Page 4 of Saddled in Secrets (Cloverleaf Meadows #2)

“It’s fine. My scoliosis doesn’t mind dancing.” I roll my lips between my teeth, fighting a smile over the fact that he seems to care about my condition.

“It wouldn’t hurt to get some extra sleep,” he presses.

“Or we could have sex.”

His jaw grinds. “No.”

“Bummer,” I sigh and cast my sights across the crowd. “Guess I’ll have to find someone else to do the deed.”

His blue eyes light on fire. “Go ahead and try. He won’t be walking out of here with his dick attached.”

“How attractive,” I mutter.

Colton towers over me until he’s all I see. “Fuck around and find out, baby girl. You have no idea what I’ll do to protect you.”

“Another glorious day.” Bianca hums as we browse the first aisle of the outdoor market.

I inhale, trying to catch a whiff of her perfume. “Mhmm.”

“Are we lucky or what? The weather is crisp but not too chilly.” Her attention is quick to spot a tiny horse figurine that’s for sale at the next booth. “Gosh, I love this town.”

“And their handmade crafts,” I mumble.

Trips to these local events fit into our regular routine. She’s in her element and radiating happiness. The glow in her expression matches the sparkle in her eye. It’s incredibly endearing, spreading warmth through my blackened heart.

“I do love my crafts.” A grin lights up her features even more while she spins in a slow circle. “Look at all this stuff. We’ll never get bored.”

Yearning spreads through me while my focus devours her joy. I discreetly pay the vendor for the small horse statue and tuck it into my pocket. “This is where we’ll stay until you decide otherwise.”

“I can’t imagine anywhere better. It’s cozy and peaceful and exactly where I imagine my mom visiting.”

“You chose well,” I praise while sliding into stride next to her.

Bianca tips her head to the sunny sky. A dark braid hangs over her shoulder. My fingers itch to discover if her hair is as silky as it looks. I clench my hand into a fist and fight the urge as usual. Her smile widens while she soaks in the moment.

“Essen feels like the place I’ve been missing,” Bianca sighs to break apart the silence. “I was meant to be here.”

“Your mom would agree,” I murmur.

“She put the idea in my head for a reason. There’s such rich history.” Her arm flings toward a block of nearby buildings that are older than Minnesota. “Just look at that, Cowboy. The architecture is freaking impressive.”

“Sure is,” I agree. “Not to mention the endless festivals and parties.”

“This is the best.” She grants me another wide smile. The carefree expressions are frequently aimed at me lately, but I’m always eager for more.

I get caught staring and lower my gaze. “It’s strange that you’ve never been to Europe until now.”

“Why’s that?”

“You’re rich beyond reason. If you snapped your manicured fingers, a private plane would appear and jet us off to another location.”

She wrinkles her nose. “Don’t make me sound so… spoiled.”

“Well,” I chuckle. “That’s the truth. It’s refreshing that you don’t take it for granted.”

I’m expecting a rebuttal, but Bianca is quiet. My gaze slides over to find her eyes already on me. A blush colors her cheeks and she averts her stare.

“You have a nice smile,” she murmurs. “It’s an underrated trait for men. Really sells me.”

I hadn’t even realized I was smiling. The expression was almost nonexistent until she started dragging them out of me. My lips quirk higher under her admiration.

Bianca sighs. “Too bad my brother hired you to follow me around.”

“Why’s that?”

She hops on the balls of her feet to get closer to my ear. “You’re growing on me.”

Desire floods my bloodstream like a drug, but I force myself to appear unaffected.

We’ve fallen into a cooperative pattern of sorts that I refuse to ruin.

She’s finally accepted my company without a fuss.

I appreciate walking beside her rather than behind.

The lines are still drawn between us, but they’re getting weaker.

An opportunity to blur them isn’t hard to come by.

Like now, our hands almost touch with every step.

How easy it would be to clasp her palm in mine.

Would she allow it? We still haven’t discussed how I stood and listened to her fuck a dildo.

Maybe she doesn’t know I was there. Or it might be a mistake she’d prefer to forget.

I can settle for her friendship. That’s more than I deserve.

