Page 17 of Playing Dirty (Millionaire Cowboys of Lucky Ranch #2)

Chapter Seventeen

Claiming Her

Rhett

T he mountain road stretched out before us, sun spilling through the windshield in warm, lazy rays. My hand rested on the wheel, the other draped over the back of Callie’s seat as if it belonged there, which, hell, it did.

I was still feeling the rush from this morning—the thrill of watching her face down Matt and walk away with her head held high. Felt like a knot I’d been carrying for weeks had finally loosened, and the relief sat heavy in my chest in the best way possible.

She sat, turned slightly toward the window, eyes following the passing sweep of pasture and fence line. Every now and then, I caught the smallest curve at the corner of her mouth—quick little smiles she didn’t even seem aware of.

I smirked. “You’re awfully quiet for someone who just ditched the biggest mistake of her life.”

Her head whipped around, eyes narrowing, but there was a flicker of play in them. She swatted my arm. “Don’t push it, Rhett.”

“Just saying.” I let the grin spread slowly, dragging my gaze from her face back to the road. “You could at least do a little happy dance. Or whistle. Something to mark the occasion.”

“Maybe I’m saving the happy dance for when I’m sure you’re not the bigger mistake,” she shot back, though her lips twitched like she was trying not to snicker.

I barked out a laugh, loving that spark in her voice. The air between us hummed with something hotter, sharper. Now that she wasn’t wrapped up in Matt’s lies, every glance, every accidental brush of her hand against mine felt charged.

I caught her watching me from the corner of her eye as I steered into town. “No questions,” I said. “I’m taking you somewhere you’re gonna love.”

Her brow arched. “Should I be nervous?”

“Only if you hate being spoiled rotten.”

That earned me one of those quiet little smiles she couldn’t hide, and it told me everything I needed to know.

I pushed open the glass door with a flourish, the bell overhead chiming like it was announcing something big.

Her gaze swept the racks of denim and boots. “Okay… what’s the catch?”

“No catch, sweetheart.” I tipped my hat toward the displays. “You point. I pay. Simple.”

She crossed her arms, pretending to think it over. “You do realize that’s a dangerous game to play with me, right?”

“Darlin’, I’ve been waiting my whole damn life to lose this particular game.”

Callie shook her head, but I caught the way her mouth twitched. Still, she grabbed the nearest cowboy hat from a display, plopped it on her head, and gave me a look like she was daring me to change my mind.

“Buy,” I said without hesitation. She rolled her eyes but kept going, her fingers brushing lightly over leather boots with a confident touch. Every time she paused on something, I grabbed it and handed it to the salesgirl nearby.

The “buy” pile was already tall on the counter, and we’d been in the store for less than ten minutes.

“You’re ridiculous,” she said when I placed a pair of soft, tan boots into the stack.

“Uh-huh,” I murmured, my eyes falling to her legs as she bent to try them on.

The jeans she wore clung to her like a damn love letter, and I was already imagining them crumpled on my bedroom floor. She straightened up, giving me a look that clearly said she knew exactly where my mind had wandered. “You’re staring.”

“Not denying it.”

We worked our way through the store like that—her pretending to be exasperated, me pretending I didn’t want to haul her over my shoulder and lock the world out. When she disappeared into the fitting room with a little black sundress, my restraint didn’t just crack—it shattered.

Because the second I saw that dress draped over her arm, all I could picture was how it would look sliding down her body, pooling at her feet, my hands on her bare skin.

And that was when I decided there wasn’t a chance in hell I was waiting until we got home.

I counted down all of thirty seconds before I followed. Long enough to make it look casual, short enough that she’d know damn well I was up to something.

The hallway to the fitting rooms was quiet, just a faint country song drifting from the store speakers. I spotted her boots under the door of the third stall.

I knocked once. “You decent?”

Her voice came back low and a little breathless. “Almost.”

That was all the invitation I needed. I slipped inside, clicking the lock behind me before she could protest—not that she looked inclined to.

Her eyes widened, and that dress was halfway up as she adjusted the straps. “Rhett?—”

“Yeah, I know.” I cupped her face, my mouth finding hers before she could finish whatever half-hearted warning she was about to give.

She melted into me instantly, her hands sliding under my shirt, nails dragging just enough to make me groan. I lifted her without thinking, her legs wrapping around my waist like they belonged there.

The tiny space smelled like leather and her perfume, warm and dizzying. I pressed her back against the wall, my hat tipping backward until it fell somewhere behind us.

She bit back a gasp when I pushed her dress higher, the hem bunching at her hips, revealing the smooth skin beneath. Her breath hitched as my fingers traced along her thighs, a shiver coursing through her body.

“We—We have to be quiet,” she whispered against my mouth, her voice a soft plea that only fueled the fire within me, making my blood burn hotter with desire as I pushed the crotch of her panties off to the side.

“I’ll keep you quiet,” I promised, unzipping my jeans and pressing my lips to hers.

It didn’t take long—couldn’t have, not with how much we’d both been holding back, the tension snapping like a taut string. Her fingers gripped my shoulders, nails digging in, her muffled sounds against my lips sending me right over the edge, a wave of release crashing over us both.

When it was over, we stayed pressed together, breathing hard, the heat of our mingled breaths fogging the mirror, lips touching in a tender moment of intimacy. She gave me a grin that was half-satisfied, half-scandalized, eyes sparkling with mischief and contentment.

“Think anyone heard?” she murmured, the question hanging between us.

I smirked, brushing my thumb over her kiss-swollen lips. “Don’t care if they did.”

By the time we emerged from the fitting room, Callie’s cheeks were flushed and her hair a little mussed, which did nothing to help me look innocent. I grabbed the stack of clothes she’d tried on—most of them already marked as mine in my head—and headed for the counter before she could say a word.

