Page 143 of Knot Your Problem, Cowboy
“Help me get him out,” Ridge snarls at Walker. “Now. Before Ifinish what you started.”
Together, the pair drag Ronan out by his arms, his protests cut short when Ridge’s hand closes around his throat. I hear them in the hallway, their threats low and vicious.
“We mean it. You come near her again, you’re dead,” Ridge snaps.
“This was your last mistake, Ronan. Your very last,” Walker warns. “You think you’ve won with your lawsuit? We’ll bury you.”
Cash lifts me into his arms like I weigh nothing, carrying me away from the bathroom. My room feels safe again with him here, his scent engulfing me.
“I’ve got you,” Cash murmurs, settling me on the bed while keeping me wrapped tightly in the towel like he can hold me together if I start to fall apart. “You’re safe. We’re here now. We’re never leaving you alone again.”
I clutch at his shirt like I could crawl inside his chest and hide there, my face pressed against his throat, breathing him in. His scent is a lifeline, steadying me against the storm inside, the fear from what just happened, the humiliation of being found like that, and the unbearable heat pulsing low and deep.
“He’s never coming near you again,” Cash says, voice vibrating against my cheek. “Ridge and Walker are making sure of that. And if he tries, if he even thinks about it, we’ll end him.”
The memory of Ronan, his hands on my bathroomdoor, his voice, the invasive way he looked at me leaves me feeling sick. I whimper, the sound small but needy, because even with the fear still fresh, the heat is crawling back in, dragging every nerve toward desperation.
“Cash, I need… please, I can’t?—”
“I know, sugar.” He cups the back of my head, pressing a kiss to my hair. “We’re going to take care of you. All of us. You’re not alone. Never alone again.”
The slam of the front door is so loud that the bed frame vibrates. Heavy boots pound up the stairs. Walker and Ridge appear in the doorway, both with bloody knuckles, their chests rising fast. Walker’s shirt is streaked with blood, Ridge’s is clinging to his chest with sweat, and both of them look like they’d happily finish what they started.
“He’s gone,” Walker says flatly. “Thrown off the property with a promise of worse if he comes back. Might have a few broken ribs. Definitely a broken nose.”
“Should’ve killed him,” Ridge mutters darkly, flexing his injured hand. But his gaze flicks to me, to the way I’m pressed into Cash, the Omega scent no doubt heavy in the room. The shift in him is instant. “Should’ve ended him for even looking at you.”
“Later,” Cash says, his voice low but firm. “Sophia needs us right now.”
They don’t come to me immediately. Instead, they head for the bathroom, the sound of the sink runningfilling the room as they scrub their arms and face. I see them in there, shirts being pulled over heads, boots hitting the tile. Broad shoulders rolling, chests bare, muscles shifting under sun-darkened skin. A faint trail of hair runs down from Ridge’s chest, disappearing into the low waistband of his jeans, and my mouth goes dry. Walker’s chest is a solid wall of muscle, a small scar bisecting his left pec.
My fingers twitch with the need to touch, to feel that heat under my palms.
They return a moment later, knuckles cleaned, the faint scent of soap clinging to them under the sharper bite of their hypnotic scents. Ridge kneels beside the bed, his rough hand finding mine and threading our fingers together. Walker takes the other side, his bloody knuckles now cool against my cheek as he brushes my hair back.
“We’ve got you,” Walker murmurs, pressing a kiss to my forehead.
“Always,” Ridge adds, his thumb stroking across the back of my hand.
“Forever,” Cash promises against my temple, then pulls back and rips off his shirt and kicks off his boots, my gaze locked on that toned chest, the light dusting of hair, and I’m squeezing my thighs.
The heat flares so hard that it’s almost pain, and my eyes sting with everything—the shock, the relief, the want. My gaze sweeps over their bare chests again before I can stop it, my body moving without thoughtas I reach out, my fingertips brushing over Ridge’s sternum, then skimming the hard plane of Walker’s ribs.
“Please,” I whimper, my voice wrecked.
“We know, darlin’,” Walker whispers, already leaning in, the promise of what’s coming burning in his eyes. “We’re going to take such good care of you.”
27
SOPHIA
The air in my bedroom is thick with need, heavy like the moments before a thunderstorm. My three cowboys stand before me, shirtless in just their jeans, and the sight is mesmerizing. The sunlight streaming through the windows turns their skin golden, highlighting every muscle.
Ridge’s auburn hair falls across his shoulders, his green eyes dark with promise. Walker’s chest rises and falls steadily, but I spot the tension in his jaw, the way his hands flex at his sides. Cash leans against my dresser, trying for casual, but the bulge in his jeans and the way his eyes track my every movement betray his need.
The heat is consuming me from the inside out, each wave stronger than the last. My skin feels too tight, too hot, like I might burst from the pressurebuilding inside me. The towel wrapped around me is damp with sweat, clinging to my overheated skin.
“Please,” I whisper, breaking on the single word. “I need… God, I need…”
