Page 26

Her head snaps up, shooting daggers at me. A lesser man might back down from that kind of concentrated fury, but I hold her gaze for a beat, slipping her a knowing smile before turning my attention back to Ryder.

Ryder looks between us like a man who’s not sure what he’s walked into, but is smart enough not to ask any questions. Good. "What brings you out to the circuit?"

"Got a buddy who rides bulls," he says. "I run a garage outside Cheyenne. Been tagging along since Ashford Ridge, taking some time off before I have to get back." He nods toward the grounds. "Good excuse to get the bike out."

"You sticking around for the whole circuit?"

"Just until Cheyenne. Then I'll need to get back to the shop." He shrugs. "Might connect back up when the circuit swings through again later in the season."

"Good to know," I say pleasantly.

Addie hasn't moved. She is a statue of barely contained homicidal rage standing under my arm, and I am choosing not to give a shit.

Ryder looks at her, studying her face for a second. Whatever he sees—or thinks he sees—is enough to make up his mind. "I should get going." He looks at Addie with a tight smile. "Good luck this weekend. It was nice running into you again."

"Thanks, Ryder." Her voice comes out perfectly even, which is impressive given everything happening in her body right now. "It was nice talking to you."

He nods at me. "Chace."

"Safe riding," I say.

He fires the motorcycle to life and eases out of the campsite. We both watch until he disappears around the corner.

The second he's gone, Addie whirls on me and shoves me hard enough that I actually stumble back a step. "What in the actual fuck was that, Chace?"

My best shot at surviving this is to play dumb. I move to the camp stove and crouch down to light the pilot. "What was what?"

"Don't." She steps around in front of me, planting herself directly in my line of sight. "Don't do that. Your arm around me? Asking me what’s for dinner? What the hell was all that, Chace?"

"Asking what's for dinner is a completely normal question, Addie." I sidestep her and reach for the cooler.

"You were trying to scare him off."

"I was saying hello." I pull out a package of burgers and place it on the table. "Being friendly. You should try it sometime — it's a nice change of pace from whatever this is." I gesture in her general direction with my hands. "Honestly, that's probably why he left. You're not always the easiest person to be around. Something to work on, Sunshine." I make sure to properly enunciate that last part.

She lets out a small string of curses. "You called me Sunshine in front of him," she says, voice climbing. "Like it's a pet name."

"I call you that in front of people all the time."

"You made him think we were together, Chace. I am a grown-ass woman. I can talk to whoever I want. You’re not my keeper, my babysitter, or my — " she waves a hand, " — whatever you were trying to be back there."

I know she’s right. I also cannot locate a single ounce of give-a-shit anywhere in my body. "That guy had one thing on his mind," I say, done playing my own game. "He's a man on a motorcycle with free time looking to get laid. I know exactly what that looks like because I've been that guy. So don't sit here and act like I didn’t do you a favor by driving him away."

"I'm twenty-three, not twelve!" She takes a step toward me, chin up, eyes blazing. "What if that's what I wanted, Chace? What if I just wanted to get fucked by a hot guy on a motorcycle? What then?"

Something snaps inside me.

I close the space between us in two steps, my chest meeting hers. She goes completely still. I lean in close enough to feel her breath against my face. "You're not a one-time fuck kind of woman," I say, low and even. "And you know that. You deserve someone who’s going to worship you. Savor you. Someone who wouldn’t want another woman after having you." I hold her gaze for one long second. "That guy isn't him."

With that, I turn and storm out of camp. I was going to make up some excuse to get away tonight, but it looks like the excuse found me instead. She can think whatever she wants about where I am tonight. I don’t give a damn.

Chapter nine

Addie

Thursday morning arrives, and Chace and I have had little more than polite conversation since our argument Tuesday. We've settled into a quiet routine. I train, or spend the afternoons wandering the grounds with my camera while he disappears to the bull pens. We eat dinner across the fire from each other with little conversation. It's quiet and civil, like the fight over Ryder never happened—or like it never ended. I'm not sure which. I just know we haven't talked about it, and I don't plan to.

I've tried very hard the last couple of days to keep his parting words out of my head.