Page 34 of Wild Horses

“You don’t have to swing at every pitch, you know.”

Grinning, I reach out and squeeze his thigh. “Where’s the fun in that?”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“You mispronounced incredible.” This earns me a choked laugh that has him beating on his chest to clear his lungs.

Once he’s breathing, he laces his fingers with mine. “Okay, really, though. Where do you sleep when you’re competing?”

“My trailer has living quarters. It’s small but functional. Sometimes, Dad stays with me; sometimes, he gets a hotel. He,uh, made sure to tell me he’d be getting one tonight.” I fight the blush trying to spread over my cheeks.

War stares at me a beat then shakes his head. “And you travel, what’d you say, two hundred days a year?”

“Give or take. It depends on how many big events are happening and how the season’s going. If I bank enough points early on and the purses are small, then it’s less. If I’m straggling or want the money, then it’s more.”

War’s jaw tightens, and his hand flexes around mine. “I see.”

Before I can unpack those two words, we pull into Lulu’s. I don’t wait for War to come around and open my door, which is apparently the wrong thing to do.

“Laramie, I swear. Can’t you let me be a gentleman?”

I freeze, half out of the Bronco. “Want me to climb back in?”

He sighs. “No. Can I at least get the door to the restaurant for you?”

“Yes. And I promise I won’t fight you for the bill. How’s that?”

“A start.” He’s adorably grumpy. Happy War, annoyed War, just came inside me War. How can I pick a favorite?

His lips twitch when we step into Lulu’s, but he doesn’t say anything about the uneven floors, rough-hewn walls, or twangy Texas country piping over the speakers.

The waitress leads us to a small table near the window, but I wave her off when she offers menus. “We’ll take…” As soon as I start to order, I pause. “Actually, could we have a few minutes?”

War studies me. “Were you about to order for us?”

I duck, inhale, and straighten. “Is my independence a problem for you? I’m not used to being a passenger princess.”

He swallows, and for a heartbeat, I fear the worst. I’m too much. He can’t give up control any more than I can.

“If we’re moving forward, we both have to give.” He leans toward me, crooking his finger. When our faces are mere inches apart, he says, “It’s hot as hell when you take charge, but sometimes, I need to take care of you.”

A piece of me melts. Could I handle that? Giving up power, letting War lead the way? I wait for my twin devils to chime in, to scream for me to cut and run, but they’re silent.

Maybe it’s time to let someone other than my dad see the fragile parts of me.

“And taking care of me entails what?” I ask. This is all new territory for me.

Warm fingers feather over my lips and down my neck. “Little things like opening doors, paying.” I go to argue, but he shushes me. “Paying when I ask you out; being there when you’re scared or sad.” His honey eyes darken. “Worshipping you in bed.”

Closing the space between us, I kiss him, grinning when his eyes widen in surprise. “I think we can work something out.”

The waitress clears her throat, breaking the tension between us. War lays the menu on the table and gestures to me. “She’s the one you want.”

Like a fuzzy blanket on a chilly day, his small offering warms me inside and out. And when the chocolate chip and pecan pancakes arrive, he agrees they’re the best he’s ever had.

Belly full, I rest on my elbows and watch War eat. “So you have a sister?”

“Yes. She’s my twin.”

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