Page 75 of Ridin' Free

“Tomorrow night?”

“I’m free,” she answered, speaking around her food. “Why?”

“We’re overdue for another date, sparky. I’m takin’ you out. Pick you up at six.”

“Okay,” she murmured.

The ease with which she agreed was almost enough to make him want to forget the rest of his omelet and feast on her instead. He liked her fire—it spoke to his wild nature—but the strong,docile woman she was underneath her bravado sparked a desire in his belly that burned with an unquenchable flame.

It was a different hunger which stopped him from reaching for her. He wasn’t lying earlier. He needed sustenance and had every intention of finishing his plate. Moreover, he didn’t have the luxury of excess time.

“Much as I’d like to kick up my feet and stay a while, probably should drop by the store today. Catch up on a few things.”

“Yeah. Of course.”

She shrugged nonchalantly then shifted her gaze back down onto her plate. He couldn’t explain why, but there was something about that body language he didn’t like.

“Hey,” he called, demanding her attention.

She met his eyes but didn’t make a sound.

“We’ll christen your kitchen before I go.”

That earned him a smile he liked a whole hell of a lot, and he returned it with one of his own.

They finished their meal in silence, too busy chewing to converse.

An hour later, when he mounted his hog, he left with the smell of her on his skin, the taste of her in his mouth, and the memory of her on his mind.

Yeah. She was his.

And damn it all to hell…

He was hers, too.

I wokelate Sundaymorning alone in my bed. Benson was the first thought to cross my mind. The faint smell of him lingered in my sheets, conjuring memories from the day before. I still ached in the best way between my thighs. A twenty-four-hour reprieve was probably not a bad thing, but I missed him anyway.

When he left early Saturday afternoon, he did so with the promise that he would see me Sunday night. It made sense how, after three weeks on the road, he had plenty to catch up on at home and at work. At the end of my bar shift, I wasn’t surprisedto find he wasn’t waiting for me—his large frame leaning against the driver’s side door of my Bronco.

Though, while not surprised, it would have been a lie to say I wasn’t disappointed.

Now, the scent of him made me want to stay in bed a little while longer.

It was as I laid there, allowing my mind to flood with memories of him, when I decided I wasn’t simply going to indulge in our fantasy, I was going to give it my all.

I’d surrendered to the monster within.

If Benson was going to be the man of my dreams, I was going to be the woman of his.

This meant I needed to go shopping.

The act of purchasing the right garments wasn’t a problem. I had the money and an afternoon full of time to kill. The trouble was, I hadn’t gone shopping for anything particularly date worthy in ages. The dress I wore to Wrangler and Lexi’s wedding was a relic and rogue survivor from another life. Sean hated it, which was why I kept it—but I didn’t want to wear something old; something that reminded me of a weaker, broken version of myself. Ben never made me feel that way, which meant I needed something new.

I didn’t even have to think hard about who to ask for the best place in town to shop. Tess was more of a jeans and kick-ass heels kind of gal, but I’d seen her walk into the bar in a killer dress a time or two.

I rolled toward my nightstand, grabbed my phone, and started a text thread with Mustang’s ol’ lady.

Hey. Need a dress I can wear on the back of a hog. Need it for tonight. Where should I go?