Page 32 of Some Cowboys Fight for Love

Never had it been so hard to shift gears in his head. He wanted to pull her into his arms and demand that she tell him everything she’d been through—to coax from her the reasons she had for being outgoing and warm to him before suddenly turning away. He knew the signs of abuse and trauma. She was good at hiding it, but he’d seen signs of what rested just beneath the surface.

Daniel nodded, all the words he might have said staying lodged in his throat.

The quiet was a stark contrast to his chatter from before. Up the stairs they went until the steps were no longer wide enough for both of them. The lookout was a space that wasn’t more than four feet by four feet. The window was smaller, and they had to crowd close to see through it together.

He released her hand and slipped it around her waist.

“Wow,” she breathed as she stared out the dust-ridden window. “You’re right. You can see all the lights from town from up here.”

Daniel breathed her in, drank in her warmth. The dismal thoughts from before entered his mind, but he shoved them aside. They could talk of other things, but what?

She released a nervous laugh. “You know, I wouldn’t say I’ve dated much, but the guys I have been out with would have never taken me to an abandoned building to be romantic.”

He grunted. “I bet they wooed you, brought you flowers, and took you to fancy dinners. They treated you right.” It had been meant to be an off-the-cuff sort of comment, but the way Aria stiffened against him said everything he needed to know.

Not her father.

A boyfriend.

In a swift motion, he turned her to face him. He searched her face but couldn’t see what he wanted in the dark. “They treated you right, Aria?” He said it more to himself than to her, as if he wanted to convince himself that she hadn’t also been the target of more abuse.

She looked away with a scoff.

“Aria,” he insisted, “you weren’t hurt, were you?”

In one step, she put as much distance between them as was possible in the small space. Aria pressed her back against the wall and waved a dismissive hand. “No one laid their hands on me if that’s what you’re asking.”

His brows furrowed. They both knew that wasn’t the point of his question, but she was doing a good job of avoiding it. “Did someone hurt you?”

She laughed, but it didn’t sound like her usual one. “It doesn’t matter. Can we just enjoy this date for what it is? I would rather?—”

He reached out and grasped her wrist. When she gasped and snatched it away, he noted his mistake with the weight that pressed down on him, deep in his stomach. Before he could apologize, she snapped at him.

“This is hardly the kind of conversation for a first date. We barely know each other.”

“I think I know you better than you want to admit,” he said quietly, watching her like he’d watch a predator ready to strike.

Aria huffed. It wasn’t sinister by any means. If anything, she was trying to keep him at bay while attempting to salvage what they had left of their date. “I just want to have a good time tonight, okay? Let’s do what you planned and forget?—”

“I can’t forget it, Aria.” Still his voice was calm, collected, measured. “I can’t stand thinking about the possibility that someone hurt you. I need to know.”

“Why?” Her question stung. The way she threw it at him made him feel like it was as sharp as a tangible blade. “You don’t need to know me. I don’t need to know you. How can you expect me to tell you something that’s so private—something that can only cause more pain?”

He scowled at her.

“It’s not like you share anything with me!”

He flinched. When she moved toward the stairway, he let her go. She was right. While she hadn’t asked him about those scars, she’d clearly been curious—maybe even concerned. She hadn’t pushed him like he was pushing her now.

Hadn’t he told himself he wouldn’t make her feel backed into a corner? It was the cornered animals that lashed out the hardest. He needed to help her understand that she could trust him if he ever wanted her to open up to him.

Daniel raked a rough hand through his hair and heaved a sigh. He was letting his temper get the better of him. If there was one thing he hated most, it was discovering that someone he cared about had been hurt. He wanted the names of the men who had caused her so much distrust and he wanted to make an example of them.

His hands clenched tightly, his short nails biting into his palms.

No. He wouldn’t return to that person. He wouldn’t use his fists to solve this problem. It wouldn’t help, anyway. She wasn’t currently dating the guy. It wasn’t like he could knock on his door and threaten him to leave her alone.

She’d already left.

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