Page 121 of Knot Your Problem, Cowboy
“That’s the spirit,” June says, raising her fork like it’s a glass of champagne. “To taking control.”
I tap mine against hers. “To taking control.”
And for the first time all day, I feel a flicker of steadiness under my ribs. With a friend like June in my corner, I might just be okay.
Even if it means I’ll have to murder a few more pillows along the way.
22
CASH
The front door finally closes behind the Carson family, and I slump against it like I’ve just survived a stampede. Two hours. Two fucking hours of Brittany draped over me like a cheap blanket while her father dropped hints about buying our land for his latest development scheme.
“Well, that was painful to watch,” Walker says, grinning. “How’s it feel being the sacrificial lamb?”
“Like I need a damn shower and a priest,” I mutter, heading for the kitchen and the whiskey I know Ridge keeps hidden behind the flour.
“Brittany did seem extra handsy today,” Walker observes, following me in. “What was that thing she did with your belt buckle?”
“Don’t remind me.” I pour three fingers of whiskey, then think better of it and add another. “The woman has octopus tendencies. I swear she grew extraarms just to grope me better. I feel fucking dirty after that.”
Walker laughs, stealing my glass before I can drink. “Come on, it wasn’t that bad. You maintained business relations with our biggest horse buyers. Carson’s operation in Texas alone accounts for thirty percent of our sales.”
“Doesn’t mean I have to like his daughter climbing me like a tree.” I pour another glass, guarding it from Walker’s grabby hands as Ridge stalkers closer, so I collect a glass for him as well. “Besides, you two weren’t exactly helping. Just stood there chatting about feed prices while she practically marked me with her perfume.”
I’m leaning against the counter with a glass of whiskey I hand to Ridge, then start to pour my own.
He swirls his glass like he’s got all the time in the world. Then takes a sip before saying, “Sophia’s upstairs.”
Walker glances over his shoulder. “Upstairs… doing what?”
Ridge takes another drink, lets the pause drag. “Sleeping. In my bed.”
I stop mid-pour. “The hell she is.”
“Oh, she is,” Ridge says easily. “But before you get your hearts in a twist, you should know, this morning, she damn near drowned in the river by the goats’ pen.”
That rips my attention clean away from the smug grin. “What?”
“Fell in the river. Harold knocked her in. Current took her under.” His jaw ticks, and for a moment, that cocky glint is gone. “Scared the hell out of me. Thought I’d lost her before I even had her.”
My heart is thundering to just be hearing about this. “And you didn’t fucking tell us this earlier, why?”
“Didn’t exactly get a chance when we had the Carsons pop over unexpectedly.”
“And you pulled her out?” Walker butts in.
“Dragged her out as she was choking for breath,” Ridge says. “Got her inside, warmed her up. We talked. She was still shaking, still looking at me like I was the only thing holding her here. And then…”
He tips an invisible hat, grin sliding back into place. “She told me what she wanted. She made it real clear. And I’m a cowboy who answers an Omega’s call.”
Walker narrows his eyes. “You telling me you fucked her?”
Ridge leans in. “Not just fucked her. I knotted her. And Christ Almighty, she was perfect. Tight, dripping, screaming my name like she’d been waiting her whole damn life for it.”
My grip tightens on my glass. “Years you’ve been pining, and you go and?—”
“When she bent over in bed—fuck—it took everything I had not to lose it right there. Watching her take me, knowing I was filling her so deep she wouldn’t forget me if she tried…” He shakes his head like he’s reliving it.
