Page 137 of Roulette Rodeo
The blush that floods my face is instant and consuming. I can feel it spreading down my neck, across my chest, probably turning me the color of my namesake.
"I wasn't expecting you to be so...well, direct."
Which I’m becoming to really enjoy.
The smirk that spreads across his face is pure masculine satisfaction.
"Most people think I'm pretty shy and closed off, which leads to people wondering how I fit the dynamic of the group." He shifts me slightly on his lap, and I can feel evidence that he wasn't joking about potential hard-ons. "But I'm a lot more assertive than I project. It's a good playing card, letting people underestimate you."
His hand comes up to brush a strand of hair behind my ear, the gesture tender despite the heat in his eyes.
"If you ever feel overwhelmed, just find me. If I'm not home and I'm at the clinic, call me. I'll always answer."
"But you might be with patients?—"
He cuts me off with a shake of his head.
"At the end of the day, you're our omega. Our world. Our priority. Everything else is on standby when it comes to you."
The confidence in his words, the certainty that I matter that much, makes my chest tight with emotion I'm not ready to examine.
"For fake cowboys," I say, deflecting with humor, "you guys sure are romantic."
His smile grows, eyebrow arching in amusement.
"Who said we were fake?"
I pout, tilting my head in confusion.
"What do you mean? Isn't the whole cowboy thing a facade? Part of your cover here?"
His laugh is rich and genuine, the kind that makes his whole body shake and, consequently, makes me bounce slightly on his lap.
"Actually, no. We're all from smaller towns across America. Real ranch towns with real ranches." He grins at my obvious shock. "In fact, Talon and Rafe have known each other since childhood. They were best friends with Luca, and all their family lines own ranches. Generations of cattle and horses and all that Americana you probably think we're faking."
My jaw literally drops.
"WHAT?" I practically shriek. "It's not a gimmick? Like, you're not just playing cowboys under the radar?"
He shakes his head, still grinning at my reaction.
"No, little cherry. We're actually legit. Born and raised on ranches, taking care of animals both tame and wild, living in towns where everyone knows everyone and your business is everybody's business."
He shifts slightly, getting more comfortable with me still perched on his lap like I belong there.
"We all eventually decided there was more out there. At least enough to get out and see where our paths would lead. How we all got into our different lines of 'work'—" he uses air quotes, "—is more of the mystery than the cowboy thing. But yeah, we're legit. I can rope a calf, brand cattle, break a horse if needed. Though I prefer healing to breaking these days."
I'm completely stunned.
This whole time I thought the cowboy aesthetic was just convenient cover, a way to blend into this remote town.
But they're actual cowboys who became... what? Mob doctor, underground fighter, military special ops, and whatever Rafe's mob prince background entails?
"That's..." I trail off, trying to process. "That's actually weirder than if you were faking it."
He laughs again, and I realize I love making him laugh.
He's usually so controlled, so careful for the instaces I’ve observed him, but when he laughs it's like seeing behind a curtain to the real person.
