Her head bobs distractedly and I cover her fist with my palm. “Peyton, you just kicked major ass out there. Hold onto that.” I stop myself just short of saying please.
Selfishly, I admit a part of me wants Cade to walk up and find her happy with me. But more than that, I want this for her. What she just did out there was amazing. She conquered a fear—no, she smashed it to hell. Peyton owned that barrel course and right now, she should be on cloud fucking nine, not gnawing on her lip like some cracked out rabbit.
I pry the fingers of her clenched hand loose and Peyton’s eyes finally settle on me. Her mouth lifts in a wan smile, lip still trapped, and I growl with the need to free it. If she weren’t perched so high on Oakley’s back, I’d do exactly that. I’d tug it free and soothe the tender flesh with my thumb… before following with my mouth.
But that’s only if she let me, and the chances of that are slim to none.
Sure, we shared an incredible day. We laughed, we smiled, we worked together like a team. But she’s still not mine. She’s his, and if she rejected my touch after the last few hours… I’m not sure I could handle it.
We could fill a book with the words left unsaid between us. My plan was to tell her today, after we brushed Oakley down, the truth about what happened freshman year, the way I feel about her now. The way I’ve always felt. Guess that plan’s shot to hell.
Cade’s door slams. You’d think, after how long he’s been sitting in his truck, he’d at least pretend not to care that I’m here. You’d think wrong. Whatever little pep talk he gave himself didn’t do a damn thing because he’s glaring at me like I’m horse shit under his boot.
The feeling’s mutual, kid.
Peyton’s low hum yanks me from our silent show down. She rocks in the saddle, back and forth, watching Cade storm up the trail in his stupid cowboy boots, taking in Oakley, the barrels we obviously just left, and me, standing right beside her.
When he comes to a stop in front of us, a tight smile a poor mask for his tension, he asks, “What’d I miss?”
Jesus, what a loaded question. One I’d love to answer, too, but Peyton beats me to the punch. She hops off Oakley’s back before I can even form a word. Smart girl.
She hesitates only a second before running and jumping into his arms. “I did it!”
Gone is the apprehension and guilt, replaced with pure excitement and energy. Though it kills me that she’s looking at him the same way she looked at me not five minutes ago, at least she’s smiling again. That’s an improvement.
“Can you believe it?” she asks, face lit with awe. “I actually did it! I didn’t even freak out this time.”
Cade glances at me, so quick she probably misses it, before running his hand down her back. “Of course I believe it, CC. I didn’t doubt you for a second.”
I try and fail not to make a gagging sound. Cade shoots me another one of those horse-shit looks as Peyton steps back from his embrace.
“Justin helped me complete the course at least a dozen times,” she says. “I don’t have to tell Mama to call off the expo. We can still save the ranch!”
This is the most enthusiasm I’ve seen out of Peyton in weeks. From Cade’s reaction, it’s the most he’s seen, too, and from the expression on his face, he’s clearly torn between loving it and loathing that I had anything to do with it. If he had his way, I’m sure he’d stick with the status quo—me being the royal fuck-up, and him the white-hat hero.
Finally, he says, “That’s amazing,” though his tone implies he’s anything but amazed.
His fingers glide through her strawberry blonde hair, mussed by the wind and riding, and he cradles her face to press a kiss against her forehead. His dark eyes meet mine.
I’ve never been an overly violent person. Aggressive, maybe. Protective, absolutely. Like any other guy, I’ve gotten in my share of fights, but it’s not like I search them out. I don’t relish the thought of cracking skulls or watching someone bleed. But this little shit is getting to me. He’s standing in the way of what’s mine, and it takes every memory of Peyton’s smiles to keep me from going after him, right here, right now.
I won’t ruin her day with my bullshit. But soon, Cade and I are gonna have a talk.
Dismissing me with a glance, Cade tips her head back and continues. “I have to say, though, I wish you would’ve come to me.”
The words hit as intended, and Peyton winces, that inner-light dimming again. If I had no other reason, I’d hate the guy just for that.
“I know.” She steps out of his arms and folds hers tight across her chest. “But if you or Faith or Mama saw me fail again… I couldn’t deal with that. Too much is riding on this. I had to do it on my own.”