Page 88 of For Cowgirls and Kings

She needs me, and fuck it all, I’ll be herefor her no matter what it takes. That’s what I vowed to myself when I found her, what I vowed to myself when she demanded we don’t develop feelings for each other, and again now.

Dale deserves that much.She deserves so much more.

Instead of giving her space to feel even more insecure, and trusting that she asked me to help by giving me the soap to wash her off, I pick it up once more, resuming the task of lathering her perfect skin in suds.

“Turn around, baby, I missed a spot.”

Her shoulders deflate, a small sad smile tilting her lips, before she does as I ask, lifting her hair over her shoulder. I wash her over and over, until her skin is pink and she finally relaxes into my touch.

“Thank you for saving me,” she whispers.

Little does she know, she’s the one saving me. Every second of every day.

THIRTY-THREE

ADALENE

March 1st, 2025

“Hey,can you come with me for a minute?”

I lift my head at the sound of Mateo’s voice filling the doorway. I eye him wearily, feeling both excited and nervous by his presence. The last week he’s been busy with meetings and things around the ranch, and we haven’t gotten to talk a lot.

Much less pick up where we left off, the tension growing more palpable by the day. Does he regret it all?

I set my book down, Tut chirping as it bumps against him. “What’s up?”

His eyes soften, and he just nods over his shoulder in afollow memotion. Without waiting for me, he strides from the room and I scramble behind him, curiosity greater than reservation. We get to the front door, and he pulls an oversized denim jacket from the closet, extending it in my direction. I grab it, pulling the fabric around me, with it the overwhelming spicy smell ofhim.

“Put on your riding boots.” He pushes them at me, and I slide into them.

“Where are we going?” I ask, caught off guard but not entirely unhappy by his demands.

“What good is being a millionaire rancher with top of the line horses, if we aren’t going to ride them?”

I pause, my eyebrows pushed together as I look at him. “You mean, you ride your own horses?”

He rolls his eyes, plunking a worn cowboy hat over my hair. It’s big—the brim falling over my eyes, and the strong smell of sweat floods my nostrils. But I’m secretly preening at the idea that I’m wearinghis hat.

I flick my eyes up at him, and cock my hip, “I’ve never seen you wear a cowboy hat.”

“I don’t unless I’m actually working, doesn’t fit my mafia image.” He winks, and I have to roll my eyes to keep them from shooting hearts at him like daggers.

It’s disgusting how desperately I want him. Especially when I can’t tell what he wants from me.

We walk into the barn, and two horses, already saddled, stand waiting for us, making me smirk. “You ride them, but you don’t saddle them?”

“Do you ever get tired of being a smartass?”

I pause, quirking my lips, and then shrug. “No.”

“Get on,” he grumbles, but I don’t miss the laugh he’s trying and failing to hide.

“Yes, your highness.” I walk up to the smaller of the two horses, a bay with a white swirl beneath his black forelock. His eyes are wide but soft, and I have to fight back the sudden need to cry. I’ve been so wrapped up in just surviving, I forgot what it felt like to be happy, at peace—anything besides angry or broken.

I miss Chuck, my students, and my friends.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Mateo asks as he climbs into the saddle of his own horse—an enormous grey gelding who’s hooves are bigger than anything I’ve ever seen.