My phone buzzes with an incoming text. I pause next to an artist’s booth and dig it out of my pocket. Bianca purses her lips, already assuming it’s from her brother. She’s not wrong.

Brody: Need you to do something for me.

Me: Name it.

What he sends next puts a blade in my grip.

Brody: Take Bianca’s phone. Block her from social media. Make sure she can’t communicate with Paisley. I need this wedding to go through without a hitch.

My gut plummets. It will sever the delicate understanding I’ve achieved with his sister. There isn’t a choice when it comes to Brody’s demands. The loss is already spreading through my chest, leaving me cold. Just like the unfeeling pawn I was raised to be.

We might’ve had something. How foolish. Why did I let myself believe she could see me as anything but her brother’s enforcer? When I dare to look at her, there’s a frown twisting her beauty.

“What is it?”

“Nothing for you to worry about, Princess.”

Not until I follow through.

Another week, or maybe even two, has dragged by.

It’s difficult to tell when time blends together in a monotonous blob.

Colton reverted to a stone pillar after Brody bossed him around about something.

The wall between us is taller than ever and I’m too stubborn to climb it.

Not after he’s refused to budge on almost everything I request.

Instead, I’m back to entertaining myself. The hook pulls the yarn through the loop to finish my last stitch of this row. I exhale and hold up my work in progress. It’s about halfway there, if my makeshift pattern is anything to go by.

My eyes flick to the screen just as the Quickfire Challenge is starting on this episode of Top Chef .

The contestants race around the kitchen to gather supplies.

Captions scroll to tell me that they’re responsible for creating innovative versions of cheese curds.

I can almost smell the fried goodness from here.

Meanwhile, a masculine voice whispers sexy somethings directly into my ear and I shiver. The romance I’m listening to on my Kindle is cranking up the heat. At least someone is getting fucked properly. My ass slouches deeper into the velvety cushions as I resume crocheting.

Movement on my right catches my focus but I don’t turn. It’s just Colton doing whatever the hell he wants. Several choice words curl on my tongue, ready to fling at him. But he doesn’t deserve my insults.

“Possessive jerk. Never has any fun. Spiteful prick. Wouldn’t know how to treat a lady if chivalry hit his stupid sexy face,” I mutter at his reflection in the bay window.

A smile lifts my lips and spirits. What can I say? It’s difficult to keep my mouth shut, especially when it comes to that man and his controlling tactics.

The brooding slab of destruction paces into the living room.

Colton stops in front of the television and turns to where I’m parked on the sofa.

His hulking form is completely blocking my view.

Rather than stoop to his level, I turn up the volume on my spicy audiobook and focus on yarning over like a pro.

He steps closer, giving me a whiff of his spicy cologne. I breathe through my mouth to avoid inhaling him. His cowboy boots enter my lowered field of vision. The brute is baiting me on purpose. Why he insists on doing so is beyond my comprehension of this sideways situation.

I glare at him, but remain silent. This is our new normal. We almost turned a corner after strolling through outdoor markets for days on end, but then my brother texted him. Maybe Brody thought we were getting too close, which seems odd. Not that I can ask him.

My phone is missing, which prompted Brother Dearest to cancel my credit cards and lock me out of all my accounts. Colton is being a real dick about letting me talk to anyone. The potential for a truce between us went up in smoke after that.

These days, after recent developments, we’re back to barely tolerating each other. It bothers him that I don’t sass him at every opportunity. I doubt he’ll ever admit it. His mouth presses into a pissed-off line while mine curves upward. I silently celebrate these small reactions.

Unfortunately for me, this man isn’t a quitter. His sinfully full lips are moving but I can’t hear him. I find myself wondering if I’ll see him smile again. But then I reprimand myself. Why do I want to see him do anything but take me home?

He’s still blabbing on about something. I tap my headphones and shrug. At inhumane speed, he snatches the Bose off my ears.

“Hey!”

Colton crosses his arms, dangling my escape from reality like a carrot. “I asked you a question.”

My eyes narrow into slits. “And I chose not to answer.”

Fury burns in his blue gaze and he inhales a deep breath. “What are you making?”

“Why do you care?”

“Bianca,” he growls.

“Ear muffs.” I roll my eyes at this sorry excuse for a conversation.

