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I couldn’t see him.
I had to leave.Now.
The driver was looking down towards the barn, but I refused.
“All set,” I declared with a fake smile, in the hopes she would take the hint.
She looked at me and nodded. We both turned away from the barn, away from the house. The driver got into the car, and I pulled open the back door. I had one leg in when it happened.
When my world spun.
“Valerie!”
My stomach fluttered almost as fast as my heart.
I turned to see my dark cowboy heading up the hill to me, on his horse, his body moving with his steed. From his dirty boots, blue jeans, black shirt, flannel, to that damn cowboy hat—he was a vision. I knew in that moment that Denver Langston would haunt me for the rest of my days.
I would never forget him.
I would never forget the fury in those gray eyes as he approached, dismounted the horse and charged towards me. His smoke blew out all around me, caging me in, holding me captive and I couldn’t breathe.
“Denv—”
“Shut the fuck up,” he growled, his hand going to the back of my neck.
Then he did it.
Heruinedme.
His lips crashed against mine, his huge body, shoving me against the cab, pinning me to it as he pried my lips open with his tongue. His hot, delicious, tongue. My mouth fell open, letting him in, and I was kissing him back with the same urgency. I couldn’t control it. A sound ripped from him, causing my insides to quiver. It was rough, uncontrolled, dark…
Then it was over.
He pulled away, his hand still on the back of my neck. “You leave me, so help me God, baby, I will hunt you down,” he clipped. “I will find you and take my anger out on that perfect, round ass of yours. You won’t be able to walk for a fucking month.”
I stared up at him, his taste still on my tongue.
“Denver—”
He leaned down, getting a centimeter from my face, the brim of his hat over me. “Shut. The. Fuck. Up.”
His hand went down and gripped the back of my elbow, and then he pulled me away from the car. The young driver was out, staring at us with her mouth hanging open.
He pulled me to the back of the car and ordered, “Pop the trunk.”
She did, without question.
Traitor.
Still holding on to me, he pulled my bags out and shut the trunk. “Thank you for your time. Ms. Cross isn’t leaving today,” he said to the woman, his voice like velvet. His face was set in stone, his eyes holding hers. I looked back and forth between them.
“S-sure thing,” she stammered. Then. She. Left.
Yeah, she was a traitor.
I was too busy staring at her car to notice his horse until the animal decided to put his face in front of mine. He neighed and nudged my shoulder. I turned to the beast and smiled. I was about to say hi and give him a little nose rub when my cowboy interrupted.
“Hang on, Ranger,” Denver said, taking a hold of his reigns.
