“Being at the top of a ridgeline not enough for you?” I ask, holding back a stubborn pine branch. Lanie ducks beneath my arm with an impish smile, seeming hyperaware of my gaze following her swaying hips.
Our kiss earlier changed something between us, shattered some of the barriers that I’ve clung to in order to hold up my end of the anger that has fueled my fight. The anger that overrides what lies hidden beneath: fear. But it’s not necessary anymore.
“How can I be in such a magnificent place and not want to see it firsthand?” Lanie pivots about, the epitome of pure joy.
I can’t argue with that. Not when I felt the same way the first time I walked Coyote Falls, though it wasn’t called that then. “What you want to see is gray and walks on four legs, babe. Don’ttry kidding me.” I huff out a laugh at her wolfish attempt at sleight of hand.
“Well, that, too. But it is beautiful, Cord. Thank you for sharing this with me.” Lanie sends me a second coy look over her shoulder, flicking her hair in a long arc behind her.
A half smile plays on my lips. “Like I said, I’m on a one-day mission to make you fall in love with the place.”
“And with you?” The words tumble from her, though I suspect we already hit that little faux pas back at the homestead. Lanie spins, clapping her hands over her mouth. Bright blue eyes flare wide. She lowers her hands slowly. “I am so sorry. I didnotmean?—”
I reach forward and snag her waist before she can say another word, pulling my girl sharply into me. A tiny gasp tumbles from her lips.
“Do I want you to fall in love with me?” I graze my knuckles beneath her chin, forcing her to meet my unyielding gaze. “Damn right, I do. You’re like no one else I’ve ever met. ’Cept maybe West. You two are equal in the stubbornness department,” I admit, albeit grudgingly. “But out of the two of you, you’re the sweeter to cuddle.”
Lanie bursts out laughing. Her whole body shakes in my arms.
“I meant it as a compliment,” I mutter, tracing her bottom lip with the pad of my thumb, watching the depression it makes in her pillowy flesh.
“That has the most convoluted explanation of love I have ever heard. Only you would compare a woman to your best friend and think you can get away with it.”
I grin ruefully. “So…I got away with it then? And I guess that only you would not be offended by it. Seriously, Lanie. You’re not interested in money, or power, or influence, or bragging rights… All the reasons I hide away out here and surround myself with people I can trust. People who occasionally like me for who I am.”
Who I’m supposed to be, and keep fucking up.
Ten thousand percent of me needs her to hear what I’m notsaying—that the people I surround myself with aren’t the people whose love I need to buy.
Light fingers trace my cheek, running into my hair as she stretches onto her toes. I close my eyes and let out a groan.
“Oh, I’m only here because all that land and money provides me with daily access to wolves.” Lanie grins. “But the ranch owner is all right.”
“All right enough to love?” I swallow.So much for not pushing her.
Lanie’s eyes never leave mine. “Maybe.”
She rises higher on her toes to brush her mouth against mine. Our breath mingles in a promise that leaves me dizzy as hell with the sort of need I can’t vocalize. Not that it seems to matter—her kisses say enough for both of us.
EIGHTEEN
LANIE
Dust Flurries and Buckle Bunnies
Sleeping in Cord’s arms beneath an open sky is like nothing else I’ve ever experienced. Not even the first time he brought me out to Coyote Falls’ forest lands comes close. He’s packed more than enough food, thermals, and blankets, though the night stays perfect and clear—freezing, but clear. His kisses when I wake are sweet and tender, taking his time to explore, and the tentative walls I erected that were already so fragile crumble.
I learn more about him in those few stolen hours in the shared darkness before the sun rises on a new day than I have in the weeks prior. Before reality returns us to the homestead. I climb into the cab of his truck, the imprint of his kisses still on my lips, his body pressed to mine whenever we have a chance.
It’s like nothing has changed and we’ve picked up where we left off, but it’s a lie. Everything is new, and this strange truce is the most delicate form of love. I’m beyond terrified of what it means to fall for this man who gives his heart so freely and wagers with his life.
West leans against the barn wall when we pull in, his armsfolded over his barrel chest as he stomps dust bunnies into submission.
“Don’t you ever work?” Cord calls to him as he helps me down from the passenger side of the truck. Large, scarred hands circle my waist, keeping me steady as he lowers me the last foot where I usually jump to the ground.
“You see a whole lotta gates and fencing lying around? A couple of bulls, maybe?” West wags his head and resumes beating up dirt. “It’s all set up for you, man.”
“Thank you.” Cord stills, waiting.
