Page 9

I have to get her out of this truck before I do something stupid.

At least, that’s the plan.

But the second I pull up outside her apartment building, my self-control shatters.

She reaches for the door handle, fingers curling around it, and I move.

It’s completely involuntarily.

But it happens all the same.

Before she can even blink, I’m cupping her soft jaw, guiding her toward me with a touch that feels too desperate, too reverent to be casual.

“What—”

“I think there’s been a misunderstanding,” I growl, voice rough and tight and shaking with everything I’ve been trying not to feel.

Then I kiss her.

Hard.

My mouth crashes into hers like I’ve been waiting my whole damn life to do it— because maybe I have.

She gasps.

It’s sweet.

She’s startled.

I catch it, swallowing her breath like it’s oxygen and I’m drowning.

And fuck, she tastes divine.

Like wildflowers and want .

All heat and innocence and something just a little dangerous underneath.

It’s not a gentle kiss. It can’t be.

Not with how she’s been living in my bloodstream for weeks.

Not with the way my Bull is stomping at my inside, trying to bust through my ribs, demanding more.

What’s more? It’s a miracle.

See, Arliss doesn’t push me away.

She doesn’t slap me across the face in outrage.

She moans, soft and breathy, and then her lips part, inviting me in.

Her tongue slides against mine and God help me, I nearly lose it.

I could come just from this.

Just from her mouth.

Her taste.

The way she responds to me.

I could honestly bust a nut inside my jeans just from her.

The windows fog, the air inside the truck thick with heat and want and her, but I pull back.

I have to.

Because if I don’t, I’ll take her right here in the cab of my truck, and she deserves better than that.

She deserves better than me.

So I force myself to slow down, to gather the broken pieces of my restraint.

I kiss her eyelids, her cheeks, her flushed skin still warm from the fire between us, and I breathe her in like I’m memorizing the moment.

“I mean it, Mo Chroí .”

She’s still catching her breath, her eyes hazy with lust when they flick up to mine.

“Everything I say to you, I mean.”

She doesn’t answer.

But she doesn’t have to.

Because it’s my kiss that put that look on her face.

And something about that?

It wrecks me.

“Wait for me,” I murmur and slide out of the truck, circling around to her side like I’ve done this a hundred times.

I open her door, help her down with hands that linger just a little too long on her hips.

She’s soft and warm, and I want to pull her in, bury my face in her neck and tell her all the shit I shouldn’t feel.

But I hold back.

Barely.

Because this thing between us, it’s more than anything I have ever felt. Way more than lust. Stronger than animal instinct.

It’s her.

And she means more. She means everything.

So I walk her to the door, take her keys from her trembling hand and unlock it, pressing the cool metal back into her palm.

Then, without thinking— because thinking would stop me, and let’s face it, I am low on oxygen to my brain right now —I touch her cheek.

So fucking soft.

“Will you let me take you out tomorrow?”

She hesitates. “I have work?—”

“What time?”

“Three to eleven. I get Tuesday off.”

“Perfect. After work, then. Will you come out with me?”

She bites her lip, and before my brain can intervene, my thumb’s there, brushing the mark she made.

And yeah, I kiss it, too.

“Y-yes,” she breathes.

And I smile like a goddamn fool.

“Yes? All right then. Good. See you tomorrow.”

“Okay. Um, wait! Should we exchange numbers?”

Shit. I could slap myself.

“Yeah, gimme your phone.”

She hands it over, and my fingers shake just a little as I punch in my contact information and shoot off a quick text so I can save hers later.

It comes up on my phone and I save the contact info exactly as I typed it. Because even if she doesn’t know it, Arliss is my heart.

Unknown

Save this number for Mo Chroí.

“What are you doing? You changing my contact name?” I ask when I see her grinning as she types.

“If you can give me a nickname, I can give you one,” she states boldly.

“Yeah? What is it?”

I already know because I saw it before she could swipe off the screen. She saved my info as Cowboy Romeo .

I am not sure how I feel about that. I mean, it’s cute. But I’m not playing Casanova with this woman.

She’s different.

Special.

“Okay, so, I can’t stay out too late. My grandpa will worry,” she says, and I can smell her nervousness, sweet and honest and pure.

“That’s okay. However long or short, I’m just happy to spend time with you.”

She blinks, wary. “Yeah?”

I nod.

“Yeah. Now you go on inside, Arliss. Get some sleep.”

“Okay,” she whispers.

“See ya soon.”

“See ya soon,” she echoes, then turns back and offers me a cute little wave. “‘Night.”

Christ, I love the way her cheeks turn pink and warm, like she’s not used to being wanted this way.

Like no one’s ever seen her like I do.

“Lock the door, Mo Chroí .”

“I will.”

Good girl.

I don’t leave until I hear the click of the lock behind her.

And when I finally make it back to my truck, I’m so high on that one word, on her yes , I could do cartwheels down the goddamn street.

I don’t. But it’s a near thing.

Instead, I wait till I get back to my cabin. I barely have the truck in park before I’m out the door, leaping from the driver’s side like the ground itself might kiss me for the mood I’m in.

I kick off my boots, strip out of the day’s bullshit like it’s an itchy coat, and let the shift come over me.

My Bull surges forward.

And yeah— he fucking struts.

Chest out, horns gleaming, hooves stomping like he owns the goddamn ranch.

Because tonight?

We’re unstoppable.

We kissed her.

She said yes.

We have a date.

And my beast is drunk on victory and pheromones.

Of course, because fate’s got a twisted sense of humor, who happens to be strolling by in full fur-mode?

Dante.

Big ol’ Grizzly Shifter and king of judgy eye rolls.

And waddling beside him, all wide-eyed and giggly, is his cub. The adorable Rosie Posie.

She is getting used to her Bear side, and I know she’s been shifting in the middle of the night unprompted. Poor little thing. But she’ll get there. I know she will.

But really? Did it have to be right now?

Just in time for my impromptu bovine break dance.

They both freeze as I prance— yes, prance —across the pasture like I’m the matador and the bull rolled into one glorious mess.

Rosie lets out this adorable little Bear-snort-giggle thing, and I swear it sounds like twinkling bells and childhood wonder wrapped in fur.

I like the cub, so I do what any self-respecting, freshly smooched, high on hormones Bull Shifter would do.

I bow.

Low and dramatic, horns scraping the ground with flair, like I’m knighting her for services to cuteness.

Dante groans. It’s a sound that comes out as a low, guttural roar, which translates roughly to, “I don’t have the patience for your shit tonight, Kian.”

He nudges Rosie away, muttering something under his breath in Bear-ese that probably includes my name and several colorful expletives.

I wait until they’re gone before I shift back with a grunt, standing stark naked in the cool night breeze, jabbing a finger in my ear like it’ll erase the echo of Dante’s growl.

I know I’ll get questions about this tomorrow. Probably a full-blown roast session over breakfast.

Zeke will definitely say something snarky. Jed will laugh so hard he chokes on his goat milk. Max’ll give me that “not surprised but deeply disappointed” dad-look.

And I don’t care.

Because in just a few hours, I have a date.

With Arliss.

Arliss, who kissed me back.

Arliss, who said yes with stars in her eyes and pink in her cheeks.

Arliss, who doesn’t even know yet that she’s already wrecked me.

For that?

They can tease me all they want.

Hell, they can parade me around the pasture in nothing but cowboy boots and glitter paint.

I’d still be smiling.

She said yes.