Page 4 of Rope Me

“You’ve got something on your cheek too,” he says, his voice softer now.

I touch my face, finding a streak of bronzer. “Makeup,” I admit with a laugh.

“Why are you wearing that?” His head shakes slightly. “You don’t need it. You never have.”

His words settle over me like a warm blanket, wrapping around the parts of me that have grown cold. In my marriage, I was conditioned to strive for perfection. Looking perfect. Saying the perfect thing. Immaculate, color-coordinated outfits. Flawless was the expectation. Alex’s off-hand compliment feels different. Real.

Alex kneels in front of me, his hands firm but careful as he peels back the mud-soaked fabric from my thigh. I always felt close to Alex. He is the only Kingridge sibling without a match. From what I know, his mother was young and took off shortly after having him.

Beneath him are twins, Bowen and Callum. Their mother was around for a while. I think it was an addiction that ran her off. I rack my brain for details I haven’t thought through in years. Then a few years passed before the younger three came along. Alex was the oldest, but he somehow seemed lost in the shuffle.

There’s no way anyone would lose this man now. His rough hands hold my leg with a gentle touch that I don’t expect. I close my eyes and let myself indulge in the rare sensation of being taken care of—until his next words shock me back to the present.

“Take your pants off.”

“What?” My voice comes out louder than I intend, my cheeks flushing hot. “No. Absolutely not.”

He rolls his eyes. “Cassidy, I need to clean this properly. You don’t want it infected.”

“I don’t have anything else to wear,” I protest.

“Fine. Then I’ll take you across the ranch to my place. You can borrow something there, and we’ll clean this up right.” He stands, his broad frame towering over me and blocking out the sunlight behind him.

I glance down at the blood still rushing from my open wound. “Your wife won’t mind?”

He lets out a deep laugh. “It’s just me. Well, me, Pa, my brothers, and this ranch. That's all I need. I can’t handle anything else.”

“So why not find a wife who can handle you?” I tease, peeking up at him through my lashes.

“You know of anyone?” His grin widens, but there’s a flicker of something unspoken behind it. He slides into the driver’s seat and adjusts it for his tall frame.

We start the bumpy path across the ranch and I take in all its glory. The spa, the trails, the animals… It's like another world out here. Alex and his brothers have done an incredible job with this place.

“When this heals,” he says, glancing at my leg, “come back, and I’ll take you to ride as many horses as you want.”

“Oh, thank you. But I don’t think this place is going to work for what I need because um, it’s not actually for me,” I stammer, suddenly and ridiculously self-conscious. “It’s for my… son.”

“Your son. Oh.”

The oh in his reply stretches on for longer than reasonable.

“Connor is nine. He’s amazing, but he’s different. The way he sees the world and the way he processes things isn’t typical. I think horse therapy might help. Randolph never supported the idea, but now that it’s just me and Connor, I get to call the shots.”

Alex is quiet for a moment, his hands gripping the steering wheel as he looks out at the horizon and I wonder if he’s in shock about me having a child. Even more, I wonder why I care. Connor is the greatest thing in my life. If Alex can’t see that?—

His hand moves back to my thigh. “Connor’s a lucky kid.”

CHAPTER 4

ALEXANDER

She’s a fucking MILF.

As if my dick could get any harder for her. I don’t know what kind of messed-up mommy issues I’m trying to work through, but once the image enters my mind, it won’t shake loose.

Cassidy Knowles—long legs, wide eyes, and a laugh that lodges itself in my chest—sits on my couch wearing a pair of my basketball shorts. They hang low on her hips, and my brain short-circuits every time she shifts.

To make matters worse I’m on my knees in front of her. I take her leg in my hands, my fingers brushing the smooth skin as I wrap her thigh with a bandage. It isn’t just having her in my clothes or even the fact that she’s letting me help. It’s having her here. In my home. That does something to me I can’t explain.

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