Page 33 of Saddled in Secrets
My gaze feasts on hers, blue searching green for a truth she probably won’t admit. “Would that be so terrible?”
Not that she has much of a choice. The hitch in her breath sounds like surrender. “We should go.”
I couldn’t agree more. It’s about damn time Bianca’s fine ass breaks in the spot next to mine. My gaze moves from her to the truck. “What’re you waiting for, Princess?”
Her legs shift awkwardly. “Where’s the foot thingie?”
“There aren’t any.”
“How do you expect me to get in? We aren’t all built like Viking giants.” Her eyes rove over our drastic difference in height. “I’ll pop my hip out of the socket trying.”
A chuckle threatens to rattle me. The visual of her scrambling to climb in is entertaining. Add in the fact that she’s too proud to ask for a lift and I damn near double over. But I’d never put her in a situation to get hurt.
In a fluid motion, I scoop Bianca off her feet. She’s buckled in right where she belongs before a complaint can escape hermouth. A smirk tugs at my own while I return to my side and get behind the wheel.
A crank of the key in the ignition has Fern rumbling to life. That purr is such a sexy sound, only overshadowed by any noise the woman next to me makes.
“Hear that?” I glance at her while shifting into drive.
“She doesn’t sound angry anymore.”
“You remember.” Fuck, that does something to me. I focus on the minimal effort it takes my truck to pull ahead with her loaded trailer attached. “And you were worried. Never doubt classic American muscle.”
“Do trucks fall under that category?” She taps her chin, lips puckered to one side.
If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was teasing me. “Google it.”
“Maybe I will since I actually have the option.” She whips the device from her pocket like it’s a weapon to use against me.
Which is true in a sense. The reminder that Brody gave me an order to confiscate her phone in Germany—allowing her to believe it was stolen—is a dark cloud above me. I might never escape the gloom. Bianca notices the clench in my jaw.
“Awwww,” she croons. “Did I ruin the moment?”
I tighten my hand on the steering wheel. Such a brat. But it’ll be me destroying what little peace there is between us.
The pickup rolls to a stop at the main gate. “Ready to leave?”
“Almost,” she chirps.
And then the rodeo princess proceeds to build her bubble of chaos. A hands-free phone mount gets stuck to the dash. There’s already a cooking show playing on the screen. Subtitles scroll along at a rate I couldn’t follow if I used my full concentration.
With that step complete, Bianca taps at her iPad and slides AirPods into her ears. There’s undoubtedly a romance audiobook picked and prepped to turn her on. Last, but certainlynot least, is the yarn bag. Whatever crochet project she’s currently working on is now bundled on her lap. It’s probably another set of horse earmuffs. Winter is coming after all.
Bianca’s fingers begin moving at lightning speed while I try to process this madness. I’ve observed her multitasking methods on countless occasions over the years and it still fascinates me. My brain just doesn’t work like that. It’s only when she motions for me to get a move on that I realize we’re still idling in the driveway. Go fucking figure—she caught me staring again.
I shake off the stupor and ease on the gas. Fern glides forward, rumbling her enthusiasm. At least this journey will be smooth for one of us. The road ahead is paved, but it’s about to get rocky.
That kicks my pulse into a trot, mimicking the thump from the tires eating miles. It’s too damn quiet. My thoughts are spinning in a whirlwind faster than the overstimulating mayhem beside me. I turn on the radio to fill the void.
“A Lot More Free” by Max McNown streams from the speakers. It’s one of Bianca’s favorite songs. I almost tap her on the shoulder, but then notice her head is bobbing to the beat. She’s mouthing the words too. This woman’s attention span doesn’t have a limit.
Which is why she doesn’t miss what happens next. Her narrowed gaze scans the landscape. She turns in her seat to get the full picture and then rips the pods from her ears.
“You missed the exit, Cowboy.”
“Did I?”
“Yes,” she confirms while gesturing at the window. “Zumbrota is that way.”
