Dylan let out a slow breath. “You know this isn’t forever, right? I need to compete. Be on the road. I haven’t made a secret about that.”
“How long are we talking?”
“Sooner rather than later. The World Championships are only a few months away, and I have to be ready if I’m going to win. That means I need to start riding bulls again.”
I momentarily froze. Hearing him say the words was like standing beneath the waterfall on a winter’s day. “I know,” I said and shrugged. “It’s fine. I’m fine, but for now, can’t we just pretend that this is our own piece of paradise? That this is forever?”
“Sure,” he said, knowing full well I wasn’t fine. “We can pretend this is the real deal. Now go get dressed, I’m taking my girl to dinner.”
My heart tumbled to my toes. I didn’t have to pretend this was the real deal, because, for me, it was. The sudden, overwhelming realization that I loved him stole my breath.
Why did I have to be one of those all or nothing people? Why did I have to go to extremes with everything? One drink was never enough. One kiss was never enough. One hookup was never enough.
He had a life to go back to. Why in God’s name would he want to stay shacked up on a ranch with me when he had a successful career beyond the mountains?
“Pick me up at my cabin in an hour,” I said, sounding more cheerful than I felt. “I’ll be the one wearing a horse’s blanket because nothing else will fit.” I stood and set my guitar on the chair. “I don’t know how I let you talk me into this.”
“Because I give you mind-blowing orgasms.”
“You do have some talent in that department.”
He reached around and smacked my butt. “You bet your ass I do.”
I nuzzled my lips along his whiskers and grinned. “Save that for later, cowboy.”
“I have that and a lot more in mind. I’ve been practicing my rope tying skills.”
“Like you need any practice.” I walked away to the sound of him chuckling. I smiled too, but that was for show. The devil on my shoulder rubbed his hands together and whispered that now would be the perfect time for a drink because it would be the only thing that would get me through tonight.
He might be right.
Dylan
How could I tell her I was leaving tomorrow?
After pestering the crap out of Mason, he said if I took a concussion test and passed, he would clear me for riding.
Earlier, when Montana had gone back to her cabin, I made my way to his office in town, took the test, and passed by the skin of my teeth. He suggested I wait a while longer, but I told him, no, that my head was fine.
There was a rodeo coming up in Tulsa. I’d already registered online, and if I left before dawn and drove like the devil, I’d make it.
The time was right to get back in the saddle and get back to my real life. One filled with ropes, roughstock, and re-rides.
I’d be in Nashville in two weeks’ time for the Music City Knockout. I’d love to see Montana in the stands, cheering me on, but I wasn’t hopeful she’d come. Dinner was one thing. Expecting her to go to an arena with twenty thousand spectators would be asking too much.
In my dreams, she would come on the road with me. But there was no way she would last a week roughing it. What kind of life could I offer her? One of me always going from one rodeo to another. Never knowing if I would get hurt or killed.
As a kid, I’d watched my mom go through that with my dad, and I swore I’d never put a wife or kids through anything similar.
I didn’t know if a family was something Montana wanted. I sure didn’t. I didn’t want my kids to hear fights about my life on the road. And I sure as shit didn’t want to be the type of dad who only came home when he was too beat-up to ride.
What if... I shook my head. No what-ifs. My world wasn’t hers, and her world wasn’t mine.
Besides, her mind wasn’t in the right place yet. I had faith she would get there and overcome her fear of going new places and being around people she didn’t know. I didn’t doubt that the draw of the crowd, the fame, and the glory would entice her back one day.
Whistling Wind Ranch had been good for both of us, but all good things always had to end, didn’t they?
I pulled up outside her cabin and jumped out of my truck. I wouldn’t share my news with her until after dinner. I didn’t have the heart to do it sooner. Who was the coward now?
For the first time in almost ten months, she would leave the ranch without being forced, and I wouldn’t ruin that by telling her I was leaving.
She was writing again, and from the sound coming from behind the closed door, singing again, too. Her voice drifted out to the porch. Something about dirt road kisses and lemonade.
Not wanting to barge in on her when she was in the middle of something, I rapped my knuckles against the door. After a few seconds, she opened up.
My heart lurched against my rib cage. “You’re breathtaking.”
“Why, this old thang?” She wore a short, flower-covered summer dress and a pair of well-worn cowboy boots. Her hair streamed over her shoulders, and her lips were painted fire-engine red. Later, I hoped she’d wrap those lips around my dick.
“I’m in two minds about staying in or going out to dinner now,”
