Page 12 of Brand Me, Cowboy's Second Chance

"Oh, hell no." Anny’s voice comes from behind me.

From there it’s a blur. Bellcourt laughs. Alex lunges. We manage to grab him before he can land a punch, but a table flips in the process. Cutlery cascades to the floor with a loud crash that brings the night screeching to a halt. Alex is seething.

I step in. "You're out of line, and you’re done here." My heart thuds in my chest as I stare at him with heat in my eyes.

The mayor turns to me, completely unbothered. "Ah. The prodigal son. Back from your little football vacation to play cowboy again, huh?"

"You want to try me?" I growl.

"Try you?" His smirk widens. "Son, you wouldn't last five minutes in a town hall meeting. Leave the grown-up business to the people who know how to get things done."

I don't remember closing the distance, but I'm suddenly right there in his face. My fists are clenched. My vision narrows. I've got a dozen reasons not to swing. Not a single one of them is good enough to stop me.

Alex and Bellcourt sling insults back and forth. Cassidy pleads for them to stop causing a scene. Alex takes a step back like he might be ready to end it, but I’m not planning on letting the mayor off that easily no matter how many people are watching.

Then something shifts in the periphery. It’s Becca Bellcourt.

The mayor's twenty-two-year-old daughter slips out the side door in a backless red dress that's about one bad decision away from going viral. She doesn't even glance around. Just floats out like she's heading somewhere more important.

I wouldn't have paid her any attention… except for the tall, quiet figure trailing behind her. It’s Danner.

His posture is casual, but his eyes are locked on her like a heat-seeking missile. The sight throws me off.What the hell?I mentally flag it. But before I can deal with that particular wildfire, a hand grips my arm.

"Come with me," Anny says.

It's not a suggestion.

I let out a huff and decide that laying the mayor out on his back isn't the kind of press I need. Instead, I follow Anny. I let her pull me through the double doors and into the warm hush of the hallway behind the ballroom.

The second the door swings shut, I feel everything. All the anger. The fight. The old Kingridge pride still boils just beneath the surface. Every muscle in my body clenches with anger.

"I was fine," I say, pacing like a caged bull.

"You were about to redecorate the mayor's face with your fists."

"He earned it."

"And what would that prove?" she asks, voice low but firm. "That he's right? That we're just a bunch of hot-headed cowboys who solve everything with punches and property lines?"

Anny steps in front of me, placing both hands on my chest. The contact is unexpected. It's hot and grounding. She stops me in my tracks. I stare down at her, my chest heaving. She's so close I can feel the heat of her body through the thin fabric of my shirt.

"You don't get it," I say quietly. "This land is everything. He touches it, he touches us."

"I do get it," she says. "I work it every damn day. But if you throw a punch, you lose control. And if he wins, we all lose."

She's right. I hate that she's right. But I love that she's the one pulling me back from the edge.

"You've changed," I murmur.

Her brows lift, and she lets out a giggle. "Don't worry, everyone in that room knows you can take him."

I brush a stray strand of hair from her cheek. Her breath catches and we stand there in the stillness. The music behind the walls is muffled and our breath is the only sound between us. Anny's eyes flick to my mouth. My fingers brush her waist in response. She doesn't pull away... Neither do I.

There's a pull between us. It's hot, electric, and impossible to ignore. Her lips part. Her fingers tighten in the fabric of my shirt.

My voice is a low whisper. "Every time I look at you, I remember who I want to be."

"Fallon..." she says, barely above a breath.

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