Page 7 of Rogue Cowboy (Montana’s Rodeo Cowboys #3)
Cole had received a lot of BS orders during his career and life, but this topped most if not all.
“They don’t know about us?” Yeah, he went with the present situation.
“There’s no us,” she hissed.
“We’re married. That’s a hell of an us.” And he wasn’t skulking away, especially when Riley was holding on to her pain like it was a damn security blankie.
“We’re not really married,” she insisted, paling. “You only married me because I wouldn’t take the Plan B, and because of where I was in my cycle.”
She sounded so sure. And Cole had been in protector mode, but after, when he’d had some time and distance, he didn’t regret his decision. Not once. Would that help to tell her? Unlikely. He felt like he was picking his way to a mine field to find a safe position to set up for a mission.
“You didn’t want to marry me.” She nodded her head, dashing away her tears and pulling her feet out of the river and crossing her legs.
“I asked. Don’t regret it.”
She looked at him like he was crazy. Yeah. Should have kept his mouth shut, but better to pull off all the Band-Aids. Heal and rebuild from there.
“I don’t even have a ring,” she said like that meant something. Maybe it did to her.
“You want a ring?” He had one. His mother’s. He’d not known if that would have creeped her out considering, so he’d never picked it up on one of his visits home.
“No,” she said, her voice leaked frustration. “Because we’re not really married.”
“That’s why I’m here. Told you. Courting.”
“Why now?” She had pulled herself together, though she still hadn’t taken a bite of her food, and his sharp gaze noticed how she was thinner now than she had been as a teen. Ranching was hard work, but he was beginning to doubt she was taking care of herself.
“You were young. In a tough spot. We made choices under pressure. I wanted to give you time to recover and figure out what you wanted from life, and I owed the government another four years that turned into five and then another six months.”
It had seemed double that.
“You stayed away from me for almost six years because of logistics?”
She sounded offended, and that gave him hope.
“I keep my word, Riley. To my family. To my government. To you.”
“I’m not not noticing that I was third on that list.”
He laughed and pushed the last bite of the bagel sandwich into his mouth, savoring the taste.
“You’re my wife. I suppose I should bump you up on the list.”
She looked adorable, as if her face couldn’t figure out what to do—go with frustration or humor.
“I told you not to use that word.”
“I made a vow.”
“Shshshsh. Button it. I told you don’t use the M word or the W word and definitely not the V word.”
Riley looked around wildly as if someone was going to jump out of the bushes and gotcha them but considering how close they were to the downtown and the fairgrounds, it was surprisingly peaceful with the sound of the water and birdsong mixing with the wind through the grasses along the creek and through the trees in the huge park surrounding the courthouse.
In the distance he heard a horse whinny and another answer.
He could only push her so far so fast.
“Vow? Married? Wife? That’s quite a list.” He kept his face expressionless, maybe just a hint of innocence, just to rile her a bit to see that flash of fire.
“I know you’re joking, trying to get a rise outta me. But I’m serious. None of those words. I mean it. Zip it.”
She even did a zipper movement across her lips that was adorable, and Cole felt everything in him ease.
They were not as far apart as he’d imagined.
And she needed him. He hadn’t expected that.
He should probably feel bad that he wanted her to need him.
Needed it. Not the most advanced, self-actualized man.
But it gave him an opening and damn he’d bust through it.
“We’re married,” he pushed his point. “Not saying the word doesn’t make it not true.”
“We’re not really the M word.” She scowled, dipped her feet in the river again, to get the dust off from the rock, and waved her feet in the air, scattering luminescent drops that sparkled in the sun. He took her socks out of her boot, unrolled them.
“The M word,” he mused. “Muscular. Munching. Marvelous.”
“You are such a comedian,” she said. “I never saw this side of you.”
Probably because, initially, she’d been off-limits—too young and his teammate’s sister. Then she was hurt, and he’d been trying to protect her, save her life and avenge her all while staying out of prison. Not that he’d tell her any of that.
“My socks.” She held her hand out.
“Mmmmmm,” he agreed. “More M words. Mandatory. Mountain. Mystify.” He caught both of her feet in one hand.
Even her feet were beautiful. Delicate. He took out another bandana from his pocket and dabbed her feet dry while she stared at him with huge eyes, and then he rolled on one sock and then the other.
“Mission accomplished.”
He held out a hand, pleased when she grabbed on, and he pulled them both to standing.
“Cole,” she said urgently. “You deserve better.” Her voice was choked. “We barely knew each other, and then I screwed it all up.”
“The assault was not your fault.” He had to work to keep his voice even when he still wanted to rip off the head of each of her so-called bandmates one at a time and kick them on down La Cienega Boulevard one after the other. They’d left her on her own at that party.
And that didn’t begin to cover what he’d done to the men who’d hurt her.
“You are an exquisite man who is too kind for his own good. You are noble. A hero, and I’m…” she gulped in a deep breath and squared her shoulders “…broken.”
He felt like she’d just cracked him in half. He didn’t want to be here. But here was where she was, and they’d have to walk out of the spiral together.
“You’re not broken, Riley. You need to fess up and…”
“Fess? There will be no fessing,” she said urgently. “And who uses the word ‘fess’ anymore?”
God, if this weren’t so damn painful, he’d laugh and then pick her up and run to his truck. But she had to make her stand here with her family, where she’d feel safer before he could take her to meet his and start their life together.
“You’re too strong to let them win.”
She shook her head, but he caught her chin, stared down into her eyes that looked like crushed pansies.
“Too strong.” He tapped her chest. “Own your power. They stole years of your life. Enough. Take back control and live the way you want.”
Hopefully with him.
“I’m here,” he stated, needing to be honest for both of them. “I’m not going away, Riley. Not again. We are a team, and we will face this and everything else together.”
She stared at him appalled, but there was something else stirring in her gaze—curiosity, and he hoped the first hint of desire.
“I feel like you’re trying to plant a flag in the rock.”
“Figuratively,” he agreed. “But since this is the rodeo weekend, and you’re here to work, and I’m doing some reconnaissance for my family’s stock-contracting business, we’ll keep our business our business for now,” he said.
“Works for me this weekend at least. Getting ambushed, cut up, grilled and served up at the famous steak dinner by your father and brothers would be an inconvenience for us both.”
“Not for me.”
He laughed. “That’s my girl.” He finally did something he’d dreamed about for years. He brushed his lips over hers. “We like our women bloodthirsty in Texas.”
He’d wanted to make her smile. Instead she took a step back.
Yeah, he had his work cut out for him. But nothing in Cole’s life had ever been easy, and anything that was, he didn’t trust and didn’t want.
What’s your favorite dinner?
Riley had to think about that for a few hours. She hadn’t had much of an appetite, but she appreciated how Cole kept reaching out. She felt too guilty to contact him. Too needy. And she dreaded the day he’d stop reaching out.
I feel like I should say meat loaf and mash potatoes. It’s my family’s favorite. But chicken and cheese enchiladas along with Spanish rice, black beans and grilled peppers is my favorite. And of course, guac. What’s yours?
Damn. That sounds delicious. That’s my favorite now too. You got a good Mexican restaurant in your town?
Rosita’s.
It’s a date.