A moment later, they turned through the gate, bounced over the cattle guard, and headed down the drive toward the house. “So we’re okay?” he asked.
Her smile was as open and honest as any she’d ever given him. “We’re okay.”
“Good.” He pulled into the parking area behind the house, shifted into park, set the brake, and punched the ignition button. Then he sat back and said, “Because now I have a question for you.”
CHAPTER 14
“Tell me about Trip,” Dalton said. “Joss already told me what he did. Now I want to hear it from you.”
He was sitting sideways, his back to the driver’s door, one muscular arm resting across the steering wheel, the other on the console between the bucket seats. His gaze had an intensity that made the narrow space between them seem heated. Or maybe it only seemed that way because the air-conditioning was off.
Raney laughed. She couldn’t help it. Dalton was such a guy. Forget about her favorite color, which movie was the all-time best, or which authors she loved. Go straight to the men in her past. Guys could be so predictable.
And easily offended, she thought, when she saw his frown.
He’d answered her questions. It was only fair that she answered his. “Trip is a nobody. A total douche. A Texas good ole boy in the worst possible way.”
“Yet you loved him.”
“I thought I did. But even as I accepted his proposal, I had doubts.” She thought back, tried to capture the moment in her mind. A candlelit dinner at an expensive restaurant. Flowers. A beautiful ring. A handsome, successful man sitting across from her. Any woman would have been delighted with such a proposal. Yet, thinking back, all she could remember was how relieved she’d felt. Not happy, or ecstatic. Just glad it was over.
What was over? The courtship? The pretense?
The pressure.
It seemed that everyone—her family, the grocer, Bertie, and even the old lady at the dry cleaner’s—had been anxiously awaiting the big news that Raney Whitcomb was finally getting married.
“You look upset. What are you thinking about?”
She looked over to find him watching her, that frowning brow shadowing his beautiful green eyes. “I’m thinking it’s hot as hell in here. And I also just realized again how close I came to making a catastrophic mistake.”
“By marrying the douche?”
“Exactly. Maybe we should turn the AC back on.”
“But if you didn’t love him, why did you accept his proposal?”
“Because I loved the idea of him. The idea of having someone to help me run the ranch. Of not being single anymore. Of not being thought of as unnatural because I wasn’t married. Once I was married, I could just be me and go on with my life without all that bullshit weighing me down. Does that make sense?”
“None whatsoever. But I’m glad you didn’t marry him. It was disappointing to think that you’d settle for a douche.”
“But I didn’t, did I? Nor will I. Next time there’s any proposing to be done, I’ll be the one doing it. When I’m ready, and when I’m convinced it’s right.” She tried to moderate her tone. It wasn’t Dalton’s fault that Trip was an asshole. “All Trip cared about was my money and my connections. He was just another narcissistic good ole boy looking for someone to parade around on his arm and be hostess to his good ole boy pals and raise his future good ole boy sons.” She was starting to rant, and reminded herself it was Trip she was mad at, not Dalton. “It was a mistake. I realized that and ended it. Any more questions? I’m starting to suffocate.”
“I’m guessing you don’t much like good ole boys.”
“They’re anachronisms. Holdovers from a time when men were men and women were sweet lil thangs who only knew how to look pretty and do what they were told. It’s time we had more good ole gals calling the shots.”
“You’re scaring me.”
“Get used to it.” She sounded bitter and angry again. She was talking too fast, feeling cornered, but didn’t know why. Maybe she really was suffocating.
“And now you’re worried you’re making another mistake. With me. Is that it?”
She stared at him, unable to answer.
“Raney . . . I’m not Trip.”
“I know that.”
“But you’re still worried. I can see it. Why?”
She could feel the shutters come down. She didn’t want to talk about this anymore. She had to get some air.
But when she reached for the door handle, he put his hand on her arm. “Don’t shut me out, Raney.”
Now he was angry, too.
“At least hear what I have to say.”
She wanted to. But she had come to care for Dalton so much. What if she was wrong this time, too? How could she bear that? And why was it so hard to breathe?
He leaned close, hemming her in, one arm on the dashboard, the other on the back of her seat. His eyes were fierce, his lips drawn tight against his teeth. “I don’t give a rat fuck about your money, Raney. I never have and I never will. Give it away. Burn it. I don’t care. It’s you I want.”
She could see he believed that. She wanted to believe it, too. But money changed people. Eroded trust and hope. Maybe not with Dalton. But that last niggling doubt kept eating away. “It’s too hot. I need to get out.”
He drew back. “Just give us a chance. That’s all I ask.”
“Okay.” She threw open the door and almost fell out of the Expedition, her lungs sucking in hot, dusty air. Immediately that feeling of suffocation passed. What was wrong with her? This was Dalton. The only man she trusted other than Daddy.
When he appeared at her side, a new kind of desperation seized her. Reaching out, she grabbed his hand in both of hers, needing the contact. He was her lifeline. Her anchor.
“I’m sorry, Dalton,” she said in a rush. “I know you’re nothing
