Page 22 of Saddled in Secrets (Cloverleaf Meadows #2)

B ianca’s fingers skip along the radio dials and knobs as if fascinated by the vintage style. “Why Fern?”

My thumb taps on the steering wheel to the catchy song that’s playing, but I stop as her question registers. “She’s green.”

“There’s gotta be more to it than that,” she muses.

I avoid her stare that’s burning into my profile. “It’s the same color as your eyes.”

“Really?” She sounds shocked at the revelation, or maybe it’s that I compared the shade of her irises to a plant.

In all honesty, I haven’t thought about the connection until recently. It’s just one observation in a complex, complicated collection. Bianca is everywhere I go and in everything I see. A moment doesn’t pass without her. My truck didn’t have a name until she first looked my way.

“You shouldn’t be surprised,” I murmur.

She blows out a thick exhale that I feel in my chest. “I’m not. You’re very… consistent.”

It’s a small miracle that she doesn’t mock my obsession. That doesn’t mean she won’t eventually.

I glare at the road straight ahead. “Am I scaring you yet?”

“Hardly,” she scoffs. “I might be your captive and you stalked me for years, but you’ve never given me a reason to fear you. Even when you pulled out that gun like it was second nature, I wasn’t worried about me. You were ready to eliminate the threat. We’ll circle back to that later.”

My gut tightens along with my hands on the wheel. The last thing I want to do is reveal more of my dark past to her. I stay quiet, allowing her to fill the void.

“For now, you’re taking me to town against your better judgment.

I didn’t even have to try that hard to convince you.

It’s worth the risk to find out if anyone is missing this cutie pie.

” Her fingers scratch Spud’s belly while the dog sprawls across her lap like an actual sack of potatoes.

“So, yeahhhh… you’re a softie. Totally harmless where it counts. ”

That’s laughable, but my expression remains flat. Her perception of me is purposefully skewed. She’d be singing a different tune if she had access to the skeletons in my closet. Instead, the lyrics of Run It by Jelly Roll are spilling from her lips.

I agreed to leave the property because I’m highly skilled at protecting her. What I’m capable of inflicting without remorse is deeply concerning. Or should be. If someone dares to look at her wrong, I won’t hesitate to redirect their focus to my fist in their face.

Bianca would probably laugh. Her crazy streak is both terrifying and arousing. At any moment, she can decide to shut me out or agree to be mine. The waiting game is a sharpened blade ready to slice me in half.

At least my father is temporarily incapacitated. Brody texted an hour ago to tell me that Daddy Dearest was hospitalized after collapsing in public. Word spread quickly, which will require damage control in the underground circles. That takes the crew’s interest off me.

With the immediate danger suspended, it should be safe to wander the streets and ask if anyone lost their dog. Not that I’m convinced Spud was let loose on accident. Bianca won’t relax until we confirm that theory. But then the mutt will be officially ours and her good mood will belong to me.

Maybe I’ll earn another kiss. The last one still sizzles on my skin like a brand. I imagine her choosing me and warmth spreads across my chest like the shining sun.

“What’s got you smirking, Cowboy?” Bianca’s sugary tone almost startles me.

The fact she’s calling me out is another shock entirely. But my lips are indeed hitched upward. I pinch them together, refusing to appear weak. This woman already got me to fold multiple times today.

And she’s not done. “Oh, don’t stop. You’re sexy when you smirk.”

There’s a sudden fire in my cheeks. I widen my eyes at the foreign sensation, but it’s too late.

“No way! Nope, I’m not looking.” She slaps a palm over her eyes. “You cannot be bashful. That’s not fair.”

Her dramatic reaction makes my whole face burn hotter. Dammit, what’s wrong with me? I don’t blush. My father would beat me bloody for less.

Meanwhile, Bianca peeks at me through her fingers. “Are you embarrassed?”

I quickly avert my stare, demanding the shameful betrayal to recede. My jaw is clenched hard enough to crush my molars.

“We don’t have to talk about it.” She makes the motion of zipping her lips and throwing away the key.

We sit in silence. It’s instantly uncomfortable. I’d rather blush my ass off than sit and wonder what she’s thinking about. The steady thump from the tires hitting pavement mirrors my pulse. Only five more minutes until we reach the tiny town of Morgan.

Bianca begins to softly hum along with the music. I can practically hear the wheels in her brain spinning. The tension crackles and I’m about to demand she breaks it.

“Have you let anyone else drive Fern?”

The question is so random that laughter rumbles up my throat. “No.”

“Would you let me?”

“Yes.”

She giggles. “That was easy.”

“I’m a sucker.”

“Not really. You brought me here against my will.” Her nails tap on the door as if she’s tempted to tuck and roll.

Automatic locks would come in handy right about now. “That’s for your own good.”

“What about you not letting me have my way with you?”

“That’s for our future.”

Her sigh is pleased with my answer. “Hard to argue when you’re being romantic.”

“Just say the word,” I urge.

“Do ferns have a significant meaning? Other than matching the shade of my eyes.” There’s a wide smile in her voice when she bats her lashes at me.

I grunt at her antics. “Ferns symbolize new beginnings.”

“Fitting,” she muses.

“Hell of a coincidence.”

“Yeah, I’m not sure those exist for you. Is it weird that I keep spare dog collars and food in my horse trailer?” She fiddles with the braided nylon circling Spud’s neck.

“Doesn’t hurt to be prepared.”

“Would you take me to Montana if I asked?”

I squint at her from the corner of my eye. “What’s in Montana?”

“Mountains.”

“Why not Colorado or Wyoming?”

“The elevation is too high.”

“Okay,” I mutter.

“Excellent. Do you think this”—she flicks her wrist at the windshield to indicate our current mission—“is a wasted effort?”

“Yes.”

“But you’re going along with it anyway?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“You asked me to.” Much like answering this line of questioning.

“And you care about Spud.” Bianca lifts her brows.

“By extension.”

Her attention drifts out the window. “Do you want children, Stalker?”

I swerve, crossing into the opposite lane before correcting our course. “Shit.”

“That one went too far. Noted.” She crosses an imaginary item off an equally pretend list.

But that doesn’t stop Bianca’s nonsense from spilling free. She continues peppering me with random curiosities until I park the truck in front of a dive bar on the main drag of town. One look at the sign above the entrance has her cackling like she ate a handful of edibles.

Spud leaps upright onto all fours, obviously concerned for her well-being. His slobbery kisses just make her laugh harder. When his tail starts whipping me in the face, I take it as my cue to get out.

“Hey! Wait up.” Bianca stumbles out of Fern, still giggling uncontrollably. “Don’t you dare step foot in Dirty Dicks without me.”