Page 88 of The Wildest Ride

Laughing, she said, “You wish.”

He grinned. “Sure do.”

She sucked in a breath, but he saw the tension in her body relax as her exhale morphed into a laugh. If she wouldn’t take the ride, he’d just have to keep her laughing as much as he could until they were done with the challenge.

“Gran always says you can wish in one hand and spit in the other and see which one fills up first.”

“That a dare?”

Her eyebrows shot up. “What? No! How’d you get to that?”

Rather than answer, he commented, “Your gran’s version is a lot cleaner than my grandpa’s.”

She ran it through a couple times in her head before it hit her—he could virtually see the wheels turning, as well as the ah-ha.

A chuckle escaped her lips and she tried to disguise it by looking back at the cattle, but it didn’t work, and never would, because he somehow knew that she’d never be able to hide herself from him.

She had snagged his attention, sharpened it, intensified it in a way unlike any he could recall experiencing—more like the way he felt about rodeo than women.

“So that’s a no on the ride?” he verified.

He was being ridiculous. He knew it, and would stop the second it started to make her uncomfortable. For now, though, whether she realized it or not, it made her forget how much they still had left to do.

“Are you always like this with women?” she asked, playing the part of the exasperated woman perfectly.

He paused, initially for dramatic effect, but in that brief space, he realized he couldn’t remember this kind of ease with any other woman.

When he answered, his face was thoughtful, his answer devoid of facade or charm. “No.”

Lil rolled her eyes. “Now you’re going to tell me it’s because I’m so special.”

He shook his head and said, “Nope,” even though it was true. She was. Perpetual grin returning, he said, “It’s because the women came after me.”

Tone effortfully casual, she said, “You’re ridiculous, but not lying. The way they go after you is over-the-top.”

She emphasizedover-the-topas if she were worried he was going to miss the fact that she was calling him that, but he didn’t care. He was more interested in the thread of jealousy woven through her words. That she’d noticed—and been bothered by—the buckle bunnies that forever followed him made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

“If I really wanted to get over-the-top, I’d pull the evergreen buckle bunny move of bribing security so I could sneak into your room, take off all my clothes, slip into your sheets, and wait for you to find me. How’s that sound?”

“Stalker-ish.”

AJ laughed, “I thought so, too. Didn’t sleep with that one.”

“I should hope not. If you did, anything that happened after would be your own damn fault.”

“Agreed. Any more sage advice, oh experienced one?”

She turned as bright red as the tomatoes she shunned. Recovering herself, she rolled her eyes and said, “How about you getting back into position so we can finish this thing.”

“I like it when you talk dirty to me, Liliana,” he said before checking on the cows over his shoulder, and adding, “Seems like we’re finishing just fine with me where I am, so I’ll kindly pass on your offer.”

“Impossible.”

“To stay mad at me, you mean?”

“Something like that,” she muttered.

“So what do you do when you’re not breaking the rodeo?” he asked casually.