Page 41 of A Reckless Memory

Heat soaked my hand as she rode me.

“You’re so beautiful when you come.” I grabbed a fistful of her hair and tipped her head back. Her moans grew louder as I nibbled along her collarbone. “Come for me. Let me feel you explode.”

“Ansen!” Her movements were erratic, and her body had a hold on my fingers that would’ve choked my dick, and I fucking loved it. Then she went rigid and rolled her hips. Her mouth was open and her eyes were closed.

Heat flooded my hand. So fucking perfect.

When she went limp, she opened her gorgeous hazel eyes. Vulnerability shone in them, and that wouldn’t do. She needed to know she was safe with me. I failed her before. I wouldn’t again. I’d figure it out.

I withdrew my hand, hating to leave her warm body, and brought my finger to my mouth. She tracked me with those shining eyes as I sucked my fingertip into my mouth like a promise of what I’d do to her clit when I got these clothes off.

“Mm,” I said, taking in her riveted expression. “I missed the taste of you, baby.”

She blinked. One slow drop of her eyelids and then an entirely different Aggie peered back at me. She pushed off, stumbling against the table and chair.

I could steady her around the thighs, but she spun out of my grip. “I have to go.” She made a wide arc around me and darted for the living room toward the front door.

“Aggie.”

“I can’t do this again, Ansen.”

“Why not?” I knew I broke us, but I needed to know where to start the repairs.

She yanked her coat off the hook but didn’t bother to put it on. “I don’t trust you.”

Fuck, I hadn’t earned it with her yet. The frustration was all mine, because of me, but I refused to give up. “I’m working on it, Aggie—but damn it. There was more between us than that damn money.”

She hugged her coat to her chest. Her expression was scared and determined. “I worked for what I have. I know I got Mama’s money, but she gave it to me so I could have my freedom. I’m not giving it up for a guy.”

“I’d never ask you to.” I ran a hand through my hair. My pesky erection was starting to flag, but physical pain was getting replaced with emotional torment. I couldn’t cross to her, comfort her, or she’d gallop out the door.

She put her hand on the doorknob. “The thing is, you wouldn’t have to ask. Last time, I was ready to ride along with you and let you make all the decisions. How long before that would happen again?”

“What the hell, Ags? I’m not like that.”

She gave me a look like she knew better. “Gustafson should’ve known you’d never marry his daughter because you would’ve been tied to a place that wasn’t yours. He should’ve looked at how often you’ve moved and changed jobs and realized that nothing would ever be enough.”

I ground my teeth together. “It’s not like that.” Or maybe it was exactly like that—and maybe that was how all my relationships had been. I had goals, and the places and people I’d been around didn’t line up with them.

“Did you know the ranch was Mama’s? Her grandparents left it to her, and she married Daddy. Soon it was Barnaby’s ranch. Barnaby’s cattle. Barnaby’s Arabians. She lost more control each year they were together and with each baby she had.” She let out a scornful laugh when she noticed my confusion. “He plays off like he worked for it, and I guess he did. It was nothing but emptiness and cattle before him. Then with you—I dreamed of having four or five kids and being your partner. I ignored Mama’s warnings even though they were still ringing in my ears long after she died. And when I found out why you were marrying me, I realized I wouldn’t have been your partner. It would’ve been Ansen’s training business. Ansen’s house. Ansen’s everything. And I would’ve been just like Mama.”

“I’m not like your dad,” I gritted out between clenched teeth. We would’ve been equals. Yet...I couldn’t deny what she was saying. All our plans had been mine.

“But maybe I’m like Mama.” She opened the door and a gust of cold air snuck around the screen door. “You asked why I was still single, and I gave you half an answer. The full truth is every guy I dated after you eventually grew to hate that I was in control of my assets. That I had significant power in the relationship. Do you think maybe you want something of your own because you’re just another guy who can’t stand not to have control over their partner?”

With that, she was gone, shutting the door behind her and leaving me with no real answer to her question.

Eight

AGGIE

I pulled up to my childhood home. After the weekend, I should have been relieved to get away—away from watching Ansen do chores and work with the horses while wondering what he thought of our parting conversation.

The finality of it left a haunted emptiness inside me. I’d said what I wanted to say after all these years. It wasn’t that he’d hurt me. It wasn’t that he’d shattered my self-confidence when he needed money to ask me out. It was that I saw what our marriage really would’ve been, and I was never falling for it again.

Instead of the vise around my stomach loosening, it grew tighter as I stared at the rambling log house I was raised in. I had thought growing up was the best years of my life. I was good at ignoring how miserable my brothers were. How much they hated Mama for leaving. The way Daddy’s overbearing nature suffocated all of us. I’d been distanced from some of it thanks to being relegated to stock.

Now I was back, and I wanted to swing the pickup around and go home. The only thing stopping me was the thought of finding items left on my doorstep like they had been all week.

---