Page 119 of Stockman's Stormcloud

‘A sweet sixteen grand.’ Dex unlocked the back of his ute and lowered the tray, then unzipped his fighting bag, exposing a well-stocked first-aid kit. ‘It’s a good deposit for a honeymoon, unless you want a big wedding?’

‘I don’t know that many people.’ Was she delusional or something? This conversation was not real. Her tongue brushed along her teeth to check that none of them had come loose along her pounding jaw.

‘So that’s a yes, I’m guessing.’ Dex kept a stern face, but the joy was in his eyes.

‘I’ll give you my answer when you get the ring and ask me properly.’ She tried to lift her chin, but it hurt. Her entire face throbbed. ‘I’m not that easy.’

‘I know.’ He kissed her lips.

‘Ow.’ Her lips stung, too, and she could taste the sweat and blood.

‘You keep the ice on this, while I fix up your wounds.’ He made her sit on the tailgate, as he dabbed antiseptic on her cuts, just like she’d done for him that first night they’d met at the hospital. ‘You won’t need any stitches.’

‘How do I explain this when I go back to work?’ She could feel the black eye forming with the lump on her cheek.

‘I don’t care, you still look beautiful to me.’ The way he looked at her, she believed him.

‘Please tell me it worked. That you don’t have to fight?’

‘Your delay tactic worked. They’ve pushed me back a bit as your fight has stirred up the crowd with more men having a go.’

‘How come they let us women in like that? Isn’t there a fighting order?’

‘Female fights are a rarity, but it happens. Sometimes the blood gets all worked up just from the atmosphere and fights break out around the arena. The organiser will push them to finish it inside the arena so they can make money off those skirmishes.’

‘I could feel the crowd’s heat, like a savageness.’

‘It’s what happens. If you tap into that primal emotion, you don’t feel the punches.’

‘I feel them now.’

‘But you fought with heart, Sophie, and that’s rare.’

‘I fought for us.’

He lowered his head against hers and looked deep into her eyes. ‘Yes, you did. And you won. But now it’s my turn.’

Thirty-nine

The dark car park was cool and quiet, with a ceiling of stars above them as the crowd roared, announcing the beginning of another fight.

Dex was so proud of Sophie. Who was not just nice, she was naughty—which was hot. He loved a woman who came out swinging, and he loved her, and she loved him. He really was about to trip over into the land of happily ever after, looking forward to waking up to the little blonde minx in his bed for the rest of his life.

But first she needed to get over tonight’s war wounds. He dabbed antiseptic over her knuckles and bandaged them up, even kissing them to make her smile with her fat lip. Oh, she was going to feel that tomorrow.

‘What the hell were you thinking, Marla?’ It was Hank, shouting at his partner as they wove their way through the parked cars. ‘We’re meant to be leaving but, no, we had to wait for you.’

Dex held Sophie to his chest, and whispered, ‘Don’t move, it’s the cattle rustlers.’

‘I was fighting some blonde.’ Marla spat out blood, holding an icepack to her face.

‘I can’t believe you let that little cream puff beat you. I lost money on that bet.’

‘So, you’re just mad at me about losing the money that you spent on yourself? That wasourmoney, forourhouse. Not to fight or bet with.’ Marla stabbed at the air as she limped behind Hank.

‘We just have to sell the cattle.’

‘No one is buying that stock. So far every punter has recognised that cattle brand like it’s some witch’s curse to back away from any deal. We should have listened to my brother and gone down south to his mate at the meatworks.’ Marla stomped after Hank as they wove through the car park towards the dark edge of the paddock.

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