Page 46 of Taking Denver

Panic grips my heart. “Ranger.”

“You said you were coming home to me. Do you intend to keep that promise?”

I nod.

We sit in silence for most of the flight, and I try not to remember how we used to be. If this journey had been six months ago, I’d be teasing him or trying to snatch his iPad from his hands. I wish I could go back to how we were, if only to make these moments easier.

“Is Axel home?” I ask.

“I never know where Axel is,” he says. “I only know he’s alive because he’s spending my money.”

I twist my fingers. Axel didn’t have the best upbringing. Ranger largely ignores him, and while part of me is grateful that Axel has some distance from the life his father leads, he’s desperate for Ranger’s attention, sometimes in the worst way. He acts out because feeling Ranger’s wrath is better than nothing, and I wonder what kind of trouble he’s gotten into in the months I’ve been gone.

Once we’re in the sky, I think about Ethan. He has two more days of vacation left, and I hope he makes the most of it. Soon, he’ll be back in San Francisco, and a quick glance at the piece of paper he gave me tells me he lives barely fifteen minutes from the house I shared with Wyatt. He’ll be so close, and I won’t be able to touch him.

“Is there something you need?”

I glance over at Ranger, but he’s talking to Wesson. The dog has abandoned the sofa and is sitting in front of Ranger, tongue out, tail lazily sweeping the carpeted floors.

Ranger grumbles under his breath and dips his hand into the side pocket of his chair.

“You’re spoiled,” he declares before handing the dog a biscuit. Wesson’s tail hits hyper-speed as he nuzzles the biscuit out of Ranger’s palm.

“You’re the one who spoils him,” I point out.

Ranger runs a large palm over Wesson’s head. “Because he’s the only one in the house that likes me.”

I tut. “Oh, woe is you. And the only reason he does like you is because he doesn’t understand the shit you do.”

“Or maybe a predator recognizes a predator,” Ranger says, smirking at me.

“Do not compare yourself to a golden retriever. It’s an insult to a good-natured breed.”

Ranger chuckles, the sound vibrating through me. “You know, Wyatt came to me before he got Wesson. Asked my advice on which dog he thought you’d like most.”

I twitch at the mention of Wyatt but hide the reaction quickly. Ranger focuses on Wesson again, and the dog wanders away and settles back on a couch.

“He almost got you a poodle.”

I chuff a laugh. “A poodle? Does he even know me?”

“Wrong tense, little bird.”

My smile vanishes, and he may as well have slapped it off my face.

“Keep that up for the police, though.” He reopens his iPad. “It’s far more believable if you talk about him like he isn’t six feet under.”

I snatch the iPad and throw it across the plane. It thuds to the ground, sliding beneath another chair. My heart bangs against my chest, my cheeks hot with the anger that pulses through me.

“Pick it up, Denver.”

“No.”

He snatches my wrist, not hard enough to hurt but enough to have me hold my breath. “Go and pick it up, and crawl back to me.” I hate that heat lances through me and that when he releases my wrist to seize the back of my neck, I tremble with something other than fear. I see it in him, too. Desire floods the pits of his eyes like the fires of hell have come to claim me.“You didn’t have an issue getting on your knees for me all those months ago. Have you gained a conscience?”

“At least one of us has.”

“The weaker one,” he bites back, but his eyes drop to my lips. The rising tension is like steam settling on my skin, dampening and warming me all at once. “Do you know how many women I’ve fucked on this plane while imagining they were you?” I try to wrestle free. If I’m too close when he speaks like this, my body will make a decision that my mind begs me not to. But he won’t release me, and his darkened gaze is the eye of a storm, and I stop pulling against his hold. “They wanted me to call them Denver. But I never did. Do you know why?”

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