Page 51 of Live for Me

I popped the car door open, folding myself out of it. “What the hell are you doing?” I shouted, shaking my head in disbelief.

“What the fuck does it look like?” he quipped.

I slammed Dave’s door and stalked towards him, throwing my arm out. “Endangering Spirit.”

“He’s fine. He’s jumped higher,” Beau replied.

I gaped at him and looked back to Dave’s car to find him slowly getting out.

“If you think I’m going to just watch you walk away from me again, you’re out of your goddamn mind.”

My head whipped back to Beau, finding him off his horse now. He took a step closer. “If you think I’m going to let you walk away when you’re in danger, you’re out of your goddamn mind.”

He took another step, then another, not stopping until he was directly in front of me, his scent overwhelming me. His next words came out as a whisper, almost to himself as he stared down into my eyes.

“If you think I’m going to let you go again, you’re out of your goddamn mind.”

I shook my head, fear blooming in my heart. “You can’t say things like that to me,” I whispered back, my voice cracking at the end.

His hand shot up, wrapping around the back of my neck. “The hell I can’t,” he growled just before his mouth slammed down onto mine. My hands shot up to his chest, ready to push him off, ready to set a boundary.

Then, his tongue shot out, stroking the seam of my lips.

Before I could comprehend it, my body gave in to him. My mouth opened, letting him in as my hands fisted his flannel, clinging to him. On a second growl, his tongue swooped in, drinking from me like I was the only thing he needed in this world. His fingers tightened on the back of my neck, holding me in place as he rediscovered me and I, him.

His taste—God. Mint.

A sound came from the back of his throat just as I let out a moan. My hands slid up his chest to his shoulders, feeling his chest against mine as the breeze blew around us. He slanted my head to the side, groaning and kissing me harder.

Our lips melded together in a frenzy of apologies and heartache. For a few fleeting moments, I wasn’t Abbie, successful journalist. I was just Abbie, Beau’s wildflower, and he was still the same old Beau, the man who supposed to be my husband, my everything.

“JesusChrist,” he grunted against me, his hand moving to cup my face just as he pulled away.

“Beau,” I rasped, my eyes fluttering open to find nothing but his blue.

His thumb stroked my cheek, the rough pad of it sending a chill down my spine despite the heat. “Yeah,” he murmured, his voice low.

A throat cleared behind us, and I looked over my shoulder. Dave was leaning against his Audi, holding up his phone. “Now that,” he said proudly, “needs to be framed.”

My jaw dropped, and Beau said nothing, his hands falling away from me. I looked back to him, ignoring how much it hurt to watch him pull away. The warmth, the overwhelming heat in his eyes, had disappeared by the time they collided with mine again. That was when I knew.

Beau never intended on kissing me.

That was mistake, and we both knew it.

“You aren’t leaving Hallow Ranch,” he declared.

“I have to, Beau,” I told him, my voice unsteady, heart pounding.

“No, you don’t. You are under my damn protection, and the safest place for you is here.”

I waited: like a fool I waited for him to add on to that sentence.With me.

When those words didn’t come, I mentally shook it off and took a few steps back. Being here with him was dangerous. We hadn’t even been around each other two days, and we’d already given in. He regretted kissing me. I could see it in his eyes, the agony glimmering within his blue.

What pissed me off about that was his agony only made them even more beautiful.

“Abbie, you’re staying here.”

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