Steal Her Heart (Kaid Ranch Shifters #1)(22)

She set it across the back of an old lawn chair he’d dragged out by the fire for her to sit on. And self-consciously, she started to undress, pulling her arm out from under her T-shirt.

“I’ll give you space,” Bryson muttered and made his way to the four-wheeler. he watched him out of the corner of her eye. He was tying another loop of rope to the back of the ATV. Twice, he cast a glance her way as though he couldn’t help himself.

Maris gave a private smile and gave him her back as she took off her bra, then slipped carefully out of her jeans. And, hell yeah, she’d passed up the granny panties in her drawer this morning and worn her cutest red lacy panties…just in case.

From behind her, she could hear him suck in breath and whisper, “Fuuuuuck.” And her smile got a little bigger.

She pulled the dress off the chair and stepped into the wide neck opening. It was strapless, so she pulled it right up and held it in place at her torso. She reached back with her free hand, but she couldn’t reach the zipper.

“Ummm…”

“I’ve got it,” Bryson murmured from right behind her. His fingertips brushed hers as he pulled the zipper up. When it was settled into place, in the middle of her back, he dragged his touch up her spine, slowly. A shiver trembled up her back, and she huffed a breath.

“You didn’t go cold after all, did you?” he asked.

She turned slowly and fluffed out the fabric of the full skirt.

“I lost a few pounds,” she said, blush heating her cheeks as she studied his boots. “The top is loose.

“You look just fine, Maris.”

She wrung her hands in front of her and forced her gaze up to his. What she saw in his eyes gave her butterflies like she’d never had before. He was standing tall and strong, chin up, those lightened eyes trained on her like nothing else existed.

“That man was an idiot for leaving,” he said gruffly. And then a spark of wickedness took his expression. “Ready to get your dress dirty?”

Her heart pounded as he gestured to the mattress hooked up to the back of the ATV. “Hold on for a full minute.”

“What will I win?” she asked, crossing her arms over the bejeweled bodice.

“Freedom from that man’s claws in your heart, but if that ain’t enough, I’ll take you out.”

“Out where?”

“Good God, woman, do you have to negotiate everything?”

“That part of me won’t improve with time.”

“To Tap’s. You been there?”

“Bar? Burgers? Dance floor?”

“That last part ain’t important.”

“Not a dancer?”

“Not on your life.” But he said it with a smile and presented a beautiful challenge. She bet she could get him out on the floor.

“One minute? I got this.” Maris hiked up her dress and tramped through the muddy grass to the mattress, plopped onto it, her white dress billowing around her. She dug her heels into the edge of the cushion, facing the back of the four-wheeler, and gripped the rope tight in front of her.

Bryson wore the biggest grin as he pulled his cellphone up and aimed it at her. Click.

“Why are you taking pictures?”

“You should see how damn determined you look right now, Duck. And you in that dress? You sure are a sight to see.” He was proud of her. She could tell. He was good at showing pride, and that surprised her. Big, tough man, healing from that fight last night, exhausted, yet still helping her get through something he had nothing to do with. He was the artist, etching how proud he was of her into every facet of his face so she could see it, clear as day. It was special. Did he even realize how important that was to a woman like her?

“You get in one of the pictures,” she said.

“Like a selfie?” he asked.

“Yeah. Selfie us. Right now. We’ll take a before and after picture.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “Never thought I would be a man who took selfies, but when a lady asks…or whatever you are,” he teased, lifting the phone up in front of him.

“I’m absolutely a lady!”

She could see herself in the background of his picture, so she hunched up her shoulders all cute and put on her prettiest smile.

“Ladies don’t wear see-through red lace panties.”

Her mouth plopped open.

Click.

“Oh, my gosh, retake that!” she said.

“Nope.” Bryson swung his leg over the seat of the four-wheeler and hit first gear before she could argue anymore. His laughter trailed behind him as he gunned it toward the muddiest part of the yard where the tires threw up muck onto her.

She squealed and held on tighter, turned her face to shield her eyes from the brown spray, all the while counting in her head—ten-one-thousand, eleven-one-thousand…

He cut left, and time slowed as he twisted in his seat, his grin huge as his eyes settled on her. When he pulled up the phone and aimed it at her, she got brave enough to sneak up a middle finger before she latched onto the rope again. Their laughter mingled, echoing through the clearing.

Twenty-one-thousand, twenty-one-one-thousand…

He took off for the front pasture, and she screamed as he hit another gear, going faster and faster, spraying mess all over her. She kept her head angled to the side to protect her eyes, and she could see the cows staring at her like she’d lost her damn mind. Marmalade was chewing a mouthful of grass and tracking Maris and the mattress slowly. Maris died laughing and nearly lost her grip.