Page 12 of Stalked By the Rancher

"Listen here, boy," I growl, my words deliberate and heavy with intent. "Nora's not the kind of girl you take out on some high school date. She's...special."

Tommy swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing like a buoy at sea. "Sawyer, I didn't mean?—"

"Save it," I cut him off, my glare unrelenting. "Stay away from her, Tommy. This isn't a request."

He nods, taking a step back, and I know I've made my point clear. He'll spread the word. Sawyer Blackwood's got his sights set on Nora Davenport, and there's not a damn thing anyone can do about it.

I watch him retreat, and unclench fists I didn’t even realize I’d made.

"Blackwood!" The voice behind me is like gravel, rough and grinding.

Edward Davenport, Nora’s father.

Shit-fire.

"Edward," I reply without turning, already knowing this conversation is going to be as pleasant as a rattlesnake bite.

"You think I don't see what's going on?" Edward states, his tone accusing as he steps into my line of sight, brows furrowed with concern and something fiercer. "You're a grown man, Sawyer. What the hell are you doing with my daughter?"

"Easy, Edward," I say, my voice calm but my insides churning. "You're reading it wrong."

"Am I?" He's practically spitting the words. "She's a kid, Sawyer. And you're filling her head with ideas, showering her with attention. Don't think I haven't noticed."

"Your daughter isn't a child," I say firmly, meeting his gaze without flinching. "She's a woman, and she knows her own mind."

"Knows her own mind?" His laugh is bitter. "You're twice her age, and you've got experience she can't even imagine. You could be using that, taking advantage..."

"Hey now," I interject, feeling a flare of anger at the accusation. "I respect Nora. Everything between us is mutual, believe me."

"Mutual," he repeats, skepticism written all over his face. "I don’t care if you are my boss, Blackwood. If you hurt her?—"

"You won't have to worry about that," I assure him, but the edge in my voice makes it sound more like a threat than a promise.

Edward shakes his head, muttering under his breath as he stalks away. I watch him go, the weight of his words settling on my shoulders like a winter coat. But it doesn't change anything.

Nora's under my skin, in my blood, and I'll do whatever it takes to make sure she stays mine.

The sun dips lower, casting long shadows on the ground, and I turn back to the fields. Tonight, Nora will be with me, and I'll show her pleasures that will make her forget boys like Tommy ever existed. Because when it comes to Nora, I'm playing for keeps.

* * *

Nora

I'm leaning against the hood of Sawyer's glossy black truck, the cool metal barely registering against my thighs through the thin fabric of my dress. The night sky is a blanket of stars, each one twinkling like a promise of something more—something wild and uncharted. I can't help but feel caught between two worlds: the one where I'm Daddy's little girl, and the one where I'm the object of Sawyer Blackwood's burning desire.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Sawyer's voice rumbles from behind me, warm breath tickling my ear. He's close, too close, his body heat enveloping me in a way that makes my insides twist with a delicious tension.

"Yeah," I whisper back, my gaze still fixed on the heavens above. "It's like nothing I've ever seen before."

“You’re like nothing I’ve even seen before,” he says as he wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me back against his solid chest, and I can feel that all-too-familiar thrill coursing through me. His touch is possessive, sure, but it's also protective in a way that has my heart racing.

"I missed you today," I admit, letting myself rest against him for just a moment longer before stepping away. There’s a part of me that’s screaming to stay right there, wrapped up in his strength. But then there’s another, quieter voice reminding me of the looks Dad’s been giving us—the suspicion in his eyes.

"Come here, darlin’," Sawyer says, and before I know it, he's sweeping me into his arms and walking towards the front porch. He sets me down gently on the top step and crouches in front of me. From his pocket, he pulls out a small velvet box and opens it to reveal a shimmering necklace, the diamonds catching the moonlight and throwing sparks into the darkness.

"Jesus, Sawyer...I can't..." The protest dies on my lips as he fastens the necklace around my throat, his fingers brushing my skin in a way that sends shivers down my spine.

"Can't what? Accept a gift from someone who cares about you?" His blue eyes are intense, drilling into mine with an emotion I can't quite name. It's more than lust. It's almost like a plea.

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