“Hell,” I muttered as I jumped in after her. The cold slammed into me like a freight train, knocking the breath from my lungs. I surfaced fast, my eyes burning while my heart pounded. The shock never got easier, no matter how many times I did it.
I spotted her as her head went back under. Grabbing her arm, I hauled her close. “I’ve got you.”
Her fingers dug into my shoulder. Then she found her footing and shoved off me. “I don’t need?—”
“Yeah,” I said, my teeth chattering. “You do.”
We slogged out of the water dripping and freezing while spectators cheered and laughed. Someone shoved towels at us. I took one and wrapped it around her shoulders without thinking.
She stiffened. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t act like you want to take care of me when you’ve been picking fights with me for days.”
“You want to talk about this here?” I asked, my voice low.
“You started it.”
I stepped closer before I could stop myself, my hands still gripping the towel at her shoulders. She didn’t move away. Didn’t break eye contact. The space between us shrank to nothing.
“You embarrassed me,” she said.
The hurt in her voice cut deeper than the cold. “I did what?”
“You challenged me in public. You made me sound reckless. Like I was a liability.”
“That wasn’t my intent.”
“But that’s what happened.”
The words landed heavy. I’d done to her exactly what the town had always done to me.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “It won’t happen again.”
“Good.”
The raw vulnerability in her eyes made something crack open in my chest. I didn’t look away. Didn’t step back. I let myself feel it: the pull, the heat, the want.
“You don’t know what you’re asking for,” I whispered, trying like hell to resist her.
She shook her head. Icy droplets fell from her hair. “I know exactly what I’m asking for.”
I swallowed hard. She couldn’t mean it. “The two of us is a bad idea.”
“Why?” She tilted her head back and stared up at me. Her eyes were as blue and bright as the Montana sky in springtime. “Because you aren’t interested?”
“No.” My voice came out hoarse and low. “Because I am.”
Her breath caught and she lifted onto her toes. I leaned closer without thinking. Our mouths hovered inches apart. My thumb brushed the edge of the towel at her collarbone, my body already choosing for me. For one reckless second, the world narrowed to her.
Then the crowd roared behind us. Reality crashed back in.
I dropped my hand and stepped away.
“That’s what I thought,” she whispered, hurt flashing across her face before she turned and walked away.
I stood there for several minutes after she left, the lake dark and still behind me. I did want her, and that was the problem. Wanting her meant risking everything. If this blew up, it wouldn’t just sting. It would take down the rodeo, prove my family had always been right about me, and destroy the fragile peace that was barely holding this town together. Wanting Morgan Carter wasn’t a weakness. But choosing her would be.
