By going with her and teaming up for her clinics, he’d be constantly showing her she was fabulous instead of only speaking the words. He’d called himself flexible. He hadn’t been, but he was now.
Toweling off, he called out to her. “Tell you what. You have a clinic next weekend, right?” He walked into the bedroom.
She was gone.
Cussing a blue streak, he pulled on his briefs and jeans, then his boots, no time for the socks.
She’d left the door open. Again. He hot-footed it outside, leaving the door ajar. He’d be back soon. With her.
He spotted her more than halfway to her trailer, running like hell. Shouting her name, he took off.
She didn’t stop, didn’t even slow down. If anything, she ran harder, head down, arms pumping.
He called out again, but she kept going. Damn, the woman was fast. Must’ve run track. He put on the afterburners, but she’d had a good head start.
Could he make it before she got to the trailer? He’d have blisters after this but who cared? Dammit, he was still a good five yards away when she reached the steps.
She didn’t take time to look back. She just pounded up those steps, yanked open the door and jumped inside.
“Jordan!” As he reached for the door handle, a click told him she’d just locked it.
He banged on it, anyway. “Don’t do this! It wasn’t the sex talking!”
No answer.
“I love you! We belong together, querida!”
Still nothing.
“Look, I know you think I lost my mind just because we had good sex, but I didn’t lose my mind, it cleared my mind. Open up! Please!”
“Hey there, bro.”
He turned around. Sucked in air. “Hey, Monty.” Had his brother seen the whole mad dash? Did he care? “What’re you up to?”
“I just changed Fudge’s bandage. I take it there’s a wee problem, as Kieran would say?”
He took another shaky breath. “It’s mostly my fault.”
“Mostly?”
He grimaced. Reviewed his behavior. “All my fault. During the discussion at the Raccoon, Mila threw an idea at me I wasn’t ready for, and I bobbled the ball.”
Monty nudged back his hat. “But you must’ve recovered. I distinctly heard something about good sex in that rant of yours. So did Fudge, by the way. He sent me out here to get the 411.”
“Sorry.” He’d startled Jordan’s injured horse with his shouting. Way to compound his mistakes. “How’s he doing?”
“Better’n you.”
“No kidding.” He muttered a curse. “That’s what I get for rushing.”
“You proposed?”
“No, but…” He waved a hand. “Never mind the details. I knew she was skittish about Mila’s plan. I knew it. But I could also see it was perfect. Like an idiot, I charged ahead.”
“And she thinks sex is what changed your mind?”
“Yep. And she bolted.”