“Rhett,” she started, catching up to me, “you don’t have to?—”

“Remember, if you like it, we’re buying it,” I cut in, dropping the whole pile onto the counter. “No arguments.”

She put a hand on her hip, shooting me one of those looks. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re gorgeous,” I countered, nodding to the bewildered cashier. “Ring it all up.”

The kid behind the counter started scanning tags, trying not to stare at us too hard.

Every time Callie opened her mouth, I caught the protest before it got momentum.

Jeans, boots, that little black dress I was still picturing crumpled on my bedroom floor—didn’t matter what it cost, it went in the bag.

When the last tag beeped, I slid my card across the counter. Callie was watching me then, quiet, something softer in her eyes than I’d ever seen before.

Her smile—it wasn’t flashy, just small and real, and it hit me harder than any punch I’d ever taken.

The cashier cleared her throat awkwardly, sliding the bags toward me. I took them in one hand, reached for hers with the other, and laced our fingers together.

“Come on,” I murmured, giving her hand a squeeze. “Let’s get out of here before I buy the whole damn store.”

The sun was dropping low by the time we turned into my drive, the sky burning orange over the tree line. I wasn’t expecting company, but there they were—Tessa and Colt by their SUV, juggling the twins out of their car seats, Sawyer’s truck rumbling up behind them.

Hell.

“I’d forgotten to tell everyone dinner’s off,” I muttered.

Callie laughed, her hand warm on my thigh. “Guess that’s what happens when you have a big day.”

Big day was an understatement.

I pulled up beside Colt, leaning out my window. “Change of plans—Callie already knows the truth. I just helped speed up the process.”

Colt grinned, Tessa’s smile matching his. “So…we’re still eating, right?”

Instead of sending them packing, I waved them toward the house. “Get inside. We’ll make it a party.”

Within the hour, the great room smelled like Ropers’ kitchen had moved in—ribs, brisket, cornbread, the works. I’d raided my wine cellar, and Sawyer was already holding the most expensive bottle I owned up to the light like it was a damn trophy.

“You know these were meant for a special occasion, right?” I said, stepping up beside him.

Sawyer’s grin was pure mischief. “This not special enough?”

I thought about Callie across the room, down on the rug with the twins, letting them drool on her new jeans without a care in the world. Yeah, this was special enough.

“Pop it,” I said. “Today counts.”

The cork went flying, and glasses started clinking. Colt turned on some old George Strait, Tessa passed around plates, and for a while, it was just food, laughter, and that easy kind of noise that makes a house feel like home.

Callie blended seamlessly into the chaos of the evening. She chuckled at Sawyer’s corny jokes, allowing Tessa to pull her into the delightful challenge of feeding both twins mashed potatoes simultaneously.

At one point, Tessa leaned in and, with a wicked grin, told her she wasn’t getting Pickles back—the twins adored that cat, and lately, she’d taken to curling up in their crib at night like she’d appointed herself as their babysitter.

Callie laughed, shaking her head, but I could see she secretly loved the idea. Every now and then, she would catch my gaze, a spark of disbelief dancing in her eyes, as if she couldn’t quite grasp how far we had come together.

And I couldn’t either.

I leaned against the kitchen counter, wine glass in hand, watching Callie and Tessa catch up on old times, when Sawyer eased up beside me.

“You’re quiet,” I said.

“Thinking,” he answered, low enough no one else would catch it.

“About?”

His gaze cut to mine. “About the fact that guys like Matt don’t always stay down. Corner a man like that, humiliate him? He might just crawl away and lick his wounds…or he might come back swinging.”

I didn’t respond right away, because hell, I’d already thought the same thing. Sawyer had a way of saying it like he was reading it straight off a case file.

“You’re saying he’ll make trouble?” I asked.

“I’m saying it’s possible,” he said, taking a slow sip. “He’s got secrets, and he’s got motive to keep them buried. You’ve just made him desperate.”

My jaw ticked, but I kept my voice even. “If he tries, I’ll handle it.”

Sawyer smirked, like he knew exactly how much I meant that. “Figured you’d say that. Just…keep your eyes open. And hers.”

I followed his glance to where Callie was laughing with Colt over something the twins had done, and yeah—he didn’t have to tell me twice. I wasn’t letting anything touch her again.

Sawyer rejoined the group, and the conversation shifted like it always did when we were all together—fast and loud. Colt brought up the Las Vegas car show somewhere between refilling wine glasses and passing plates.

“You still in for next month?” he asked me.

I grinned. “Wouldn’t miss it. Thinking I’ll take the ’49 Ford F1.”

Tessa’s head whipped around, and Callie’s squeal joined hers in perfect harmony. “You have a ’49 Ford pickup?” Callie asked, eyes wide.

“Bought it with some others with my Powerball dough,” I said, leaning back in my chair.

Tessa clapped her hands, already plotting. “First road trip for the twins!”

“And first car show for me,” Callie added, with that sparkle back in her eyes. “You’re letting me help, right?”

“Sweetheart,” I said with a slow smile, “you can help with anything you want.”

When night began winding down and everyone was heading out, Callie had curled up against me on the couch, warm and soft and fitting like she’d been there all along.

“You know,” she whispered, her breath brushing my neck, “I think I love you. Maybe I have for longer than I want to admit.”

I went still, holding her gaze. “Good,” I murmured, a slow grin tugging at my mouth. “Means it’s official—you don’t hate me anymore.”

She rolled her eyes, but there was no heat in them. “I don’t think I ever really did. I just… tried to. Because deep down, I knew you were right about Matt.”

I chuckled low. “Darlin’, you’ve got no idea how much I like hearing you say that.”