Page 28 of Something Tangled Something True (Rosa Ranch #1)

DOWN BAD

“Darlin’!” I shout excitedly, heading into the house.

She pops her head out from behind her bedroom door, and a smile so bright it stops me in my tracks spreads across her gorgeous face. “Hi! I’m almost ready to go, I swear!” she says, slamming the door behind her.

A deep chuckle leaves my throat as I make my way to my room to change. I got an email this morning suggesting shorts be worn for the class, so I hurry to change. By the time I make it to the living room, Lola’s already in the kitchen, filling our tumblers with water.

Her eyes trail down my body and snag on my legs. “Ryder Lockhart, are those shorts ?” she asks.

“Why, yes, darlin’, they sure are.” I wink at her, her dazed expression setting my skin on fire. “Like what you see?”

“I-I’m afraid I do,” she breathes out. Whoa there, Lola. Don’t go saying things that are bound to send my heart into a tizzy. Her eyes snap to mine, and as she closes her mouth, a slow grin spreads across her glossy lips.

She grabs the bottles of water and makes her way around the kitchen counter.

The moment she does, my whole body is on high alert.

I let out a low whistle, shamelessly appraising her smooth, tan legs on full display in those tiny spandex shorts.

She’s wearing a white shirt that hangs off her shoulders, and it looks like she cut the whole bottom part off herself.

That large strip of smooth skin leaves me aching in more places than one.

I swear I feel my dick twitch to attention.

“Like what you see, Ry?”

A chuckle reverberates through my chest. “Always, darlin’. There’s never been a time in our lives when I hadn’t loved the view when I’m with you.”

Her whole body takes on a deep flush as my words settle in. She shoves one of the tumblers into my hands and keeps her eyes down as she practically sprints to my truck. Lola Lima, so confident and fearless, but the moment I compliment her, she turns into a puddle of goo. And I love it.

I lock up and follow her to the truck, opening her door for her and buckling her in before hopping in on my own side. I start the truck and make it off the ranch in record time.

“It’s just outside of town, darlin’, but feel free to put on whatever music you want,” I tell her, nodding to where my phone sits on the dash.

She picks it up, her eyes flashing to mine again. “Mind unlocking it?” she asks, trying to hand me the phone, but my hands never leave the wheel.

“The password is 0502,” I say. “And go ahead and add your fingerprint.” I want it to be abundantly clear to her this marriage may not entail all the things a regular relationship would, but I’ll treat her with the same respect.

Lola is her own person, and I have no desire to change that, but I most definitely belong to her.

I know I need to prove that if I'm going to have a shot at unlocking her heart.

I keep my eyes on the road ahead of me so I don’t see the rosy tint I’m sure is creeping up her neck as she puts the pieces together. I do, however, hear the intake of breath she takes before saying, “You corny man,” with a chuckle. “Our wedding date is your new password?”

“Sure is. I’m a smitten man, Lola. I can’t help but be a corny bastard with you.”

She laughs, and it's beautiful, a full, genuine sound that fills the tight space of my truck, as well as my ever-growing heart. “And before we got married. What was it then?”

“Your birthday,” I answer.

I can practically feel her eyes roll as she says, “Yeah, sure it was.”

I don’t say anything more. No need to scare her off , especially since it’s the truth.

She puts on some Latin hip-hop, and the way she shimmies in her seat as she sings along fills my heart like a balloon, ready to burst at any moment.

Lola’s special. She’s always been so exceptional, but in these quiet moments, just her and me, when she’s totally relaxed, god , I’ve never seen anyone more beautiful.

We pull up to the studio, parking in one of the spaces in front of the strip mall. She stops abruptly and says, “Sorry, have to tie my shoe.”

Before she can bend over, I drop to a squat, saving my knees from the hot asphalt as I tie her sneaker with little rabbit ears, double knotting it the way I know she prefers.

Her cheeks are flushed as she squeaks out a quiet, “Thank you,” and we head to the studio doors.

Something catches my eye, causing my steps to falter. There’s a white vinyl cutout of a dancer on a pole plastered to the outside of the tinted windows.

“Ry… What kind of dance class did you say this was?” she whispers beside me.

I scratch my neck, trying to recall the words of the woman I’d spoken to when I’d called. “I’m, uh— Well, I’m not really sure I asked, darlin’.”

Her wide eyes meet mine, and in a burst of laughter, she bends forward, her whole body shaking.

“Oh my god, Ry.” Her laughter is still uncontained.

“This is amazing,” she says, finally able to speak clearly.

When she straightens, her eyes meet mine, which are likely full of fear.

Her tone softens. “We can just go home. It’s okay.

You tried, and that’s more than anyone else I’ve ever dated has bothered to do. ”

“Wait–what? None of your past partners ever danced with you?”She shakes her head no, and uninhibited annoyance curdles my blood. “They were all trash, Lola. You won’t be feeling like that with me. Never again, okay? And we aren’t going anywhere,” I tell her, pulling the door open.

She gives me a small smile, and her little finger grazes the top of my hand as she passes me, heading to the counter to check in. That seemingly insignificant gesture leaves tingles trailing up my arm.

I take my hat off as we enter, and a woman who looks to be in her late thirties, with blonde hair and colorful streaks through it piled high on her head, greets us with a smile.

“Hey, y’all. You must be Lola and Ryder, the new additions to our class today!” she greets us excitedly.

“Yes, thanks for having us,” Lola says, returning the woman's grin with a megawatt smile.

“I’m Sarah. I’ll be your instructor today. You can follow me, and I’ll show you around and get you set up.”

Nerves settle in my gut as she leads us into a large room with shiny, light wooden floors and about a dozen silver stripper poles scattered throughout. Good lord. What have I gotten myself into?

She shows us to the cubbies, where we leave our shoes and other belongings. “Go ahead and pick whichever poles you’d be most comfortable at. We don’t have a full class today, so there should be plenty of room,” she tells us.

Small blessings.

“We’re also going to dabble in a little chair routine today, so you picked a perfect first day. It’ll be loads of fun,” she assures us, but I’m not so certain.

Lola takes my hand, tugging me toward one end of the class. “I’ll take this one, and you can stay behind me or beside me,” she says.

I smirk, nodding my agreement as I stand by the pole directly behind her. There’s not a chance I’m giving up an opportunity to watch my girl dance, and definitely not like this .

Several people pile into the room, each of them dressed similarly to Lola, except that most of them end up changing into extremely high heels.

The other people in the class smile enthusiastically at us, introducing themselves, and by the time we get started, the tightness in my chest has loosened, and the nausea rolling around in my stomach is mostly gone.