Page 31 of Breaking the Cowboy's Rules

He wasn’t going to get his, but he was damn well going to ensure that Ash and Beck had theirs. Who knew, maybe even Bowen would find his.

The Rodeo Bride Game was funny as hell. He could feel his lips curve even as he thought of Bowen actually talking to a woman long enough to set the game in play. And then spending a week courting a woman? No way would she not fall in love with his soft-spoken, steady cousin. He was a good man with a true heart. Dedicated to family and the land. Bodhi couldn’t imagine Bowen without Three Trees.

With the sky awash with stars and planets and the meteor shower showing off, and a woman nestled near, Bodhi felt like everything might…just might work out, maybe even for all of them.

Another star skidded across his aching field of vision then disappeared into the black.

“I wish,” he whispered, picturing Granddad in the kitchen at the farmhouse table drinking coffee, him finding a game on TV, Beck and Ashni in the kitchen cooking something exotic from some country they always said they’d visit someday, and Bowen at the table discussing ranch business with a woman next to him, her fingers easing the tension he always held in his neck.

The Rodeo Bride Game had been a spontaneous, Hail Mary pass attempting to navigate them all through the dangerous turmoil between Scylla and Charybdis. But maybe like Odysseus, the three of them would navigate this disaster and find sunshine and safety on the other side.

Home.

He let his fingers play in Nico’s stunning hair. It had been nearly impossible to not indulge tonight. Her hair was so vibrant—like the woman when she wasn’t dampening her spirit. If she were his, he’d ensure that she always felt safe, desired, able to speak her mind without censure. He would love that she would challenge him at so many turns.

Meeting Nico was as unexpected as it was intriguing and made him want to play for real. Why should Beck have everything his way? Flirting with Nico at Grey’s, their verbal games, her earnest explanation of improv, teaching her the two-step, the focus she had when learning to skip stones was a heady brew that had him drunk just on the fumes.

He even loved how cute and clumsy she’d been when shooting whiskey.

Adorable as hell. But she was also sophisticated at the same time she was down-to-earth. She’d climbed in the back of his truck gracefully and seemed at home, but he could easily imagine her in the back of a limo, sparkling jewels, couture dress. A fascinating contradiction and his for the week.

He closed his eyes and let his mind drift and his body feel Nico’s soft, fragrant warmth and the breaths she took. She soothed him even as she piqued his curiosity. And the chemistry was off the charts. He’d had sex with a lot of women, but he’d held surprisingly few. His adventures tended to be spontaneous, intense and, for the giggling women, unexpectedly sexy-dirty and memorable. He wanted to pleasure them, find a release for himself and then make a quick escape.

But a week with Nico unspooled in front of him like a long-anticipated treat. No quick exit. He wanted to show her the ranch, the special places that made him feel like he was home, watch the parade down Marietta’s Main Street, know that she was watching him compete at the rodeo, dance with her at the steak dinner, introduce her to Granddad, watch her make Granddad’s eyes light up with humor, hear him laugh, and see the shadows that lurked in her eyes dissipate in the magic and contentment that Bodhi had always felt when he was home in Marietta and working on the ranch.

There was so much to see and do this week. Tonight was only the beginning, and for the first time in a year, Bodhi found himself drifting in and out of consciousness, relaxed and anticipating the future.

Just as the last vestige of tension left his body, Nico hurtled out of his arms, and screamed as if she were being torn apart by wild dogs.

*

“Blood! Blood. Ican’t breathe…I can’t…” She tried to jump, to run, to escape, but she was tangled in something. Held down. Vengeful spirits finally dragging her to hell where she belonged.

But unlike all the other nightmares, this time someone was there, holding her to keep her skin from peeling off her body.

“You’re okay, you’re safe,” the voice soothed her. “I got you. There’s no blood. No danger. You’re safe.”

She could barely hear him over her thundering heart and racing blood that torched through her body. She wasn’t safe. She would never be safe again. But the voice was so deep and calm like a river in a forest she reached for it, wanting the voice to wrap her up, wanting the words to be true.

She gasped, clutching her throat, trying to draw in air where there was none.

“You’re okay,” the voice told her again. “You’re okay. You’re good.”

She wasn’t good. She was trapped. She was…a strong hand smoothed down her back, while another one held down her head. At first, she tried to fight, but she had no strength left.

“Just breathe. Breathe in the night. Let’s count,” he said. “Breathe through your nose for four.” He counted out the numbers. “Hold for four.” Again he counted. His voice was so calm. So casually strong, and she clung to it just as she clutched the iron-hard arm she was bent over. He continued to count and breathe with her, and the blood and the screaming faded.

Bodhi. Montana. Back of his truck at a lake. She’d fallen asleep. Not. Good.

God. He must think she was crazy.

Not the first person.

But he didn’t have any power over her although Bodhi was probably more trustworthy than her parents and her extended family had ever been. And far kinder.

“Sorry,” she whispered. “Sorry.”

What could she say? How could she get out of here with a shred of dignity? The Rodeo Bride Game she’d been looking forward to, the chance to practice a new identity, experience a new life—well, that opportunity was over now.

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