Page 9 of Ride Me Cowboy

I lay down the law like I always do, knowing that when push comes to shove, no one’s going to challenge me.

Caleb throws me a glance, Austin does a salute, Mackenzie rolls her eyes and Beau shrugs. “Whatever. Plenty more fish in the sea.” He glances around the bar. “In fact, there’s a pretty little thing I wouldn’t mind getting to know.” He scrapes back his chair and, beer in one hand, begins to make his way through the bar, to a table of young women sharing a bottle of wine.

I expel a breath when he’s gone and force myself to relax. Tolookrelaxed, but I can’t help wondering: what if I’ve bitten off more than I can chew by letting this woman onto the ranch? The last thing I need right now is to give two cares about anything or anyone besides the mess we’re in, and that includes knock out New Yorkers with a penchant for numbers.

Beth

I’m just about to pull the mac and cheese from the oven when I hear the crunch of tires on the gravel. I freeze, like a deer in headlights, but it’s when the sound of the front door opening reaches me that I go into full blown panic. Just like I did almost every night of my marriage.

The days were okay, because Christopher was at work. In the days, I could read, eat what I wanted, heal. Think about leaving. But the second I heard him coming home, I knew my walking on eggshells time was about to start, and the consequences of saying or doing anything wrong would hurt. A lot.

Even though it’s been three months since I’ve had to live with that fear, the sound of the door opening brings it all back like a freight train, so by the time Cole strides into the kitchen—too distracted to notice me at first—I’m shaking like a leaf.

But he’s deep in thought, so it takes a second for his gaze to stray my way. I’m still shaking, but at least I’ve had time to hide my hands by my side and try to arrange my face into some kind of smile.

“Jesus, Beth, you scared me half to death. I didn’t realize you were in here.”

I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out, and he grimaces.

“I’m sorry.” He holds up his hands, palms out. “I should have knocked.”

It’s so kind and unnecessary that I shake my head. “It’s fine,” I say, after a beat, then clear my throat, aiming to infuse my voice with a bit more volume and steadiness. “I mean, it’s your house. You can come and go as you please.”

He nods, still looking at me. Lookinginsideme.

Silence crackles around us. I hate silence. With Christopher, silence was always bad.

“Watcha making?” he asks, surprising me with the subject change.

I exhale slowly. “Mac and cheese.” It might not seem like a big deal, but to me, it is. Calorie laden, carb heavy pasta was on the banned list, under Christopher’s regime. And before you’re asking how a smart woman ended up being so totally controlled, let me tell you: it doesn’t happen overnight, and it doesn’t come with a lot of warning. If I’d seen any sign that he was capable of taking over my life and controlling it like a dictator, I would have run a mile. But he waited until I was in too deep for that.

“Mmm,” Cole says. “It smells good.”

“You want some?” Out of habit, I’ve cooked for two, anyway.

He glances at me. “You sure?”

“You’re hungry?” I prompt. “I presume you’d all gone for dinner or something.”

“Yeah, we did,” he says. “But I didn’t eat.”

I frown. “You went for dinner but didn’t eat?”

“It was too busy.”

It doesn’t make a lot of sense, but I shrug. “Did you want a salad, too?”

He pulls a face. “Do I look like the kind of guy who’d want salad?”

I laugh. A natural, light laugh. Since when was I even capable of that? “Don’t tell me you’re a stereotypical tough guy, Cole?”

He pulls two beers from the fridge, and I stiffen. Alcohol makes everything worse. But this isn’t Christopher. It’s Cole. And this isn’t several glasses of whisky. It’s a single beer.

“You want?” He holds it out to me. I hesitate a moment, before taking the bottle. Another act of defiance to Christopher.

“Sure,” I nod. “Thanks.”

Cole takes out two deep bowls and hands them to me, but this time, he stands close, so I inhale a hint of his cologne and those hairs along the back of my neck all stand on end again.

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