Page 13 of Saddled in Secrets (Cloverleaf Meadows #2)

Me: You sure about this?

Brody: Do what you gotta do.

Me: She’s gonna be pissed.

Brody: Since when has that stopped you?

T he sinking sensation in my gut dips lower while I read over our recent text exchange. Bianca might actually end my life after I pull this stunt, but it’s necessary. My father didn’t bother to wait a week before sending someone else to hassle her.

That bad choice forces me to take more extreme measures.

I lift my gaze from the phone screen. Bianca is leaning against one of the many trucks her family owns.

The tight jeans she’s wearing are meant to test my control, especially when her left hip is cocked in defiance.

Pieces of her brown hair lightly flutter in the breeze like a contradiction.

My confession at Camp Cloverleaf teases the distance between us, daring me to cross the line with more than flimsy words.

Her eyes narrow into fiery slits as I continue to stare.

“Let me guess,” she mutters. “My brother put his foot down.”

I nod. It isn’t a question that needs verbal confirmation.

Her pert nose crinkles. “Why can’t Paisley come instead? We’ve hauled our horses all across the Midwest and didn’t need a chaperone.”

My flat stare provides a thorough explanation. “You’re stuck with me, Princess.”

She tucks her arms tight across her chest. “Fantastic.”

“And I’ll drive.”

“Fine by me.”

That surprises me and it must show on my face. She huffs, looking anywhere but at me. Several of her dogs provide an adequate distraction. A full minute passes as she pets them and avoids me.

“I’ll own that I’m a passenger princess at heart,” she grumbles eventually.

“Nobody would assume otherwise.”

Bianca reaches for the pickup’s door handle, but pauses when I grab her bag and head toward the barn. “Where are you going?”

“We’re taking mine.” The fully restored 1979 F-350 gleams under the morning sun like a beacon.

Her eyes bulge at the glorious sight. “You’re going to pull my trailer with your relic? I figured you were just testing the wiring.”

“Horses are already loaded.” Which could be considered a warning sign, but she’s too caught up on my choice of vehicle.

“Doesn’t that go against a collector code or something?”

My boots crunch over gravel, which mimics the sound of me stomping on her argument. “A truck is meant to haul. That doesn’t change with age. Reliable, remember?”

Bianca’s lips part, the memory washing over her shocked expression. “Wait, this is the same truck?”

And that goes to show how little we’ve interacted over the years. It’s been mostly me sticking to the shadows to keep an eye on her. If not for that pesky habit, we’d be strangers.

“Doesn’t look as rough, huh?”

Her gaze wanders over the green custom paint with new appreciation. “Uh-huh, sure doesn’t. That makes this even worse. I’m not responsible for any damages. It’s your risk to take.”

“Don’t sell Fern short. She’ll take us wherever we wanna go and won’t put up a fuss.”

Bianca slams to a stop beside me. “Fern?”

A sweeping motion acknowledges the vintage beauty in front of us in case there’s any confusion. “You’re about to get officially acquainted.”

She blinks at me slowly, as if this news is difficult to process. “You named your truck?”

“Of course.”

A smile crawls across her lips until she’s full-on beaming. “That’s almost cute, Cowboy. Who knew you had it in ya?”

“Cute?”

“Do you prefer adorable?”

That doesn’t deserve a response. Instead, I dump her bag in the living quarters portion of the horse trailer.

Mine is already in there, along with everything else we’ll need.

Bianca is quiet and doesn’t question me again.

She’s too busy gawking at Fern’s custom cowhide upholstery from the open passenger door.

Two dogs flank her, whining for permission to hop in.

“There isn’t room for them,” I say while rounding the hood.

“I noticed.” She remains still, staring at the solo bench that stretches across the cab.

“They sure as shit don’t make ‘em like they used to, huh?”

“It’s beautiful.” Her breathy voice is like a light switch, turning me on with a quick flick.

“She,” I croak.

“Oh, right.” There’s a hint of pink coloring her cheeks when she glances at me. “I love what you’ve done with her.”

“We’ve been through a lot together.”

“Gettin’ sentimental on me too? Jeez, I better be careful or you’ll grow on me.”

My gaze feasts on hers, blue searching green for a truth she probably won’t admit. “Would that be so terrible?”