A furrow dents the space between his brows. “They’re not round.”

“Thanks, Captain Obvious.” Frustration huffs from me as I examine the triangular shape. “These are for Luna. I’m making a pair for Bandit next.”

“Your horses?”

“Their ears get cold in the winter.”

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” he grumbles.

“Shouldn’t have asked.” I stab the hook through a loop for the next stitch.

Colton doesn’t move from ruining my view. It’s clear he isn’t done being a pain in my ass, but I don’t have to entertain him. Animosity rolls off him in furious waves. The crash against his shallow tolerance makes me edgy. If he doesn’t leave, I’m likely to crawl out of my skin.

“Do you have something else to say, Cowboy?” I force a sweet smile. “Or can I return to pretending you’re not here?”

“How can you do”—he waves from my crochet heap to the television before lifting my headphones—“all of this at once?”

“That’s not for you to worry about. It’s my bubble of chaos and you’re intruding.”

“Don’t you want to go somewhere?” He motions to the splendor of Essen, Germany that waits just beyond the glass.

But I’ve lost interest with him breathing down my neck. “I want to call Paisley.”

“What’s her number?”

My upper lip curls at his smug tone. Such a fucker. I can’t remember my best friend’s digits and he’s rubbing it in my face.

“Ask Brody.” This isn’t the first time I’ve suggested the easy solution.

“He’s busy.” And that’s the typical response I receive in return.

“Can I check my socials?”

“Those accounts are compromised.”

Irritation grates on my last nerve. That’s been his robotic reply whenever I’ve asked.

I examine his features for any hint of deception.

It seems strange that my entire digital footprint would be impacted after my phone was stolen.

Not that I can confirm or deny the claim. Even the Wi-Fi on my Kindle is limited.

“How do you know?”

“Brody told me to keep you offline.”

“And you do whatever he says.”

His nostrils flare. “Yes.”

“Loyal lapdog,” I sigh.

“Just doing my job.”

“Yeah, yeah.” A flick of my wrist dismisses his excuse. “When can we go home? I’m ready for this technology lockdown to be over.”

“Soon.”

“That’s what you always say.”

Colton’s shuttered gaze drifts to the front door. “And eventually, the answer will change.”

My fingers strangle the ball of yarn to resist throttling him. “I thought if I snapped my fingers, a plane would appear in the sky?”

“As it turns out,” he drawls. “Even you have limitations.”

“Go figure. I’m a hostage on my own vacation,” I mumble absently. “Trapped in a gilded cage with my bodyguard. How romantic.”

This trip lost its purpose before it truly began. My stomach sinks while I mourn the wasted opportunity. Mom would be very disappointed.

“Don’t fret, Princess. You’ll be breaking hearts and wreaking havoc on your home turf by the end of the month.” The tattooed grump’s expression sours into a tight pucker. He probably ate a lemon to perfect the look.

I toss my unfinished ear muffs beside me. “That’s still two weeks away.”

“Could be faster.” Another evasive response.

The urge to snap at him gnashes my teeth. I hate how much power he holds. It’s only gotten worse since I lost my phone. Maybe I should try masturbating my brains out again. At least I was blissed out then.

But Colton might hear me if I do. The reminder heats my cheeks. That won’t fly, especially when we’re barely on speaking terms.

Whatever. I stare at him while he glowers in return.

A sigh buzzes my lips. Such an attractive grouch.

My gaze swoops lower, appreciating the full package.

His shirts are unnecessarily tight. It’s like he can’t find any that properly contain his oversized ego.

Or he’s purposely putting himself on display.

If that’s for my benefit, it’s another missed opportunity. There’s no sex in our future.

Colton’s mouth opens but then his phone chimes. He digs it out of his pocket and glances at the screen. Tension solidifies his muscles into a statue.

“Duty calls,” I grumble at his reaction.

“We’ll finish this discussion later.”

“I’d rather not.” My fingers beckon for him to return my precious headphones. “Just leave me alone, m’kay?”

Colton’s flinch is slight, but I notice. Guilt threatens to retract my statement. Pride raises her head and flips him off.

Just a bit longer. Once we’re back in Cloverleaf Meadows, we’ll go our separate ways and I’ll put this disaster behind me.