Page 3 of Rope Me

“What are you—” I start to ask as I hand her the boot, but I stop dead when I see it.

Blood seeps through the denim of her jeans, running down her thigh. My stomach clenches at the thought of her being hurt.

“You’re bleeding,” I snap, moving closer. “Come here.”

Cassidy glances down at her leg, shrugging. “It’s just a scratch. Not a big deal.”

“The hell it isn’t.” My mind flashes back to one of the only memories I have of my mother before she disappeared from my life and I spring into action. Before Cassidy can protest, I press my hand to her thigh, right above the cut, and apply pressure.

She blinks at me in surprise and her thigh slips ever so slightly away from my grasp.

“Stay still,” I growl.

She stares at me, wide-eyed, her lips slightly parted, and for the first time in years, I feel like a teenage boy again.

CHAPTER 3

CASSIDY

I pressmy hand softly against the rough edge of his jaw. “Alex, I’m okay.” My words are a soft balm in the intensity of the red hot heat flushing his skin. “Look at me. It might need a stitch, but probably not.”

I put a soft hand on the side of his face. Alex’s huge heart has stayed the same for all of his physical changes. I see a flash of the boy he was transposed with the handsome man sitting in front of me and our shared history is jarring.

When his eyes meet mine, he lets out a jagged breath. “I know you are.” His touch softens, but it takes another beat before he releases some of the pressure. “I can take this shirt off and we can wrap it around…” He trails off loosening his necktie.

The thought of Alex shirtless dances briefly through my mind. It’s both completely inappropriate and impossible to stop. This is hardly the time or place. Then again, Alexander Kingridge is hardly the person.

Sure, he’s spent the last ten years transforming from the lanky kid I used to babysit into a broad-shouldered, rugged rancher who looks like he stepped off the cover of a smutty romance novel. But falling for anyone right now—especially him—is the exact opposite of what I need.

Besides, isn’t there some rule against babysitters hooking up with their former charges? Some kind of cougar law or something?

Still, I can’t deny the way his presence gets under my skin. My stomach flutters when he’s close, and a dangerous warmth pools low inside me. After years of living in a loveless marriage, the sheer thought of Alex pushing me back onto this hay bale, his weight pressing against me, is enough to set my nerves on fire. But I force myself to set the fantasy aside. I have no business thinking about him or anyone else like this, not right now.

I tilt his chin up until our eyes lock again. “I’ve got a massive first aid kit in my car. I’ll clean it and cover it. I bet that will take care of things, I won’t even need to go to urgent care.”

“Okay. Right.” He exhales, his hands dragging slowly away from my skin. Goosebumps ripple across my thigh where his fingers lingered. “I don’t like to see—” he begins by way of explanation, his voice rough and low.

“Women get hurt,” I finish for him. “I remember.”

Dropping my hand to the collar of his shirt, I adjust it back into place and straighten his tie. His adam’s apple bobs beneath my knuckles as I work. The heat between us is palpable. I let my fingertips trail ever so briefly across his broad shoulders.

We freeze for just a moment, our eyes locked in a way that makes the whole world fall away. The sound of the wind through the hay, the distant cries of Thrusty the goat—it all fades as he holds me there locked in his gaze. But then his eyes flick away, breaking the spell. When he looks back up, the moment is gone. He smiles, that lopsided, devastating grin and my heart stumbles like a girl who doesn’t know any better instead of the grown, divorced, woman that I am.

“Here, let’s grab that kit.” He holds out a hand to help me down from the hay bale. “What are you doing out here, anyway? Besides getting stuck in goat pens?”

I brush hay off my pants, avoiding his eyes. “The short answer? I’m rebuilding my life now that I’m divorced. The long answer… Your ranch is the only place in town where Randolph’s reach doesn’t extend, so I thought I’d start my search here.”

He exhales as his arm loops casually around my waist, guiding me toward my Jeep. “And what exactly are you looking for?”

Family. A friendly face. A fresh start. A good fuck.There’s so much I want to say, but I settle on a safer answer and go with, “Horses.”

“Horses?” His voice is full of skepticism, His brow raises as he leans against the Jeep door, arms crossed over his chest. “I didn’t take you for the equestrian type.”

“It’s true,” I insist, sliding into the passenger seat. “I’m an occupational therapist or at least that’s what I studied to be. I worked with horses in grad school, and they’re incredible for sensory and physical therapy. Now that I’m on my own it looks like I’ll be putting some of those skills to good use and getting my first grown-up job. I thought…”

I chatter on about all the benefits of horse therapy as Alex heads to the back of my Jeep and retrieves the first aid kit. My stomach swirls with nerves that make me keep talking. He listens with patience and interest as he returns with the kit.

There’s a quiet confidence about him that was never there before. His focus is intense and I can feel his eyes moving over me, taking me in inch by inch.

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