But there was something in his eyes that made me pause. Something that almost looked genuine.
“Fine,” I said. “I’ll teach you. But don’t expect me to like it.”
“I don’t expect you to like anything about me,” he replied. “Just to do your part.”
I urged Buck forward, not wanting to continue this conversation. Not wanting to see whatever humanity might be lurking under Dante’s carefully constructed facade. It was easier to hate him when he was just a monster.
We spent the next hour riding the fence line, me pointing out problems and Dante taking mental notes. He asked good questions, practical ones that showed he was actually paying attention. It was unsettling, seeing him so focused on something so mundane. So normal.
The sun was higher now, warming my back through my jacket. My stomach growled, reminding me I hadn’t eaten since yesterday’s lunch. I’d been too nervous about the wedding to force anything down.
“We should head back,” I said. “Check on the rest of the herd, then I need to?—”
“Eat breakfast?” Dante finished. “I heard your stomach. We’ll go back, grab food, then continue.”
I hated that he’d noticed. Hated that he was being... considerate. It would be so much easier if he was just a complete bastard all the time.
We turned the horses back toward the barn, the ride feeling shorter somehow. Maybe because I was getting used to his presence beside me. Or maybe because my body was too exhausted to maintain the constant state of tension.
When we reached the barn, I dismounted and started untacking Buck. My hands moved through the familiar motions—unbuckle, lift, brush. Dante worked beside me, caring for Rosie with the same efficiency he’d shown earlier.
“You actuallydoknow your way around horses,” I said, the words coming out before I could stop them.
“Surprised?”
“Yeah.” I hung Buck’s bridle on its hook. “Figured you’d be all talk.”
“I’m a lot of things, Nick, but I’m not a liar.” He closed Rosie’s stall door, turning to face me. “When I say I want to make this work, I mean it. When I say I won’t force myself on you, I mean that too.”
My jaw clenched. “And when you said I’d be in your bed? Did you mean that?”
“Yes.” No hesitation. “But there’s a difference between sharing a bed and forcing myself on someone. I told you—I’m not a monster.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
He stepped closer, and I backed up instinctively until my shoulders hit the barn wall. He didn’t touch me, just stood there, close enough that I could smell the lingering scent of his expensive soap.
“I know what you saw this morning scared you,” he said quietly. “But I think you felt something that scared you even more.”
“I didn’t feel anything.”
“Liar.” His lips curved into that knowing smile. “Your face turned red. Your breathing changed. And unless I’m very wrong, which I’m not, youlikedit.”
Shame burned through me, hot and terrible. “Fuck you.”
“Maybe eventually.” He reached up, and I flinched, but he just brushed a piece of hay off my shoulder. “But not until you ask me to.” He paused for only a second, those dark eyes boring into me. “And you will. They always do.”
Chapter 7
Dante
Days slipped by as I settled into my new life on the Wesley Ranch. Hell Creek was quiet, quaint, and honestly, kinda boring. It was the opposite of Newark in every way. And it didn’t take me long to realize that I stood out like a sore thumb. If I wanted the locals to trust me enough to do business with me, I needed them to accept me as one of their own.
And that meant a new wardrobe.
Unfortunately, Hell Creek didn’t have much in the way of shopping. But I wasn’t going to let that stop me. If I shopped local, I could make friends, schmooze, and get on the good side of the town. How hard could it be?
I parked the SUV on Main Street, taking in the three-block stretch that apparently constituted downtown Hell Creek. A diner with faded paint, a bar without a name, the courthouse where I’d gotten married three days ago, a run-down hardware store, a lawyer’s office, and a feed store with a weathered sign that read “Morrison’s Feed & Supply.”
