Page 29 of The Runaway and the Rugged
Easier said than done.
“Okay,” I mumbled under my breath, bracing myself for another awkward movement I was hardly equipped to handle.
“Let go of the reins and I’ll steady you,” he reached both arms around me and took a hold of the reins. Not only were his legs securing me in place, but I now had the additional comfort of his arms.
I then carefully lifted my leg while attempting to hold my dress in place. It wasn’t easy, as each sudden maneuver the fabric insisted on rising. Luckily, with the cautious swivel of my butt and gentle shove from Garth, I had successfully guided my leg onto the other side.
It took me a second to readjust, smoothing out the bottom of my dress, finding a comfortable position, and giving Garth enough space between my shoulder and his brawny chest.
I thought we were close before, now I couldn’t even breathe without him seeing the expression on my face.
“Better?” he asked.
Was I more comfortable? Yes. But was this better? Not exactly.
“Yes, thank you,” I lied, putting my best smile forward.
With my eyes trained ahead, I noticed that Garth was still holding my heels. The strap of the reins and the straps of my heels dangled from his thick fingers and laid down the side of Ella.
“I can hold those now.” I nodded toward my shoes, afraid to lift my hands from the safety of my lap.
I wasn’t going to risk the chance of falling off.
“I got ’em, Outlaw. Just sit back and enjoy the ride.”
My heart thundered, then with a swift jerk on the reins, we were off in a blur of motion.
9
GARTH
Emelia smelled good.
Let me clarify, Emelia smelled too fuckin’ good and I couldn’t stop myself from subtly leaning in closer to get a better sniff. Even after walking beneath the scorching Texas sun, she smelled better than anything I’d ever come across.
Like a sun-kissed breeze.
And I hated that I was affected by it. By her smell, her defiance, her everything. She was simply too good to be true. All the more reason to get her back safely and off this ranch before she caused me any more trouble.
The woman was still in her wedding dress, for fuck’s sake. Her emotions were all over the place.
“Your sister is going to hate me,” she mumbled, her eyes vacant and expressionless as we swayed from side to side.
“If my sister hates anyone, it’s Beau.” I tried to lighten the mood, but she gave no reaction. “She won’t hate you. Trust me, she’ll understand more than you think she will.”
Greta’s choice in men was always disastrous, often leading to heartbreak in which either myself or our mom had to pick up the pieces. She was one of the strongest, most sharp-witted womenI’d ever known, but when it came to selectin’ a partner, she was absolute shit at it.
“She and Clarke might be the only ones then.”
There’s that name again, Clarke.
Who the hell is Clarke?
“And Clarke is?” I asked, guiding Ella to the right.
“My best friend,” she responded. “My best friend who also warned me not to get married,” she clarified.
“You tryin’ to be hard on yourself again, Outlaw?” My stare dropped to her bare, creamy shoulder. Strands of copper hair mixed in with a spattering of freckles partially covered her skin.
