Page 24 of Ride Me Cowboy (Coyote Creek Ranch #1)

“Anyway, I really believed him, that it was just a one off. It doesn’t excuse it; I just wanted, so badly, to think…

But a week after we got home, he came back late from work, drunk as a skunk.

I’d put his dinner away, and he was so angry at me for not having it ready for him, laid out on the table.

” She flinches, like she’s reliving that memory.

“That was a bad night,” she whispers, and I don’t ask for details, because I can’t bear to have her say anything she doesn’t want to.

And maybe, also, I don’t want to hear it. To imagine it.

“We lived in this amazing apartment, on Fifth, with this incredible view. The building is super old and grand, with this fancy white marble foyer, and a huge gold and crystal chandelier. It was one of the most beautiful things I’d ever seen.

We looked out over the park, and from my bedroom, I could see the zoo.

I’d stare down at the animals, in their cages,” she pauses, to take a deep breath, then starts again.

“I’d look down at their cages, and think, we’re just the same—them in their cages, me in my penthouse.

I was trapped, I couldn’t escape. He made sure of that.

” She trembles, and I feel like a lightning rod has spiked through me.

“So, that’s what my marriage was,” she whispers. “Three and a half years of him punishing me, hurting me, terrifying me, all because once upon a time I believed that I loved him. For being stupid enough to marry a guy I’d only known a few months.”

I nod, slowly, while my insides turn to lava.

“He took everything from me.” She wraps her arms around her torso.

“I had no money of my own, no job, no friends. I was locked in our apartment, all day, only allowed to go out if I was with his sister, mom, or him. I had no phone except one he monitored,” she sobs, and I can’t keep my distance anymore.

I step toward her, not sure I can even trust my voice to speak, but I pull her against me, at the same time she starts to sob, big, wracking, awful cries, and tears splash down her cheeks and onto my shirt.

“I was so afraid of him, of what he was capable of. That’s why I stopped what was happening, the other night.

Even now, three months after he died, I still can’t quite believe that he won’t come back and…

hurt me, for looking at you like I do. For wanting you like I do.

” She grabs my shirt in her fists and stares up at me, tears falling freely.

I want to kiss her. I want to kiss her to console her, to make her feel better, but I don’t dare.

This here is a lady who needs to be handled gently.

“He can’t hurt you anymore, City Girl,” I say, lifting my hands to her face, holding her on either side, staring deep into her eyes.

“You’re safe here. You’re safe with me, with us. ”

She sucks in a shaking breath.

“I had to get away from New York. Everyone kept expecting me to be sad, to mourn and grieve, to put my life on hold. How could I stay there, when inside, I felt like his death set me free? I tried, Cole. I tried to work out how to escape but he closed off every avenue. I was stuck; that was my life. And then, he was hit by a stupid drunk driver, and all of a sudden, my whole world changed.” She sobs again.

“Do you know I couldn’t even go to the hospital, because I was locked in our apartment?

The doorman had to get the fire department to break down our door, and even then, I protected Christopher. ”

“No one knows?”

She shakes her head. I grind my jaw, hating that, but understanding it, too. She’s spent years being afraid of this guy, doing everything she could to avoid his anger. That’s a hard habit to break.

“They all thought the sun shone out of him. I was the only one who saw what he was really like.”

“I doubt that,” I say, and then, because I can’t help myself, I lean down and press my lips to her forehead, holding the kiss there for a beat, breathing her in, hoping to reassure her in some way.

“What do you mean?”

“You weren’t the first girl he hit, Beth. I’m sure of it.”

She lifts one shoulder. “I have no idea.”

“He’d dated before you?”

“Yeah.”

“Then they know what he’s like.”

Beth’s body moves against mine with the force of her sob. “I wish someone had warned me.”

So do I. The thought of anyone laying a hand on this woman makes me want to jump out of my skin. If the guy wasn’t already dead, hell, I can’t say what I’d do to him, but it wouldn’t be pretty.

I feel her suck in a deep breath. “I just wanted you to understand,” she says, lifting her shoulders, and tilting her face to mine. “What happened the other night, it felt good, Cole. Really good. I totally wanted…” her cheeks flush, “More.”

“Me too.”

“But I’m so messed up. I don’t want to sleep with you just to get back at Christopher. I don’t want to use you to forget him. And I have no way of knowing if I want you because of you, or him. That’s not fair on you.”

I can’t fault her honesty, even when it leaves a weird ache in the pit of my belly.

“It’s okay,” I say, not wanting her to carry even a hint of guilt or regret about me. “I’m a big boy, Beth. I can handle this.”

“But Mackenzie said?—,”

“Mack thinks she’s got to pay us all back; she’s always lookin’ out for us.”

“That doesn’t make what she said less true.”

“I like you,” I say, simply. “But there’s a reason I’m twenty-nine and never had a girlfriend for more than a few months, you know.”

Her tears slow, as she regards me with undisguised curiosity.

“I’ve just never been the settling down type,” I say. Like it’s no big deal. Like the death of my mom, and my inability to save her, and the way her dying destroyed my father, and almost broke our whole family apart, isn’t bound up in that.

I can’t bear to love and lose someone else ever again, but that’s not something I’ve ever discussed before, I just know it’s how I feel, and that my reasoning’s sound.

“Plain and simple. Everyone around here knows I’m not playing for keeps. So, if you think us messing around is going to break my heart, don’t sweat it. I’ve been told I don’t so much as have a heart.”

She rolls her eyes. “You have a heart.” And she presses her palm against it. “But I’m glad you’ve got it under lock and key, Cole. Because if I hurt you, I just don’t think I could cope with that.”

And then, she tilts her head back, her eyes on mine, her lips parted in a silent, unspoken invitation. I have a split second to make a decision. Damn well kiss the woman, or hug her goodnight and send her to bed.

I know what I should do. She’s emotional. She’s just shared something deeply personal.

But that’s all the more reason not to send her off on her own.

I split the difference.

“Come with me,” I say, reaching down and lacing our fingers together. “I want to show you something.”