Page 4 of Buck Me (Kingridge Ranch #5)

DANNER

And just like that, we’re standing in the moonlight, and my heart is thudding in my chest. Becca and I are trading battle cries like we’re the only two people on the planet who understand what it means to want more than what we were handed.

An hour passes in the blink of an eye. The conversation is smart and deep.

She tells me about growing up with the expectations of a narcissist. She doesn’t feel like being run out of the only life she’s ever known just to escape him, and I understand that.

She tells me that she’s never been in love and about all the guys who have tried to make her fall along the way.

Becca is different from anyone I’ve ever met.

I tell her my truth, too, even the dark parts, but she doesn’t seem afraid. I came here broken. My ex left me three months after Mom's funeral. She said I'd emotionally checked out, and maybe she was right.

I’d spent two years watching cancer eat away at the strongest woman I knew.

When it was all over, I didn't know how to feel anything but empty.

But the problems in our marriage started much earlier than that.

I had the wrong family. The wrong connections and the wrong degree.

I was never enough, no matter how much I did.

When Becca talks about her love for the arts, I drink in every detail. She’s a breath of fresh air and my first real connection since I arrived in Texas. The ranch was supposed to be a fresh start for me, but some days I wonder if I'm just running from one failure into another.

Until tonight.

Tonight, this woman who sketches gardens in the margins of her life has changed everything. She looks at me like I might actually be worth something, and I like the version of myself I see reflected in her.

Becca pulls a pin from the back of her hair. It sends a wave of auburn hair cascading down her back in soft waves. The strands catch the moonlight as it tumbles over her shoulders. One coil catches on the sequined strap of her dress.

She frowns and tugs at it gently, but it snags again. “A little help here?”

“Of course,” I say, though the words feel like a promise I’m not sure I should make.

My hand lifts before I can stop it. I brush my fingers along the exposed skin at the nape of her neck, slow and careful.

Her hair is soft and silky, but wild too.

The touch sends a jolt of awareness through me.

I notice the way her breath catches as my fingers work through the tangles.

I feel the way her body reacts to my touch and sense the slight tremor that runs through her.

As I ease the strands free, my fingertip trails down her shoulder blade. Goosebumps ripple up in my wake.

Becca leans almost imperceptibly into my hand. When I trace the line of her shoulder blade, the small sound she makes goes straight to my gut. The way she responds to me is delicate and strong at the same time. It makes me want to pull her against me until there's no space left between us.

"There.” The word catches in my throat. But my hand lingers, thumb brushing once more across her neck.

She turns to face me, and the want in her eyes mirrors my own. All of a sudden, Becca and I are close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from her body.

“Thank you,” she whispers. She turns to face me, chin tilted up, lips parted just slightly.

"Becca," I say, her name like a prayer and a warning all at once.

The moonlight reflects off her cheekbones, painting her in silver and shadow. Her eyes are wide, steady. She’s not scared of this moment.

I am.

We’re so close I can feel the heat of her skin.

My heart hammers against my ribs like it’s trying to break free of the cage.

Kissing her would be a bad idea on every level.

My brothers. Her father. Politics. The small town gossip.

The fact that I’ve never been able to hold on to a woman I love.

I failed enough for both of us. I carry baggage.

Becca may not know it, but she carries the weight of expectation. She’s young and bright and full of the kind of softness I’ve learned to live without. She’s innocent and unjaded.

And yet… I want her.

I want her in that red dress, out of that red dress, tangled in wildflowers and bent over the split rail fence. I want her name in my mouth and her hands in my hair. My hands clench into fists at my sides as I fight the urge to reach for her.

Between the way the moonlight plays across her bare shoulders and the way her dress hugs her curves, I can imagine exactly how her skin would feel under my hands. Warm. Soft. Electric. Becca leans in even closer, and I wonder if she's imagining my mouth on her throat.

The space between us crackles with want. One step forward, and I could have her pressed against the garden gate. I could find out if she tastes as sweet as she looks. But footsteps over gravel echo in the distance, and it jolts me back to reality.

Immediately, I’m reminded of why this is dangerous. I turn, instantly tense, to find Randolph Bellcourt marching toward us. He’s all puffed chest and righteous fury as he plows through the garden gate.

“Rebecca, what is this? I’ve been looking all over this farm for you.” The word farm comes out as a sneer.

“I’m fine. I just needed some air.” She shakes her head.

“Randolph.” I step forward, my jaw tight. I catch Becca’s wrist gently and rotate it, exposing faint fingerprint marks that still linger. They make my blood boil all over again. “If I see this again, you and I are going to have a problem.”

We lock eyes until the tension is broken by the sound of more footsteps pounding the earth behind us. They come heavy and fast. I turn to see my brothers file in like backup at a bar fight.

“Randolph,” Alex growls as he steps forward. “You’re on your way out, aren’t you?”

The mayor’s smile returns, oily and smug. “Yes, I’m going to take the path of my future easement. Like I said in my press release, I’ve already spoken with the city commissioner. It’s the only place that works.”

“We’ll see what the taxpayers say,” Geoffrey chimes in.

“Haven’t you heard? We already have. They are all in the preliminaries.”

My brothers fire off a few insults. They’re half-drunk and at least half-true. But none of them land. Randolph is too practiced.

“Actually, Dad, I think you should hear the latest update.” Becca’s voice silences the group, and all eyes fall on her. “The ranch has applied for a grant.”

I glance at her. This is news to me.

“Danner was just telling me about it.” Her poise and confidence are unmatched.

My brothers explode with questions all at the same time. I raise a hand to quiet them, then nod for Becca to continue.

“It’s for an interactive pollinator garden right here, where the easement is projected to pass.

It’s the only place that would work. It’ll have recycled art installations, compost systems…

It would be the largest of its kind in the state.

” She takes a breath. “If it’s approved, it becomes a protected native habitat. Illegal to dig up.”

The silence that follows is delicious. I can’t help the smirk crawling across my lips.

I clear my throat. “Since you’ve already informed the taxpayers and the commissioner that this path is the only viable option,” I say, “once the habitat is designated, you’ll need to find a new route. Off our property.”

Bellcourt’s jaw ticks. My brother’s face lights up one at a time. And for the first time tonight, I know we’ve got him.