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My pulse races and I shift anxiously, tempted to pull away but thinking better of it. Ridge isn’t going to let me go, and truth be told, I’m right where I want to be. His hand on me, warm breath skating over my face, eyes devouring me.
Why do I have to want him so? Things would be a heck of a lot easier if this man didn’t turn me into a puddle like an ice cube in a heat wave whenever he’s near.
“Ridge—” I start, but Kelly pops her head in between us.
“Is everything okay?” Her tiny body is practically on the bar, and her eyes narrow on Ridge.
I stifle a laugh, not sure if it’s to break the electric connection with Ridge or because my girl can’t do pissed off no matter how hard she tries. Well, except at Travis.
“Kel, we’re fine.” I drag my gaze to my best friend while gently trying to tug my arm from Ridge’s hold.
He isn’t budging.
Slowly, she slides her feet back onto the ground, eyeing us skeptically. “Are you sure?”
“We’re just talking.” He flashes her his pearly whites. “I’m taking Lace home.” There’s no room for negotiation in his tone, and I want to scream. But I don’t.
With his eyes on me, he asks my friend, “Are you okay to get home or do you need a ride?”
I want to call him out. He knows she has her own car because I just told him so, but his concern seems genuine. I have no doubt if she wanted a ride, he’d do it no problem and even arrange for her car to get to her place.
“I’m fine, thanks.” Kel’s gaze drifts from Ridge to me. “Lacy?”
Without any words, her look says everything. She wants to make sure I’m all right, and I convey as much, adding in a nod for good measure. “Okay. Good night.”
Ridge loosens his grip on my wrist but doesn’t let go. “Kelly, do you need me to walk you to your car?”
Fuck him for being chivalrous. Usually, I hate that kind of shit, but for some reason my girly bits are fluttering and warming because he cares about my best friend.
“No, I’m good. Gentry will walk me. Night.” She waves at us and saunters to the exit.
I yank on my arm and grit my teeth. “Let go of me.”
Ridge swings back to face me. “I called off the engagement.”
My heart stutters. “What?”
He releases me and slides back onto the stool. “You heard me. I’m not marrying Chastity. And like I said, you and I have plenty to talk about.”
My insides somersault and I’m unable to look at him as I wipe down the bar for the final time. It doesn’t need it.
“Why’d you go and do that? Your mama’s going to tan your hide.” His news has sparked something inside of me.
Electricity sizzles and liquefies my insides. I twirl the cloth into a long, tight funnel and slash it against the wood of the bar. The lightning snap, so like a whip, crackles through the air.
He chuckles at my implication of how his mother will react, but there’s a rigidity to his posture that doesn’t lessen with the shake of his body. And the tiny lines around his eyes and mouth multiply and deepen as if there’s truth to my words.
“Yeah, well, I spoke with her too. Told her in no uncertain terms you were not to be messed with.”
“And she listened?”
“I didn’t give her much of a choice.” The harsh edge of his voice makes me shiver. “She understands my position and won’t bother you again.”
Despite his conviction, doubt swirls through me. What’s the likelihood of Sage Kincaide doing what anyone tells her?
Still, he’s trying, and don’t I owe it to him—to our child—to at least give him a chance?
“Thank you.” I offer a curt nod, hoping like hell he’s right and his mother will leave me alone. Even as a needy, foolish part of me hopes he won’t.
