Page 28 of Cowboy Breaking Point

ChapterSix

Dove found the back door and slipped outside into the cool air. The garden resembled an overgrown forest in a fairytale, and it was raining, but it was the perfect place to hide for a minute to compose herself.

She was exhausted. Years of being there for her sister had only taught Rain to rely on her rather than figuring things out for herself. Dove had screwed up. Now she was sitting at the bottom of a well with no idea how to pull herself out. She was so tired of being the responsible one, the only one who worried about anything serious or important.

Those small escapes with Quaide were one of the only things she ever did for herself. Now that was all screwed up too. If she didn’t know where she stood with him before, she definitely didn’t now.

She sucked in deep breath after deep breath. With each step she paced, the spongy turf pushed up water around her boots.

Getting away for a minute wasn’t helping. That panic in her chest wasn’t subsiding.

Now she was breathing too fast.

She didn’t have time for hyperventilating fits. She needed…

A paper bag to breathe into.

She needed to get her crap together.

Pulling out her phone, she located her note app. If she didn’t get some of this weight off her chest, she’d burst into awful tears.

Bringing the phone back to her lips, she began to stammer out words. “I need coffee. I didn’t even get my coffee this morning. And my SUV blew up. I loved that thing. It was my very first new vehicle, and I bought it when I got my very first raise.”

Water dripped off the eaves of the big old house, creating puddles on the ground that she paced through.

She hit the record button again. “Contact insurance company explaining that my vehicle blew up. File a police report, too. Or does the FBI handle this? Ask Quaide. He’s such a fixer and he goes by the book on everything. And Rain! She hasn’t grasped or cared about anything serious in the past six weeks! I’m never going to have my own life, am I?” Her voice gave a horrible wobble.

She couldnotbreak down.

She strode to the other end of the garden where a wooden bench was almost completely obliterated by vines. Her mind bounced between her family problems and back to her forbidden lover. Just being in his presence made her senses go haywire and amped up her libido. With everything that was going on, would they even have a chance to talk things through let alone connect?

“Can I evenhandlebeing this close to Quaide?”

Whipping around to pace in the other direction, she stopped dead, suddenly face-to-face with the guy she was talking about.

The one she never got over.

Quaide’s fists were clenched at his sides, rain darkening his hair further.

Heat burned in her stomach. How many times had she ached for this very moment when she’d see him again?

Now she was seven shades of humiliated to even face him.

He dragged his eyes over her hair and face, working slowly down her body. Having him look at her this way made her wish the ground would open up and swallow her. She looked horrible. Not even the blue sweater he favored could save her sallow expression or help him overlook the bags beneath her eyes.

Quaide took a step toward her. “Dove. What are you doing?”

A thick lump clogged her throat. “I’m journaling. I worked with the FBI, remember? I have to document this stuff.”

“In a voice recording? On your phone? Honey, you know better. Anyone could get a hold of that.” He closed the gap between them.

Of course he was lecturing her on sticking to the rules, but didn’t he see that she really, really needed this as an outlet before she blew up?

On the flip side, she just wanted to step into his embrace and take strength from his arms.

“Exactly how long is the journal, Dove?”

“A hundred…eighty…pages.”

---