“Hell of a graduation party,” he said.
I closed my eyes.
“Please don’t yell.”
“I don’t yell.”
“That’s worse.”
Cal grunted.
Dylan’s chest moved behind me with another almost-laugh.
Cal stepped closer to the horse, eyes scanning me with brutal efficiency. Bandage. Burn. Bruises. Blood. Shame. He saw all of it. Men like Cal didn’t miss much. Men like Cal also didn’t waste pity where sturdier things were needed.
“You alive?” he asked.
“Unfortunately for everyone’s insurance premiums.”
Skye made a soft sound that was either a laugh or a sob.
Cal’s eyes narrowed.
Then, to my shock, one corner of his mouth twitched.
“Still smart-mouthed,” he said. “Good. Means you ain’t dead.”
Regan dismounted fast and came to my side. “She needs a bed.”
“She has one,” Skye said immediately. “Back room. Curtains drawn. Supplies ready. No phones. No one knows she’s here.”
Cal looked at Dylan. “You handle horses?”
Dylan nodded once. “Yes, sir.”
Sir.
I almost laughed.
Cal noticed.
Of course he noticed.
His eyes cut to me. “Something funny?”
“No, sir.”
Dylan’s arm tightened in warning.
I ignored it.
Cal looked between us for half a second too long.
Great.
Fantastic.
Another terrifying man with instincts.
