Rope the Moon (Runaway Ranch, #2)(36)

I wish Davis knew how long I’ve been all alone, missing him.

Tonight, I want to be kissed by a man who feels like home. I want comfort. I want Davis Montgomery.

Forcing away my restless thoughts, I rub in the remainder of the lotion, then flip the cap closed. “Still got it,” I say with a wry smile. “Even one-handed.”

“Your secrets.” Davis’s sudden growl eats up the dark. “I want them, Koty.”

Secrets.

That was our game. How I got him to open up all those years ago when he stomped into Resurrection shot up and scowling. A game I borrowed from when Fallon and I were kids. Late at night, we’d lie in bed and tell each other secrets. Mostly lies, some truths, but we’d come up with the craziest stories. Sometimes I still don’t know fact from fiction.

“It’s too late for secrets,” I whisper.

He grabs my hand before I can step away. Wide-eyed, I watch as he rises to his feet like some massive sentry. This time, he looks at me dead on. His brown eyes blaze. “Tell me his name, Dakota.”

“No,” I refuse.

Never.

The muscle jerking in his jaw tells me he’s pissed as hell. Still, I dig in my heels.

“He’s a ghost. The day I left town, I forgot his name.”

“Tell me his name,” he demands again.

“No. The memory of him burned up in my bakery.”

Just like my past. I have to salvage what I can from this wrecked life. It’s the only way to explain it. I want to forget and never look back. Never speak his name again so I can shake the hold he has on me. Because it still hurts too much to confess everything.

The shame, the loathing I feel… I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.

I flatten a hand over my stomach, stiffening at the foreign gesture. “My baby will never know him. And neither will anyone else. Let’s keep it like that.”

His face darkens.

It’s not what this take-charge cowboy wants, but it’s what he gets.

“Tell me,” he says firmer this time, an order. My hand still in his, he draws me forward. “It’s important. To keep you safe.”

“I’m safe here.” With you.

“You’re my responsibility.”

Responsibility. It sounds so stale. So unwanted. Between Keena and Fallon’s dismissal, it strikes a nerve.

“Stop saying that,” I snap. “You make me feel like a piece of gum stuck to everyone’s shoe that no one wants.”

Davis flinches. “Fuck.”

Hot, angry tears burn the backs of my eyes. Resentment. Regret.

Davis smears a hand down his square jaw, stands tall and exhales. “Let’s get one thing straight. Here and now. You’re no piece of gum. You’re no burden. And you’re not alone. Not anymore.”

Not alone. My body fills with oxygen. Sunlight. For one brief minute, I can breathe again. For one brief moment, I believe.

“You’ll get your life back, Dakota. I promise you.”

A tear slips down my cheek. “It’s easy for you to say that. You have control. You’re not helpless.”

There’s a long silence before he responds. “I’m not as in control as you think I am.”

“Why not?” I close the gap between us. Like that night at Eden, my hopeful heart pounds. “What do you want, Davis?”

He makes a choked sound in the back of his throat. “I want you to be safe, Dakota.”

“I’m afraid.” Another tear streaks down my cheek. “I don’t want to be alone.”

“You’re not alone. You’re with me.” It’s a promise. A daydream. A husky breath that threatens to take me down.

I close my eyes and slide my palm up his bare, muscled chest. Just a touch. An impulse. His big palms mold to my shoulders and I wait for his lips on mine, but Davis presses me back, away from him.

Again.

Davis stares at me, his broad chest heaving in the dim light, his face unreadable.

Embarrassment heats my cheeks.

Stupid, horny, pregnant Dakota.

A summer fling. That’s all we were. He proved his point when he let me go six years ago.

It wasn’t love.

I force a tight smile, my stomach in knots. “I should go.”

Davis’s mouth is a grim line, strain around his eyes. “Koty, wait—”

Before I can lose my nerve, I spin around and rush for the door, refusing to look back.

“Goodnight, Davis.”

And thank you for being a perfect fucking gentleman.

I step into the hallway, my face aflame. Keena prowls near the stairs, and I frown at how unbelievably smug she looks.

When I’m halfway back to my room, I stop.

Fuck Davis Montgomery’s walls.

I’m tired of keeping secrets. Tired of keeping my distance.

Heartbeat in my ears, I turn around and walk back to his room. I lift a hand to knock, but before I can, the door’s ripped open.

“Dakota,” Davis husks, bare chest heaving, muscles rippling.

I wet my lips. “I forgot something.”

His throat works, his eyes running over my face, my body. “What’s that?”

“Another secret.”

“Tell me.”

“I miss you,” I say, right before cupping that handsome, tortured face in my hands and locking my lips to his.