Page 11 of Ride Me Reckless

Page List

Font Size:

I cleared my throat, shifting in my seat. “Nothin’. Just... wasn’t sure you’d say yes.”

She gave a half smile and looked out the window. “Me neither.”

And just like that, we pulled away from the curb, the past riding quiet between us.

She glanced around the cab—black leather seats, touchscreen console, that new-truck smell still clinging to everything like pride—and I caught the way her brow lifted just a tick.

"Fancy," she said, buckling her seatbelt. "This yours?"

I tapped the wheel. "Sure is."

She didn't say anything for a second. Just looked straight ahead as I pulled away from the curb. Her profile was the same—sharp jaw, lashes too long, a mouth that always looked like it was about to say something sassy.

"Does it come with a butler?" she asked lightly, voice teasing.

"Nope. Still make my own coffee."

"Huh. And here I thought you were just a simple cowboy."

I didn't bite. Just let the road unroll in front of us while I tried not to grip the wheel like it had wronged me.

About a mile down, I cleared my throat. "There's somethin' you oughta know."

That got her attention. She angled toward me slightly, the seatbelt creaking with the shift.

"Okay…"

I adjusted my grip. "Me, Rhett, Easton, and Sawyer—we hit the Powerball."

She blinked. "Like… The Powerball?"

I nodded once.

She leaned back in the seat. "Damn."

"That about sums it up."

A pause. Then her lips quirked. "Guess I missed the luck train by about five years, huh?"

I smirked, but my eyes stayed on the road. "You always said I'd be boring forever."

She chuckled under her breath. "Still might be. Depends on what you've done with it."

"Built Lucky Ranch."

That earned a full turn of her head. "Wait—youbuiltit?"

"Yep. All four of us. Bought the land together and carved it up. Each of us has a house, barns, equipment, enough acreage to breathe without hearin' your neighbor sneeze."

Her brow rose. "That's… not nothing."

"No, it's not." I glanced over at her. "Last time you saw me, I was livin' in a tin can with a busted grill and a lawn full of regrets."

"Don't forget the crooked fence."

I laughed. "Never could get that thing straight."

She was smiling now, but there was something behind it. A flicker. Like she was trying to decide if I'd really changed, or if this was just a new coat of paint on the same worn-out wood.