Not that she has much of a choice. The hitch in her breath sounds like surrender. “We should go.”

I couldn’t agree more. It’s about damn time Bianca’s fine ass breaks in the spot next to mine. My gaze moves from her to the truck. “What’re you waiting for, Princess?”

Her legs shift awkwardly. “Where’s the foot thingie?”

“There aren’t any.”

“How do you expect me to get in? We aren’t all built like Viking giants.” Her eyes rove over our drastic difference in height. “I’ll pop my hip out of the socket trying.”

A chuckle threatens to rattle me. The visual of her scrambling to climb in is entertaining. Add in the fact that she’s too proud to ask for a lift and I damn near double over. But I’d never put her in a situation to get hurt.

In a fluid motion, I scoop Bianca off her feet. She’s buckled in right where she belongs before a complaint can escape her mouth. A smirk tugs at my own while I return to my side and get behind the wheel.

A crank of the key in the ignition has Fern rumbling to life. That purr is such a sexy sound, only overshadowed by any noise the woman next to me makes.

“Hear that?” I glance at her while shifting into drive.

“She doesn’t sound angry anymore.”

“You remember.” Fuck, that does something to me. I focus on the minimal effort it takes my truck to pull ahead with her loaded trailer attached. “And you were worried. Never doubt classic American muscle.”

“Do trucks fall under that category?” She taps her chin, lips puckered to one side.

If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was teasing me. “Google it.”

“Maybe I will since I actually have the option.” She whips the device from her pocket like it’s a weapon to use against me.

Which is true in a sense. The reminder that Brody gave me an order to confiscate her phone in Germany—allowing her to believe it was stolen—is a dark cloud above me. I might never escape the gloom. Bianca notices the clench in my jaw.

“Awwww,” she croons. “Did I ruin the moment?”

I tighten my hand on the steering wheel. Such a brat. But it’ll be me destroying what little peace there is between us.

The pickup rolls to a stop at the main gate. “Ready to leave?”

“Almost,” she chirps.

And then the rodeo princess proceeds to build her bubble of chaos. A hands-free phone mount gets stuck to the dash. There’s already a cooking show playing on the screen. Subtitles scroll along at a rate I couldn’t follow if I used my full concentration.

With that step complete, Bianca taps at her iPad and slides AirPods into her ears.

There’s undoubtedly a romance audiobook picked and prepped to turn her on.

Last, but certainly not least, is the yarn bag.

Whatever crochet project she’s currently working on is now bundled on her lap.

It’s probably another set of horse earmuffs. Winter is coming after all.

Bianca’s fingers begin moving at lightning speed while I try to process this madness.

I’ve observed her multitasking methods on countless occasions over the years and it still fascinates me.

My brain just doesn’t work like that. It’s only when she motions for me to get a move on that I realize we’re still idling in the driveway.

Go fucking figure—she caught me staring again.

I shake off the stupor and ease on the gas. Fern glides forward, rumbling her enthusiasm. At least this journey will be smooth for one of us. The road ahead is paved, but it’s about to get rocky.

That kicks my pulse into a trot, mimicking the thump from the tires eating miles. It’s too damn quiet. My thoughts are spinning in a whirlwind faster than the overstimulating mayhem beside me. I turn on the radio to fill the void.

“A Lot More Free” by Max McNown streams from the speakers. It’s one of Bianca’s favorite songs. I almost tap her on the shoulder, but then notice her head is bobbing to the beat. She’s mouthing the words too. This woman’s attention span doesn’t have a limit.

Which is why she doesn’t miss what happens next. Her narrowed gaze scans the landscape. She turns in her seat to get the full picture and then rips the pods from her ears.

“You missed the exit, Cowboy.”

“Did I?”

“Yes,” she confirms while gesturing at the window. “Zumbrota is that way.”

I force my eyes to remain fixed ahead. “We aren’t going to Zumbrota.”

In my peripheral, Bianca goes very still. “Where are you taking me?”

“To a different barrel race.”

“Where, Colton?”

“Somewhere safe.”

“Why?” Her voice is too calm, ready to raise hell or an alarm depending on my answer.

“My father proved he can’t listen. He won’t stop harassing you until I surrender or end what’s left of his miserable life. Rather than do him a favor, I decided to remove you from his reach.”

