Rope the Moon (Runaway Ranch, #2)(59)

Fuck.

But instead of walking her back to the house, I wrap my arm around her shoulders and tuck her into me. Her body melts against mine. My heart pumps out a hard rhythm, matched only by the throbbing of my cock.

“Is talking in the dark under the moon our thing now?” Her voice comes out slightly breathless.

I kiss the top of her head, inhaling her honeyed scent. “I like under the moon.”

“Me too.” She beams and every bit of self-control I have disappears. This isn’t an itch. Dakota’s a need. “Same time tomorrow?”

I should say no. But I can’t.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”





Fallon’s ringing up a customer when I exit the kitchen, so I hover back and wait until the store clears. Like wildlife, my little sister can be unpredictable when surprised or disturbed.

When she’s done, I hold up a jar of Montana huckleberry jam and ask, “Where does this go? Local goods or bread aisle?”

“Local,” she says, avoiding my gaze. Her discomfort is so obvious it’s painful.

Since our big blow up two weeks ago, we’ve been walking on eggshells. Making polite, stilted conversation. Running The Corner Store in shifts like two divorced parents who meet in the parking garage to trade children.

It’s the way Fallon deals. When she gets mad or sad, she powers down like a robot whose systems are only equipped for wild, never reality. When our mother left, she slept in her closet for two months.

As I move to put away the misplaced item, I graze my belly against the corner of the register. “Oof,” I say, clutching my stomach. My baby rolls inside and I smile. I’m getting used to the tiny squish inside of me. We’re in it together.

“You’re bigger,” Fallon says, coming up beside me.

“Tell me about it.” I huff a lock of hair out of my eyes. “I’m either bumping into everything with my cast or with my belly.”

She gives me her classic droll side-eye. “How long are you planning to keep it a secret?”

“How long do you think I have in this town?”

She snorts. “A month tops.” Her left eyebrow lifts. “Won’t be able to hide it forever.”

“I know,” I reply, stroking a hand over my bump.

I’m sick of hiding. My pregnancy. My heart. My dreams.

If Aiden’s out there, he better hurry it up.

A smile ghosts Fallon’s face. “Or you could just do what I did with my boobs in seventh grade and tape them down.”

I bark a laugh. “Somehow, I don’t think it works that way.”

Fallon’s lips press tight as she scans the store. “Fuck it,” she says and moves to the door. She flips the sign to closed. It’s just after five. “No one’s gonna come, anyway.”

She stares out into the lavender light of the late afternoon at Davis’s truck and taps the glass. “You and Hotshot stop dancing around it?”

My face flushes with heat. An image forms in my mind of Davis kissing me under white moonlight before taking me upstairs to fuck me senseless.

I squeeze my thighs together to drive the image away. “There’s no dancing,” I say. The words stick in my throat. “In fact, we have a moratorium on dancing.”

“Okay, then.” Fallon’s doubtful eyes flicker to me. “You’re not that good of a liar, Dakota.” After a second, she crosses the floor and disappears into the kitchen.

My gaze lands on Davis’s pickup truck.

Friends, Davis said. And maybe that’s the truth.

Maybe that’s the problem. Maybe I’m pregnant and horny. And Davis doing sweet things, like buckling my seatbelt over my belly when he drives us into town, sends my hormones into meltdown status.

Maybe all I’ve done is pin my loneliness onto Davis. It’s not love, but sympathy. Friends. Friends fucking.

Maybe all it can be is temporary. And maybe I need that. To know there is someone else out there who isn’t Aiden.

A good man.

The best man I’ve ever known.

Brawn and beast. Cowboy and cool. Whiskey and warrior.

The kind of man who makes you feel like the most important, loved, luckiest, and beautiful woman in the universe.

With Davis, I trust him with every inch of myself. I always have.

A part of me doesn’t care if it’s right or wrong. Doesn’t want to understand or fight it.

Because the truth is, I still love him. I’ve never stopped. I thought being back here would make me realize we weren’t meant to be. We changed; we grew apart. That the time we spent together over a year was fleeting, a flash in the pan fling. But the same old feelings still exist for me. He’s the same man I loved back then. And it hurts. He’s so close, but so far out of reach. For so many reasons.

I need to keep my life easy with simple, attainable things. A man? No. An apartment? Definitely.

Besides, I can’t ask a man like Davis Montgomery to take on a hot mess like me, a child that isn’t his. I can’t put that on him. Who’s to say he even wants that?

All I’m taking is his time.

We’ll do whatever we do, and I’ll be content with that.

For once in my life, I need to sidestep the chaos. For so long, every aspect of my life with Aiden was bedlam. Like a raging static that never shut off in my head. Here, in Resurrection, on Runaway Ranch, I will be in the moment. And, more importantly, I will be safe.