Page 120 of Buckled in Barbwire

I cinch my arms tight around her, holding my everything against me. “Never a better time, Twinkles.”

That’s the end, but I have a free bonus scene or two fromBuckled in BarbwireHERE.

I also included a little something from the next book. If you’re curious about Bianca’s private conversation with that strange man after Paisley walks off, turn the page…

A sneak peek atSaddled in Secretsfrom the morning Echo went missing…

Bianca

The stranger looming in front of me is like a moldy sack of expired produce. I can tell he’s rotten from the inside out. His creepy focus watches Paisley walk away before flicking that empty gaze back to me.

“Do you know who I am, Bianca?”

My hip cocks to the side, feigning nonchalance. There’s no reason to expose the tremble in my fingers.

“Other than the guy who accepts stolen horses as payment?” I glance at the sky, avoiding his creepy focus. “Not a clue.”

The man’s flat expression remains devoid of any emotion. “I can see why he likes you.”

Meanwhile, he expects a response from me. Too bad. I lift my brows, unwilling to eagerly grab for the carrot.

“Gonna need a favor,” he drawls.

“And I’m gonna need to get gone before you ask.” I kick it in reverse, keeping him in my sights.

A muscle jumps in his clenched jaw. “I’d wait if I were you.”

My boots pause in the gravel. “Why would I?”

“I’d hate to make your life difficult.”

“More threats? How innovative.” Not sure where this bold attitude is coming from, but I hope it sticks around.

“Just need you to pass along a message. That’s all,” he states.

“Why don’t you do it yourself?”

“He won’t listen to me, but I have a feeling you’ll get a different result.”

“Not sure how that’s possible.” Any acquaintance of this man’s is now an enemy of mine. “My son is quite taken with you.”

“I also find that extremely hard to believe.”

Something unsettling glints in his eyes. “Colton hasn’t mentioned me?”

That blow almost tips me sideways. “Colton is your son?”

“Indeed. We’re estranged but I’m hoping to fix that. With your help.” That last part isn’t a request.

“What do you want him to know?” I hate that my voice shakes.

“The family business needs him. Daddy wants him to come home.”

My lips part on a disturbed breath. But then, by some miracle, a loud commotion distracts me from the disturbing news he just threw at me. I whip around to my trailer before he can drop another bomb.

“This conversation isn’t over,” he bellows.

I don’t spare him a backward glance. “It is for me.”

---