Page 21 of Saddled in Secrets (Cloverleaf Meadows #2)

C olton has a strange look on his face. Maybe he let one rip after the stress of assuming we were in trouble. I squint at him closely and purse my lips. That doesn’t seem quite right.

From my perspective, he very much had things handled. The way he whipped out that gun like a Wild West duel left me breathless. It’s a side of him I hadn’t seen.

My gaze roves over him now. His smirk isn’t ruthless or calculating. I’d almost say that he’s happy. Spud chooses that moment to bump my hand, as if I could forget our new addition. His unexpected—and much needed—visit provides a welcome distraction.

I’m not an expert, but he’s some sort of Shepherd mix.

Many of the dogs I’ve rescued and adopted over the years have a similar pedigree.

Unfortunately, they’re the type that are commonly surrendered or abandoned.

Our local shelter is stuffed full of these big babies and it stabs at me whenever I volunteer for a shift.

A pinch twists my stomach as I comb his scraggly fur. “Do you think someone is looking for him?”

Colton watches my efforts to brush Spud with my fingers. “Doubt it.”

“But he’s so friendly.” I rub under his chin and he slumps against me. “Where’s your home, sweet boy?”

“With us.”

My heart stutters. I glance up at Colton to find his blue eyes already hot on mine. Gone is the smirk. The look he gives me now is a smoldering fire. I drop flat onto my butt, no longer able to hold myself in the crouched position.

Gosh, he’s sexy. Almost perfect in every other way too. If Colton hadn’t forced me into this situation, our situationship would probably look very different right now. But I can’t get past the fact he stole my choice.

“Um…” I sever our intimate connection and the temperature immediately drops twenty degrees. It still takes my brain several seconds to recover. “Are you… uh, a dog person?”

He shrugs, scratching Spud behind his floppy ear. “Sure.”

The noncommittal response reminds me that he has secrets, which leads me to reconsider the gun tucked into the back of his jeans. “Have you shot someone?”

“Once or twice.”

“Did you kill them?”

His piercing gaze resembles ice when he says, “Already told you I haven’t.”

“But you would.”

“For you.” The chill thaws when his voice softens, gaining a vulnerable edge. “Does it change the way you look at me?”

It should, along with his other darker habits. I’ve told myself as much on many occasions. But instead, my mind conjures images of him using weapons for something other than destruction. I freeze, which has nothing to do with the mid-morning autumn breeze. What is happening to me?

Colton rumbles and I almost moan from the gravelly noise. “You like me bad, baby girl.”

“I didn’t say that.”

That unrecognizable glint returns to his expression. “Didn’t have to.”

“Cocky cowboy,” I mutter before refocusing on the less complicated matter in front of me. “Spud is probably hungry. There’s plenty of bacon.”

A yip comes from the pooch as if he can understand me.

Colton grunts and gestures at the door, joining in the team spirit.

The big softie even hoists me off my feet.

I teeter—almost toppling into him and his addictive scent—but manage to gather my bearings.

That doesn’t mean my knees don’t quake slightly when I lead the pack inside. Seriously, I need to get a grip.

“He also needs that bath you mentioned,” I add while striding toward the kitchen.

A downward glance finds Spud too interested in sniffing every available surface to change his mind about a reunion with domestication. He won’t even see the suds coming.

“There’s a wash stall in the barn,” Colton offers.

Which earns him a scowl over my shoulder. “He’s getting bubbles in the tub.”

The grump’s lips twitch. “Obviously.”

Sunshine streams in through the windows, painting the room in a warm glow.

It displays all the effort Colton put into making this house a home.

From the pictures on the walls to the restored antique furniture, I’m swaddled in cozy comfort.

As I approach the knotty wood dining table and purposefully mismatching chairs, decades of unique stories speak to me.

Spud is hot on my heels the instant I pick up astrip of bacon. His butt plops on the floor, tail wagging, and tongue happily lolling out to one side. I toss a piece into the air and he catches it with ease.

“Ohhhh,” I croon. “Look at you. Such a good boy.”

“Lucky mutt,” Colton grumbles.

“Someone is jealous,” I say in the same obnoxious tone reserved for babies. “As if anyone could resist this face. Do you have an owner?”

Spud whines until I give him more bacon.

“Definitely spoiled.” My smile slips into a frown. I look over at Colton parked on the top of the oversized sofa. “Should we go to the nearest town and see if anyone is missing him?”

“I thought you wanted to go riding.” He motions at my outfit.

“That can wait.”

“The wild goose chase can too.”

“A little girl might be out there searching for her dog.” There’s a pleading note in my voice, which easily slips free whenever animals in need are involved.

His tattooed arms cross. “It’s not safe to be out and about.”

The excuse wrinkles my nose. “You were gonna trailer me to a barrel race.”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

“It just is.”

I pop out my hip, letting the brat out to fight. “Quit talking back.”

A scoffed chuckle scolds me. “Real cute, Princess.”

“Do you need another spanking?” My palm slaps the other in warning.

Colton stills, a visible tremble racking his limbs.

Flames reignite his stare, burning the short distance between us.

Our undeniable attraction thrums like a pulse.

He straightens off the couch as if commanded.

Static prickles my skin and I shiver. This is uncharted territory, but that doesn’t scare me.

Instead, awareness takes the reins and makes me bolder.

“Would you like that, bad boy?”

His throat works with a thick swallow. “Don’t toy with me.”

I inhale the control he just tossed away. “You’re in big trouble.”

A pitiful whimper snatches my focus. The heat fizzles into guilt when I notice Spud’s sunken spirits. From his hanging head and hunched body, his sad eyes peek up at me. He’s acting like I punished him.

“Not you, sweet angel. I was talking to Daddy. You’re so good. The best dog.”

Spud perks up at my upbeat voice.

“Do you want more bacon?”

His nails click on the hardwood when he begins to dance.

I gladly give him another piece to make amends. “There you go. All better.”

He woofs and wanders off to scope out the rest of the joint. Meanwhile, Colton looks like a sullen gambler who didn’t win the jackpot. I strut toward him, receiving a confidence boost when his desire roams over my curvy assets.

“Do you need a treat too?”

“That’d be nice.” His timbre is gruff from indignation.

Without warning, I hop onto the balls of my feet to peck his cheek. “Thanks, Stalker.”

He whips his face sideways to align with mine, brushing our lips together in the process. “For what?”

My shoulder hitches. “I dunno. Everything you’re doing right?”

“Does that shift weight off what I’ve done wrong?”

The answer has the ability to change where we stand, which makes me smother it. “I’m gonna get the bath going.”

“Need a hand?”

“No,” I purr. “But I think you need a cold shower.”