Page 12 of Duke
His gaze bores into mine. His face is a mask of concern.
Goddamn it, why does he have to care so much? He’s ruining everything.
He’s making me feeleverything, and that scares the shit out of me.
Throat tight, I manage a smile. “Thanks, but I’ll be okay. See you around, Duke.”
CHAPTER 4
Horse of a Different Color
Duke
Putting my truck in gear, I nearly jump out of my skin when Ryder bangs on the passenger side door and looks at me through the open window.
“You headin’ to the Wallaces’?”
“Nah. Just hitched an empty trailer to my truck for shits and giggles.”
Grinning, he yanks open the door and hops inside. “Figured you could use an extra pair of hands.”
“To pick up one horse?” I eye him. “I know what you’re doing.”
He yanks on his seat belt. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”
“You’re not as dumb as you look.”
“Dude, stop calling yourself dumb. Sawyer’s always telling Ella to be kind to herself, and I think you should too.”
Releasing the brake, I let out a sound that’s half chuckle, half groan. “I made an identical twin joke without meaning to. Ha.”
“Good thing your twin was smart enough to catch it.”
“Hey. I thought I was the smart one.”
Ryder lifts his Stetson off his head and runs a hand through his hair. “Can’t we both be smart?”
“I guess. But I’m smarter.”
He chuckles. “Still jealous I was the favorite, yeah?”
“You were the favorite only when Wyatt wasn’t.”
“Salty.”
I grin. “Honest.”
We bump over the dirt road that leads away from the equipment barn. Digging into his pocket, Ryder pulls out his knife and turns it over in his hands. He doesn’t release the blade; instead he admires the wood grain of the handle. “I was bored. Wanted to go for a little drive.”
The knife belonged to Dad, his initials stamped on the clip-point metal blade. It was a gift from Mom on their wedding day. Ryder found it in the plastic bag of our parents’ belongings that the hospital gave us after they died. He’s had the knife on him ever since. I mean that literally—not once in the past twelve-plus years have I seen him without it.
“You’re hungover and you want to see Billie, even though I keep telling you that Colt’ll rip you a new one if you so much as lay a finger on her.”
His grin stays put as he replies, “Only one of those things is true.” He glances at me. “How’reyoufeeling today?”
I blow out a breath. How do I tell my brother I tossed and turned all night, beating myself up over what I did—and didn’t—say to Wheeler at the Rattler?
I also woke up hard. Girl was so fucking sexy. Her sense of humor, her intelligence, those legs—
