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That I could have a choice.
He shakes his head. “No bad heart.”
I note he hasn’t answered my question about bad deeds. This man’s a lockbox.
But I think I have him beat.
“Not you,” he says, and as he watches me, lust laces his dark blue eyes. “You’re a sunflower.”
My cheeks heat, his words filtering through me like sunlight. “Sunflower, huh?”
“Sunflower. That’s what you are.” Turning, he pulls me onto his lap so I straddle him, his big fingers tangling in my hair. “Resilient. Beautiful. My sweet sunflower.” A ragged breath shakes out of him like he’s in disbelief. “You got me living, Ruby, and I haven’t done that in a long time.”
My heart can’t stop slamming into my chest. “Living is good.”
“It is.”
“You’re my sunflower.” His heated gaze skates over my face. “This day, and every day you’ve been on the ranch, you’ve been my sunflower.”
“Oh.” My eyes grow to saucers.
It’s too much. He’s too perfect.
Thank god, I’m leaving.
Then, looping a broad arm around my waist, Charlie hauls me against him and kisses me. My tongue runs over his, and a growl catches in his throat, his big hands framing my face. He takes my air, my senses, and I drink him in.
I’ve wondered all my life where I’ll be when my heart pumps its last beat. If I am here, in Charlie’s arms, it would be more than enough.
It would be everything.
Because this sweet cowboy of mine owns my whole heart and soul.
With a groan, Charlie pulls away from our kiss. “Lessons,” he says in a tight voice, and I slide a hand up the stone wall of his chest. “If you want to ride the rest of the summer, I’ll teach you.”
“You will?”
“I will,” he grates, one rough hand of his cupping my cheek. “But you gotta go slow and listen to me.” His Adam’s apple bobs, worry creeping into his expression. “I mean it, Ruby. You get hurt up there ...”
“I’ll go slow. I promise.” His offer means so much to me because I know it’s hard for him. “I’ll listen. I won’t get hurt. You’ll be around to protect me.”
A muscle in his jaw jumps. “I won’t let anything happen to you, Sunflower.”
The nickname, the intensity, the protectiveness in his voice sends goosebumps whispering across my skin.
I fan my fingers out across his beard. “You’re going to send me off to California a cowgirl.” I say it in a teasing way, but it sends a storm cloud rolling across his face. His grip on me tightens.
“What about you?” I ask.
“What about me?”
“You never told me your bad deed.”
“I’ll tell you later.” Piercing blue eyes scan the horizon, and he nods at the black clouds in the sky. “We should get back.”
I nod, but don’t move.
As I take in the creek’s beauty and the mountains in the distance, I realize it’s the ideal spot for a photo. The perfect place to make Runaway Ranch’s followers want this lifestyle.
