Page 136 of Scent to the Feral Cowboys
“Like you won’t hurt me,” I challenged, wanting to look formidable, but instead fighting tears from my eyes. “You all already did that when you signed with Eros.”
“None of us knew how they’d treat you, Nelly. Believe that, or don’t believe that, but it’s the honest-to-God truth.” His eyes seemed to gaze deep into me, piercing places he wasn’t allowed.
“Don’t look at me that way,” I grumbled, averting my gaze.
“What way?” He asked, sounding genuinely curious.
“Like if I’d just give you and your pack a chance, I’d be safe forever. I’d never be hurt again. Never lose anyone or anything again.” A stupid, hot tear began to race down my cheek. I swiped it away angrily. “Looking at me that way is a lie.”
“You got a lot of hurt inside you,” he said slowly. “Nothing’s ever going to be truly good if you don’t let out the poison, Nelly. Everyone’s faced loss, pain, setbacks. Every single person on Earth. People who can’t let it go only end up self-inflicting fresh damage.”
“You’ve no idea what I’ve been through,” I said, and even to myself I sounded like a petulant child.
“You’re right on that account,” he nodded, “but the reverse is true, you know. You know as little about us as we know about you. You don’t know our past. Our own brand of hurting. You don’t know how long we’ve struggled, putting on fronts so othersdon’t worry. Take Boone, for example.” Wade shoved his hands into his pockets and began strolling away.
Take Boone for what? Why mention one of his pack brothers and then not explain?
Was I supposed to follow him? Would he care if I didn’t?
A rustling in the pasture behind me made me turn. The giant, mother-to-be had ambled closer to the fence, as if she were reluctant to let Wade leave. She pushed her face through the fence’s gap and brushed my arm. Even though I knew the animal wouldn’t hurt me, I startled away from it and padded after Wade, quickly covering the distance to him. Once there, I took a deep breath, falling in step behind him.
Jesus, he was tall, with shoulders so broad that he blocked out where we were heading. I could move to the side to see around him, but there was something about walking in his shadow that… almost felt safe.
I frowned when the day darkened and the sun that had been peeking out vanished. It made that safe darkness behind Wade nearly nonexistent. I shouldn’t be surprised. Wasn’t I used to temporary sanctuaries by now?
31
NELLY
The rain started up again, this time falling with increased purpose.
I moved from behind Wade’s tall body and walked a little faster. He matched my speed, keeping slightly ahead as he guided me towards our next location—which seemed to be a large barn type structure. I was glad for the jacket’s protection, but a fresh wave of guilt had me looking at Wade and the way his clothes were quickly soaking through.
Soaking through to show hints of tattoo and muscles.
I licked my lips involuntarily, spying his hardened nipples pushing against the white shirt.
Get ahold of yourself, woman!
Droplets rapidly patted against the brim of the cowboy hat. I wanted to ask what he meant about Boone, but there must be a reason why Wade didn’t elaborate. I held back my questions, trying not to spiral over all the possibilities. I kept my curiosity at bay until the sound of the rain, the patterned crunch of our footsteps, and the silence that seemed wedged between us started feeling worse than just asking.
"What did you mean about Boone?" The question slipped out easily, as if my subconscious had already known I couldn’t hold out.
Wade glanced back at me. “Ah, well, that’s his story to tell.”
“Then you shouldn’t have mentioned it,” I snapped icily. I looked up at the sky, tipping the hat enough for rain to splatter my cheek, and I sighed. “I didn’t mean that to sound so bitchy.”
“No, you’re right. I probably shouldn’t have, but his kind of pain is relevant to our situation. He had a—” Wade abruptly stopped speaking, maybe realizing he was saying too much.
I waited, hoping he’d give me a crumb more, but this time my patience snapped in seconds. “He had what?”
Wade sighed. “You know, I’m usually better at keeping my mouth shut and minding my own business.”
I felt a flash of guilt for pushing him. “He had… an Alpaca,” I jokingly guessed, trying to absolve myself.
“Not exactly,” Wade smiled.
“He had… a purple motorcycle with a sidecar.”
