Page 5 of Rogue Cowboy (Montana’s Rodeo Cowboys #3)

“C ourting? Courting?” Riley finally spit out the word that had been pinging around her brain like she was a live-action pinball machine. “Why would you say something so ridiculous like that?”

She stomped into her trailer, irritated that not only was Cole following, but he also had the audacity to nudge her aside as soon as she unlocked the door. He entered first and scanned.

“It was a red flag to a bull—a really stubborn, quick-trigger bull.” She’d had a heck of a time convincing Rohan and her father that yes, she and Cole needed to talk—privately.

She had no doubt her brother was timing her and definitely watching the trailer.

Heck, knowing Rohan he was stealthily approaching, intending to eavesdrop.

She’d spent nearly six years trying to keep off everyone’s radar and now she feared she’d have a starring role in the Copper Mountain Rodeo gossip circle.

“Bulls are partially color blind,” Cole said, like this was a normal conversation and that he hadn’t just arrived unexpectedly after over five years and dropped a bomb on her family.

And me.

He went to her fridge, opened the freezer and pulled out a long, chilled gel pack. He poked around in her cupboards, found the first-aid kit and other supplies and wrapped the gel in a strip of flannel.

“Besides, it’s true.”

Her snort sounded like Cinnamon’s—not surprising as she hung out with horses far more than she did people, except family.

And now she had a spotlight on her. This was all Cole’s fault for showing up out of the blue and looking so…so…dang…everything. He was so masculinely beautiful it hurt to look at him. And she was now a bruised and hurting mess—hurting and not looking her best. Again.

“You’ve worried my family by unexpectedly arriving. And got me punched.”

He gently placed the gel against her cheek.

She couldn’t help sighing in relief. She had to fight the urge to reach for him to hold on to his wrist, when she should be pushing him away for both of their sakes.

“Sorry,” she said, shamed. “It wasn’t your fault. I stepped into Rohan’s fist, which shouldn’t have been swinging at a friend in the first place. What happened between you two?” she demanded because it was easier than talking about the…had he really said ‘courting’?

Cole didn’t answer. Just held the gel against her cheek and glanced at his big watch that was disturbingly sexy. She couldn’t think of him like that. She wasn’t ready to face him or her past and definitely not a future.

Coward.

She hated the word but had to own it now, even though everyone thought of her as fearless when she’d been growing up, chasing dreams. And now all she did was hide. And pretend. And Cole was going to realize he’d tied himself to a coward, a liar.

So she had to cut him loose. Fast.

“It’s not true, Cole.” She made herself meet his shuttered gaze. She placed her hand over his to push the gel free. She had to stand up to him now to save them both. “You can’t court someone you’re already married to.”

Not what she meant to say.

“Don’t think marriage is the end of courting.”

She stared at him. What was he doing, auditioning for romance hero of the year?

“Be real. We’re not even really married.

” She forced herself to say the M word she hadn’t let herself think about much after he’d suggested it as a way to protect her.

Not when she’d whispered the empty vows in a Vegas court office.

And definitely she’d avoided it during every text the minute he’d dropped her off at her family ranch and headed out to parts unknown to do things that were more important to him than she would ever be.

“It’s legal,” Cole said not even pretending to be bothered. “But I’d say courting is more important to building a marriage, than getting to the altar.”

“There was no altar,” she insisted, almost expecting God to strike her down as a bubble of panic burbled in her belly.

“We can go the altar route. Do it right before your friends and family.” His offer sent more panic roaring through her. “There’s the fear again, Riley.” With a fingertip he stroked along her neck, smoothing over her pulse. “Tell me.”

Tell him what?

He’d said that before—many times when she dozed off and broke the quiet of the drive, screaming and disoriented from a nightmare.

“Tell me,” he’d urge, as he put more and more miles behind them. “Get it out.”

As if it were that easy. As if he could absorb it. Absolve her.

“What are you afraid of?” he asked now, his head cocked, clearly expecting an answer.

Everything would be too humiliating to admit.

“You,” she whispered. He terrified her to death because he made her want things she could never have.

If she hoped that would push him away—he had always been unfailingly gentle and chaste with her—epic fail. Cole didn’t miss a beat.

“Explain.”

“Cole, I can’t… I can’t do this…whatever this is…with you.”

