Accidental Knight: A Marriage Mistake Romance(60)

Even I’m not that insane.

It’s hard, giving her up when that softness boiling up her throat tells me she’d do more than tongue fencing.

The desire to kiss her longer, harder, sets the beat of my entire pulse.

As our lips part, I give her one last kiss, growling as my head snakes back.

Her eyes open, and she looks at me with wonder. I recognize that look.

It’s all shock and awe and what the hell just happened?

I wish I had an answer. I wanted to distract her from seeing her folks and that jackal, yeah, but I also know one thing: I’ve never had this manic, animal urge hit me like it did before I had to taste her.

It struck deep, pure primal oil, this muck in my veins urging me to ruin my own mission by hauling her to bed.

It’s a place I haven’t been for a long time, too. After Dad and Angie and Winnie, it’s a place I never bothered going to again.

There’s also no mistaking the dilemma right in front of us. She’s got questions forming on her face, ready to pour out, and the second I move, there’s still a chance she’ll see her folks. What if she thinks this kiss was just a distraction? Just using her, and nothing more?

Shit, this was a bad idea. I can’t have that, and I can’t have her walking away insulted.

Sighing, I break eye contact, then glance at her again and say, “Bella, listen up. Your parents are across the street with Briar, watching us.”

Disappointment and shock ripples across her face, at least that’s what it looks like, but only for a second. Then she smiles.

“Oh. Oh, well, in that case...” She reaches up and pulls my head down and then I’m on her lips again.

Goddamn!

I kiss her back with the fury of a thousand suns, letting this torrid confusion and rhythm slapping my blood like Odin’s hammer have its fill.

If she wants to believe this is a game, let her.

Let her believe she’s in control.

I tell myself I’m not feeling anything, too. Not enjoying the force and enthusiasm she demonstrates, pressing her little body against mine, dangerously close to an erection that’s about to rip through my denim.

Obviously, I’m not a great liar.

Not kissing her back is about as tough as not savoring it. But I don’t push for more when she eases out of the kiss. A triumphant grin appears on her face as her arms slip off my neck.

With a full, saucy smile, she winks at me and whispers. “Guess we’d better head home.”

Fuck.

Honestly, I don’t know if those words are a relief or something new to worry about because I don’t know what happens tonight. I don’t know what might happen, what seems inevitable, when we’re cooped up together at the ranch over the next six months – six fucking months – sharing a place that’s too big and too emotional for us and has too many beds.

I close the door and tell myself I know what I’m doing, walking around to the driver’s door.

She’s looking in the rear-view mirror. My side mirror reflects her mother’s leg, sticking out of an open car door, and Avery leaning out from his vehicle, surely telling her something. I get a sense that Molly was about to march over here, or worse, but Avery stops her.

Son of a bitch.

I have to shift in the seat to relieve the pressure of my dick straining in my jeans. She has one hell of a knack for acting, and one hell of a mouth.

If today’s any indication, it’s gonna be a long six months.





“I don’t like him,” Bella says.

She’s still looking in the rear-view mirror. I glance in it once as I back out of the parking space. I know who she means, and he’s still there, watching us with a calm and coolness Molly Reed will never possess. “Briar?”

“Yeah. There’s just something about him. He makes my skin crawl.”

I’m glad to hear it, honestly. Glancing in my side mirror, I see Briar motioning, then Molly pulls her car door shut. She listens to him, but orders Gary around like a dog. Interesting.

“Your ma appears to have made friends with him.”

“Of course. He has what she wants. Money, money, money for North Earhart Oil.” She twists in her seat and glances over her shoulder. As she turns forward, she asks, “Did he say where those men almost ran him off the road?”

I pause, fingers gripping the wheel tighter. “Not that I recall, why?”

“Because those men were at the ranch hours after he left, remember? What was he doing hanging around long enough for our prowlers to almost run him off the road and give him a chance to chase them down?”

Good fucking question.

I’d wondered about it myself and planned on having a conversation with the sheriff later, in private. Until I know more, I can only speculate, but I don’t want her to. “He didn’t say it was near the ranch.”

“No, but he said he knew Gramps was having trouble with trespassers. Something about theft and damage?” She’s quiet for a moment, waiting. “Was he, Drake? Is that why you put up all those cameras?”

I question how much I should tell her.

There’s no good reason for her to be scared, not with the precautions I’ve put in place. At the same time, she’s in this deep, fighting at my side. She deserves to know how serious things are sooner or later. Fine, I’ll throw her a bone.