Page 24 of Property of Legend

My stomach does a little flip.I hate that it does.

I tilt my head.

He just looks at me like I’m something he wants but knows he shouldn’t touch.

And that look?

That’s the most dangerous thing of all.

Legend doesn’t say anything right away, and maybe that’s why I do.

“I know what this looks like,” I murmur, tracing the condensation on my glass.“Me playing dress-up in boots too big for me.But this place, Paradise Falls, it’s not just a farm.It’s home, my whole damn world.It’s all I’ve got left of my mama, and the only thing keeping my daddy breathing.His legacy is in my hands.”

Legend watches me like he’s trying to read the fine print on my soul.

“You’ll do great,” he says, sure.

I scoff, shaking my head.“You don’t get it.I’m not him.I’m not some horse-racing tycoon with steel in my spine.I’m just… scrappy on the inside and exhausted on the outside.I don’t want to fight.I want peace.Which means I’m going to lose.To the bank.To James.To anyone willing to throw a punch harder than me.”

He leans in, eyes burning.“Your daddy wouldn’t have handed you the reins if he didn’t think you could hold on.”

I blink back the sting behind my eyes, swallow the lump in my throat.“You know what he said to me?The last real conversation we had?He told me I love shitty men.”

Legend raises a brow.“Sounds like he had some opinions.”

“He ain’t wrong,” I admit, laughing without humor.“M first heartbreak was the preacher’s son.Last one?Sam.Who was perfect.I broke it off.Daddy said I only fall for broken things I think I can fix.”

Legend’s jaw ticks.“I’m not a preacher’s son.”

“Aint talkin’ ‘bout you.”

“But your daddy thinks I’m one of them, shitty men.”

“I think you are.”

He smirks, but there’s pain behind it.“Well, you’re right.I am a shitty man.”

“No shit,” I whisper.“The shittiest.”

We’re close now.Closer than we should be in a bar full of outlaws.The music fades.The crowd blurs.It’s just us and this weighty silence between a thousand unsaid things.

His hand brushes mine on the bar, rough fingers grazing my skin, and I think he might kiss me.I think I might let him.

Then she appears.

Darla.Blonde, braless, and smug in a cutoff tank with “KINGS ONLY” scrawled across it in Sharpie.She leans over the bar in front of us, tits nearly on the counter, her lip gloss catching the light.

“Hey, Legend,” she drawls, voice sweet as the tea.“Just a heads up.Becki ain’t happy, just so you know.Said you left her hangin’ earlier.Again.”

He doesn’t look at her.Not once.But the spell is broken.

“Do I look like I give a damn.”

“I just saw her in the bathroom.She fixin’ to cut off her damn hair.”

“And?”

“Just thought you’d wanna know.”

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