Page 30 of Stud Ranch

If they asked him to join in, could he do it?

Better question was: Could he hold himself back?

After he passed Sloane the bottle, she set it aside and began passing out food. She tore her sandwich in half and held part out to him.

“You don’t need to share with me, Sloane.”

Her stare burned into his. “I know I don’t, Shaw.”

It felt like an olive branch.

Accepting it with a small smile, he watched how she interacted with Dylan…and he with her.

He’d seen Dylan with plenty of women in their years on the ranch, but the man seemed more on edge. Like he hovered at the precipice of a cliff.

A strange thought, but now that it was fixed in Shaw’s brain, he couldn’t shake it. They ate in silence.

Dylan reached into the container of berries and tossed one up in the air, catching it perfectly in his mouth.

Sloane clapped and then a pink flush climbed up her face. “Sorry for that reaction, guys. I’m used to applauding for my daughter.”

Her stare darted to Shaw’s.

“As in, our daughter who you walked away from?”

He felt those words in the pit of his soul.

Gathering himself off the blanket, he stood. “Well, I’m doing the heavy lifting of chores on the ranch this week. I’d best get back. Thanks for the food, guys.”

Without another word or a backward glance, he left the statue garden, feeling more lifeless than the carvings.

Chapter Seven

Sloane eyed up the selection of dresses spread out on the bed. The blue was too tame—she’d look like a librarian.

The black was slinky and showed off her curves. It was also a micro-mini length. Perfect for a cocktail party where you’re standing around with a drink in hand all night, but it made sitting difficult.

Dylan stood next to her, surveying the dresses too.

She gave him the side-eye. “What does one wear to a BDSM show?”

His gaze flickered to hers. “You really wanna know?”

Her breath came faster. “Yes.”

“Handcuffs and an anal plug.”

Her jaw dropped even as her butt cheeks clenched at the very thought of having something inserted in her backside.

Leaning forward, she snatched the red dress off the bed and whirled toward the bathroom. Even from inside, she could hear Dylan chuckling.

Shaking her head, she bit down on her lip. She could do this—push her own boundaries.

Her entire day had been about pushing boundaries, hadn’t it? First by sharing a civilized meal with her ex. More shocking was that she mostly forgave him for the things he said to her.

Now Dylan was pushing boundaries even further by taking her to see a BDSM show. She had no clue what that would entail. To her, BDSM was whips and black leather, neither of which were her thing, but she was here to explore.

When she left the ranch, she couldn’t say she didn’t get her money’s worth.

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