Page 82 of Rope Me In

Presley looks at me funny but does what I ask anyway, and my heart palpitates from the display of continual trust she’s shown me. I place my own camping pillow behind her then get into position so she’s sitting between my legs.

“Hold this for me,” I say, giving her the twine. Once my hands are free, I bring them up to her scalp and drag my fingers through her wind-blown locks, gently working through the tangles. A small sigh leaves her lips, and then she stiffens.

“What are you doing?”

I continue to work my fingers through her hair. “I’m braiding your hair for you.”

I imagine if I could see her face right now, it would be confused, but I continue with my task.

“You’re braiding my hair?” she asks. Yep, she’s confused. I guess I would be, too. I’m sure that asshole ex of hers wouldn’t know how to braid hair. Even if he did, his fragile masculinity would be reason enough for him to never admit it.

“That I am.” I start to work the sections down her head, gathering more in each one to create a French braid. It won’t be the best in the world, but it will keep her hair out of her face while we’re here. She sighs as my nails drag across the sensitive skin of her scalp then again when I tug the pieces tight.

“How did you learn to braid hair?” she asks after a moment, her body relaxing against mine as the breeze blows around us.

“I braided my horse’s hair for rodeos when I was younger. Then I started to braid my own rope as a hobby when I would get bored.”

“I see.” I can hear the smile in her voice as she says it. “What did you do at the rodeo?”

I lean close so my lips are against her ear. I enjoy the way she shivers when she feels my breath there. “Roping,” I say, letting my lips kiss her now exposed neck. “But mostly reining.” I ask her for the twine and make sure my fingers drag over her hand as I take it in mine. Satisfied with the way the braid looks, I tie the end then give it a little tug. “All done.”

To my surprise, Presley doesn’t move. Instead, she leans back into me. I stroke my palms from her shoulders and down her arms, stacking mine on top of hers so that our fingers entwine. She turns her head and tilts her chin up so she’s looking at me then removes her hands and directs mine so that they’re sliding over her stomach.

Even though her body tenses, she holds eye contact with me as she does it. My heart swells with pride, and a tingling warmth spreads throughout every crack and crevice in my body. Not only did she share her violin playing with me earlier, but now she’s conquering one of her biggest vulnerabilities.

This is a big moment for her. For us. Bigger than anything we’ve done so far.

With a smile tugging at her lips, she places her arms over mine and entwines our hands once more over the middle of her stomach. I lean down and hover my lips over hers, the breeze gently blowing between us. As I’m about to close the distance, she does it for me, pressing her lips to mine.

The kiss is short and chaste and the most intimate I’ve ever had. When Presley pulls away, she sighs happily and leans back into my chest. Our eyes turn toward the sunset, but I’m not paying close attention to the burning orange and yellow colors in the sky. I’m much too focused on the woman in my arms—how her weight feels against me, the way the berry scentof her hair tickles my nose, and that every minute we spend together, I feel as though something foundational in me shifts like a tectonic plate.

“It’s beautiful here,” she says. “Do you come here a lot?”

I start to play with her fingers before I press my cheek to the side of her head. It’s my way of seeking comfort, even if I don’t want to admit I need it. Especially since she’s asking questions that will get me closer to revealing why I wanted to bring her here.

“I haven’t been here in almost four months. But I would come quite often before that—though not as much as before my dad died. He used to bring Gavin and I out here quite a bit, especially if there was something we had to work through or something he wanted to talk to us about. Then there were times Dad and I would come out here together as well.”

Presley lets me trace the lifelines on one of her palms as she says, “Tell me about him.”

“My dad?”

She nods. “You told me about why you and Gavin have been having issues, that he lied about the situation you were in a few months back and that your dad left him the land. But I don’t know much about you, Kade. I feel like you know too much about me at this point.”

I shake my head. “I want to know everything about you.”

She rolls her eyes. “You can be really cheesy sometimes.”

“You haven’t seen anything yet, Lemon darlin’. Stick around long enough, and there’ll be so much cheese, you can make nachos.”

“Okay, now you’re just being weird.”

I squeeze her again then pull away so I can sit next to her instead. She looks at me funny, but I gesture to the food. “Let’s eat before we lose light.”

She crosses her legs and looks at the food then at me. “Are you trying to avoid my request?”

“Maybe.” I chuckle. While I do want to tell her about my dad, the words feel like peanut butter on the roof of my mouth.

Presley knocks my shoulder with hers. “You don’t have to tell me anything, Kade. But I’m here to listen.”

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