“Luke’s goal in life is to eliminate abuse,” Declan says mildly. “He’ll deny it all he wants, but the guy has a penchant for saving shit.”
“He acts like he’s a bad guy,” I muse as we pull onto the ranch and Declan slows the truck down even more.
“He’s self-deprecating. Possibly self-punishing,” Declan says.
“He says you’re a good one,” I can’t help from adding.
Declan smirks. “Of course I am.”
“Ha, ha.” Impulsively, I reach over and take his hand in mine.
That was a mistake.
A bolt of electricity shoots through the palm of my hand and up my arm. And it doesn’t stop there. My stomach flutters with butterflies, and below my tummy, well…let’s just say I’m suddenly ultra-aware of what’s going on between my thighs.
Declan’s fingers tighten around mine. And thank God we’re nearly at our cabin because his driving becomes erratic.
He nearly drives us off the gravel road and into the open field. He rights the wheel just in time and jerks the truck into the parking area in front of our cabin.
I hear him curse under his breath before he gently disentangles his hand from mine. He turns off the engine, but neither of us moves to get out.
Silence fills the cab as we both stare out the windshield into the darkness.
I want to kiss him. I want to climb his hard, sinful body until we’re both moaning.
But I don’t do any of the above.
Instead, I sit with my hands curled into fists at my sides, wishing like hell things were different.
Eventually, just when I think I can’t take the sexual tension filling the truck for another second, Declan pulls the keys out of the ignition.
“Let’s go see what my cousins are up to for dinner. I’ll take your bike off the truck later.”
I know what he’s doing, and I’m right there with him. “Sounds great. I’ve been eating with them every night.”
Declan looks at me sharply. “Every night?”
I nod. “They invite me. Your cousins are friendly.”
He grunts. “I’ll talk to them.”
“No, they’re fine,” I say.
“They’re cowboys,” Declan says like that explains everything. He almost sounds…jealous?
I smile to myself as we exit the truck and walk toward the main house.
“You must be starving,” I say to him. “You use up so many calories at your job.”
His hand brushes mine as we walk, and I feel the current again that’s always between us. God, I burn for this man.
“I’m okay,” he says. “I’m always half-hungry during the season. Unless I’m dead tired instead.”
“I’ll make sure to stock up on snacks for you when you’re in town,” I say. “You should leave me a list of foods that you like.”
“Thanks,” he says, sounding genuinely touched.
“Of course.”