“There’s no can’t, Riley. We’re married. I’m not leaving.”

“What?” She tossed the gel on the small counter that comprised her kitchen and balled her fists on her hips. “What does that mean?” She faced him, unable to comprehend he intended to stay.

Cole Jameson hadn’t stayed anywhere longer than a couple of nights his entire adult life.

“No way are you staying in Marietta,” she scoffed, and then more horror bloomed.

Cole’s family ranched in Texas. His family ranch was legacy and legendary—yeah she’d looked it up on one of her bad days where she’d wallowed and tried to understand what she’d tied herself to—temporarily.

Cole was even further out of reach than she’d thought—not that she intended to reach or hold on to him.

He fluidly reached around her, snagged the gel and lightly pressed it against her cheek. “A few more minutes,” he said. “Go easy on me. I’m having trouble seeing you bruised and hurting without wanting to punch a hole in something.”

She stared at him, uncomprehending. “You’re as calm and unflappable as Copper Mountain.”

She was the one with the drama and always flying off the handle. That made her think of the musical Wicked and inwardly she started humming “Defying Gravity.”

“ Wicked , right?”

“Oh, I was humming out loud?” Her family was used to it.

She’d hummed in her crib—in tune to hear her mother tell the story—and throughout her life she’d unconsciously sung or hummed no matter what she was doing—showing, planting flowers and veggies, cooking, doing stable chores, playing games after Sunday family supper.

But lately not so much.

“One of your many charms.” His hint of a smile had her breath fracturing in her throat.

No. No. No. He could not be sweet.

“Ha. You’ve seen me at my worst. Zero charm. And I’ve probably seen you at your best.”

“I like that you think that.” He turned that powerful blue-black with specks of fire all-seeing gaze on her. He straightened his shoulders as if about to carry a large burden. “I came here so that we could start our journey together. Each give our best.”

While Riley tried to wrap her head around the weirdness of that, his watch beeped, and he removed the gel pack and put it back in the freezer like he had every right to take care of her.

“I thought you came here for me to sign something so we could officially divorce.”

What a weird word in my mouth.

She’d never imagined she’d have to say the D word, and she felt a little sick. It might have been her imagination, but Cole seemed stiller, though the air crackled with energy, just briefly.

“What gave you that idea?”

Her mouth dropped open. “What wouldn’t?” Had he had a head injury in a place she couldn’t pronounce?

“You’re you,” she blurted, trying to corral her thoughts that galloped untamed through her head.

“Gorgeous. Rich. Decorated soldier. Successful. Texas. Deploying all over the world. I’ve only been to five states. ”

“I’m not rich.”

“One point in your favor.”

“Just one.” His voice was low, resonant, and did something crazy to her tummy that flipped in time with her heart. She was as susceptible as she’d been at nineteen.

“You said gorgeous.”

Riley tried to remember how to breathe. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Too late.”

“Be serious.” She barely knew this playful version of him. She’d seen a hint now and then their weekend together, but after… Her brain shied away. His texts had been serious. Probing. Making her think and feel too much. Ache with loneliness.

“You live in Texas.” Why was that her first objection?

“While Texans think they are their own country, it’s a state, and not so far from your family.”

Leave her family? He’d lost his mind. Texas was as south as Montana was north. She took a step back and came up against the kitchenette counter. Trapped.

“And you travel all over the world with no warning and have a very dangerous job.”

“You worried for me.”

If he’d had a touch of smug, she probably would have slugged him after the morning she’d had, but instead he sounded unbearably tender.

“Of course I worried. Duh. Every time my brother deployed, I was terrified, but he pretended he was just having a big adventure. Rohan was a hero. You’re a hero, and I’m a disaster.”

“You’re not a disaster, Riley. You’re strong. Smart. Beautiful inside and out. Kind.”

“Cole.” She didn’t know what to do with his sweet. “I can’t be what you want,” she confessed—more truth than she’d spoken in years. “I can’t.”

“Do you know what I want?”

A million word fragments shattered in her brain, but she shook her head because really, why was he here other than to have her sign something legal to forever cut the last frayed, skinny thread?

He smiled. “It’s not your job to try to be what you think I want, Riley.”

She frowned. She hadn’t thought about it like that—not exactly.