At the same time, I understand his concerns about leaving the ranch. No place is safe right now. He won’t let me stay here alone, and he doesn’t want me in public where threats can’t be controlled.
Conor doesn’t take her eyes off him. “Those opposed say No.”
“No.” He towers over her. “My vote is the only one that counts, because she’s my responsibility.” He stabs a finger in my direction. “My decision.”
“Possessive much?” She arches an auburn brow, and a knowing smirk steals across her lips.
Yeah, he’s possessive. But he’s also been training me for the day he lets me go. I was never meant to stay here.
My purpose is to kill John Holsten.
“I didn’t vote.” I shove back my shoulders and meet his heated gaze. “Aye.”
Green flames ignite in his eyes beneath the brim of his hat. His anger is so effervescent it thrashes and spits sparks in a deadly dance of intimidation.
Fury hardens every inch of him, from his square jaw and aquiline nose to the thick muscles stretching the denim on his thighs.
He stands several feet away, yet his strength and authority press against me from all sides. Chills invade my arms, and I rub my hands over the prickles.
“Get in the house.” His command is a roar with teeth, meant to make me blanch.
I can’t stop my body’s reactions to him. He terrifies me, but in a different way than he did when we first met.
Something changed between us last night. Or maybe my perspective of him changed. But as he stands before me, looking for all the world like he’s going to break my face, I know he won’t.
He would never lay a hand on me out of anger. He isn’t John Holsten. He isn’t like any man I’ve ever encountered.
He’s worse.
He broke me apart beneath the stars with his kissing and touching and dancing. I’m still trying to pick up the pieces. Needy, shameful pieces that cry out for him and make me crave things. I want to kneel for him, bend to his will, and put my trust in his capable hands.
But I won’t.
I don’t need him to take care of me. I need him to stand at my side when I’m kicking ass and say, I’m with her.
We haven’t spoken about what happened. In fact, I haven’t seen him all day, because some of the cattle escaped through the fence. He’s been in the pasture for the past ten hours helping the guys gather the herd.
We should both go inside and talk, but I’m not ready for that. Certainly not in his current mood.
“You’re outvoted.” I gesture at Conor and the others. “We’re going to dinner, with or without you.”
“Is that why you’re dressed like that?” He sneers at my legs in the jeans I cut into super short shorts. “Are you hard up for male attention? Maybe the waiter will give you something to swallow for dessert.”
My heart folds in on itself.
How can the same mouth be so clitorally pleasurable and emotionally painful?
Jarret steps forward, hands clenched, as Conor shouts, “Take that back!”
“I don’t know what’s going on between you two.” Jake gives Lorne a baleful glare. “But Raina’s been good to you. Good for you. As small as she is, it takes grit to put you in your place. A woman like that deserves admiration, not disrespect.”
Lorne’s hateful lips bow into a deep scowl.
Beneath the ache in my throat simmers a comforting sense of embracement. I feel like I’m part of something, a member of a six-person unit. It’s so staggering and precious I don’t want to let go of it.
As I zip up my hemorrhaging emotions behind a blank expression, Lorne zeroes in on the ragged hitching in my chest.
“Raina…” Regret tempers his tone, but he won’t retract the accusation.
He’s too desperate, too willing to do whatever is needed to keep me here, including hurting my feelings.
I close the distance with unhurried steps, lift my hand, and slap his viciously handsome face.
He glares at me, nostrils pulsing.
The urge to run burns my legs, but I lock my knees and confront his temper head on.
A wordless argument follows. His eyes snarl and demand. I remain icy and resolute. We’re at an impasse, and I’m not backing down.
“Who I am riding with?” I walk toward the parking lot.
“You can ride with us.” Conor falls into step with me, glancing behind her.
“Maybe will ride with you.” Lorne stalks past her. “Raina and I are with Jarret.”
Damn him and his hot-and-cold, back-and-forth bullshit.
He’d rather eat barbed wire than go with us, but he would never stay behind while I go. He’s putting his need to protect me over his anxiety of public places.
No one has ever made me feel as safe as he does, yet so incredibly vulnerable and reckless at the same time. He’s a paradox of extremes. Temptation and aversion. Protection and danger. A slow burn and a quick fuse. There’s no middle path with this guy. He’s either all in or all asshole.