Page 72 of Rope Me In

“Then let’s get out of here.”

Chapter 24

Presley

Kade’s hand rests onmy inner thigh as we drive back to the ranch. It feels foreign to have a touch that’s both safe and gentle yet possessive on my body. His fingers dig into my skin every now and then like he’s either remembering punching Derek or wanting to punch him again.

I need you.My words on the dance floor ring in my ears.I need you. I can’t believe I said those words out loud, but it was true. I did need him. Idoneed him. And sitting in the truck with him right now, driving down the dark roads, feels good. Right. Even if it doesn’t make a lot of sense.

I look down at his raw knuckle and cringe. “You should ice that.”

He flashes me a cheeky grin. “You worried about me, Lemon darlin’?”

I flush at his question, the color of my cheeks answering him. I fix my gaze on his hand and study the marred skin. I debate touching him then decidescrew it. I’ve already done so many things unlike myself in the last twenty-four hours, I might as well add more to the list.

I trace my finger over his bones, making sure I steer clear of any open wounds. When we go over a bump in the road, I must hit a sore spot, because he hisses.

“Sorry.”

I pull away, but he grabs my hand before I can get too far, gripping it with reassurance. “Don’t be. It’s just a little sore, butit’ll heal quick. It’s not the first time I’ve punched someone.” His tone is playful, though I wonder if that’s to cover up the emotions that come with those memories.

Kade places our entwined hands on my thigh, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. The truck is silent save the sound of the road beneath the tires and the wind against the windows. I close my eyes, indulging in the sensation of Kade’s hand in mine and the warmth of his touch.

In the quiet, my mind wanders back to the altercation with Derek. I’ve never laid a hand on anyone in my life. I can’t say I want to do it again or that I would normally condone violence, but Derek deserved it. He honestly deserved more than that given the things he said—and in a small town in front of the people I work with, no less.

I’m sure what happened is already being gossiped about and spreading like wildfire. So much for staying under the radar. In a way, I feel free, freer than I ever have before. But that doesn’t mean I don’t regret what happened tonight.

I gently squeeze Kade’s hand. “I’m sorry.”

He looks at me briefly as we pull down a road close to the ranch. The sound of the gravel beneath the tires is now familiar and comforting. I used to find it almost irritating.

“For what?” he asks.

“For what happened and for your hand. Derek has always had a temper, but I didn’t think he’d get drunk, show up here, and make a scene. And I’m sorry he got you involved.”

“First, you have nothing to be sorry for. You can’t control the actions of someone else; only Derek is to blame for what happened.”

He pauses, like whatever he said is applying to more than just this situation.

I watch him swallow, his Adam’s apple bobbing before he continues. “Like I said, my hand is fine. I’m just glad I was there.” He lifts our joined hands and kisses the back of mineso tenderly it almost makes me weep.Who is this sweet cowboy, and where the hell did he come from?

“Kade,” I whisper. “Derek’s not my boyfriend. I mean, he was, but—”

Kade places our hands back down on my thigh as we pull into the ranch’s driveway. “You don’t owe me an explanation.”

“No, I want you to know.” I swallow, willing my now nervous stomach to settle. “We broke up after he cheated on me—on Valentine’s Day, no less. But we were in a band together, which forced me to be around him almost every day, even after the breakup. He’s obviously very angry that I left, and I can explain that, too, if you want. But I need you to know that I’m not with him. He doesn’t mean anything to me, and I’m so sorry that he even came here tonight. The awful things he said he—”

“Presley.” Kade stops me. “Take a breath.” He removes his hand from mine to turn off the ignition, and I see we’re parked in front of the hands’ quarters. He unbuckles his seatbelt before scooting across the bench seat and taking my face in his hands. Then he inhales with me. “Flowers, whiskey, football,” he says.

I can’t help but smile.

“Now you do some.”

“Birds, T-Rex, blanket, stars, horses, marker…lemons,” I finish. My lips curl into a soft grin.

He brushes his thumb over the apple of my cheek. “Feel better?”

I nod, leaning my head into one of his calloused hands, soaking up his strength and comfort and letting it seep into my body. My eyes fall closed as I take in another breath. Then another.

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