Her breathing grows shallow. “Would you actually do that?”

“Do what?”

She huffs. “Don’t act innocent now. Have you hurt people?”

“Yes.”

Her posture stiffens. “Did you kill any of them?”

“Haven’t been pushed that far, but I’d do it for you.”

“That’s concerning.” But the raspy edge in her voice suggests she’s more worried about her reaction.

I wonder what was swirling through her mind when I said my father deserved worse than death for involving her in his criminal business. “Does it scare you?”

“Probably should,” she mumbles.

“But?”

“You’ve never given me a reason to fear you. The worst you’ve done is act as a massive obstacle to block my freedom.” She makes me sound like a construction cone.

“I’d hate for you to see what I’m actually capable of.”

Bianca is studying me, trying to peel away my protective layers. “Who are you?”

“Those secrets aren’t free.”

“Are you gonna blackmail me?” She huffs. “Brody probably gave you tips.”

“No,” I grunt in response. “I’d prefer if my past stayed buried.”

“But you’ll tell me if…” She trails off, expecting me to fill in the blank.

The truth is, Bianca doesn’t realize what she’s asking. The answers will cost her a lot more than a polite conversation. Probably more than she’s willing to give. Not that I’d ever push her. What happens between us romantically will always be her choice.

“I’m willing to negotiate,” I say.

“What do you want?”

“For now, I’d like you to go along for the ride and not kick up a fuss.”

That triggers her memory of our situation. Fire burns in her glare, searing my averted gaze. “Stop the truck.”

“Not gonna happen.”

“Pull over, Colton.”

I shake my head. “Just try to relax. You’ll like where we’d headed. Get back in your bubble of chaos until we arrive.”

Bianca whacks me across the chest with her iPad. “Listen to me! You can’t do this.”

“Knock it off, Princess.” My voice is the crack of a whip against her bundle of fury. “I’m driving. Think about your horses in the back.”

Her exhale sounds like a pissed off dragon. “You can’t abduct me against my will.”

“I can and your brother approved it.”

“He’s not the boss of me.”

“That makes one of us.” But this was my idea, not his.

“You don’t have to do everything he says just because he’s paying your bills.”

“This isn’t just a job for me,” I bellow. Regret tries to snatch the words back, but it’s too late. “I’d protect you regardless.”

“As a favor to Brody.”

“No, for me. The thought of you getting hurt…” I let that statement hang in the balance for a moment, strangling the steering wheel like it’s a threat against her. “Fuck, never mind. It’s unacceptable.”

“Um, okay? That’s borderline possessive.”

My nod agrees wholeheartedly. “I need to keep you safe.”

“Well, I don’t need a repeat of Germany. Please take me home.”

“Can’t do that.”

“Please,” she repeats.

My resolve almost wavers at the whine in her tone. But then I imagine her begging me for something else. “This trip is gonna be different.”

“How so?”

“I won’t steal your phone.”

Her gaze flings to her beloved device that I snatched at Brody’s request. She didn’t know the thief was me until I returned it. One more mistake I won’t live down.

As if on cue, she mutters, “I’m still mad about that.”

“Have I apologized lately?”

“No, and don’t bother. It won’t solve anything.” Her hollow tone carves into my chest.

The urge to cradle her hand in mine drops my right arm onto the space between us. “Well, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I felt really shitty taking it, but your brother gave me an order. He didn’t want anyone to interfere with his plans.”

“Yeah, yeah. Your loyalty to him is most important.”

“That’s not true.”

“Then what is?”

I chew on the answer I want to reveal, but she’s not ready yet. “Your safety.”

“Saw that coming from a mile away in the wrong direction.” She tucks her arms across her chest and glares straight ahead. “Your white knight hero complex doesn’t fix what you continue to break, Cowboy.”

“Just trust me, okay? It’ll get better once this shit with my father is handled.”

“I won’t hold my breath.”

“Complain to whoever you want.” I jerk my chin at her phone that’s still mounted on the dash.

“How generous.” Her scoff is thick with sarcasm. “Won’t do me any good.”

“How about if I try to give you some space?” Just spitting that out is a challenge.

Bianca eyes me suspiciously. “Starting when?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see.”