Rough, Raw, and Ready (Rough Riders #5)(20)

She didn’t want to cry, but dammit, the tears started falling again.

“Chassie, baby, you weren’t my last choice; you were my first choice. My only choice. I wanted to give you everything that I’d never given another human being: my loyalty, my faithfulness, my love, and my name. I cannot imagine my life without you.”


His fingers tightened on her scalp. “I’ll send Edgard away. He never should’ve come here and I shouldn’t have let him stay.”


“That’s not the issue.”


“Then what is?”


“You should’ve told me about him—who he was to you—from the start. I knew you weren’t a saint when I married you, Trevor. I could give a shit who you’d bedded before we met. Dammit, we’ve talked about some of the women you f*cked, the women I know personally, and your preference for threesomes. Honestly, those didn’t bother me. But you not tellin’ me about your relationship with Edgard? That bothers me. You’ve assigned significance to him by keepin’ your past relationship with him hidden.” She scrutinized his too-blank face and felt as if a brick wall had sprouted between them. “He was very important to you, wasn’t he?”


Finally Trevor nodded.

Her stomach sank as if she’d swallowed a spur. “I can’t handle you keepin’ things like this from me. I lived in that world of half-truths and secrets for years, and I won’t ever again.”


“So did I. Which is why I didn’t tell you about him.”


They stared at each other for several excruciating minutes, at an absolute stalemate.

“So what now?” Trevor asked.

“I don’t know. I need some time to sort it out. And you and Edgard need to talk. Not only about what happened in the corral today, but about your unresolved issues from the past and why he tracked you down now.” Chassie removed Trevor’s hands from her face.

“I can’t be with you until that’s settled.”


“But—”


“No buts. I’m goin’ to Wheatland to Zoey’s bridal shower. I’ll clear out for a day or so, just like I’d planned.”


A stark look darkened his blue eyes. “No. Baby, don’t leave me. We can work on it here, together—”


Chassie placed her fingers over his lips. “Trevor, I love you, but I’d be lyin’ to both of us if I didn’t admit I hate you a little bit right now.”


His whole posture slumped and his eyes were shiny with unshed tears.

She steeled herself against her need to soothe him. “Give me some space. Stay here, take care of the ranch, and talk to Edgard. I’ll be back.”


Trevor frowned. He paced to the door. He returned and got right in her face. “Okay.

But if you don’t come home to me within two days, I’m comin’ after you, Chassie.

You’re mine. And I ain’t ever lettin’ you go.”


Might make her a pathetic fool, but Chassie needed to be held by the only man who’d ever held her heart. She wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her face into his chest, listening to the rapid thump of his heartbeat. “Promise me one thing.”


“Anything, baby, anything for you.”


“Please don’t turn to Edgard when I’m gone. Don’t touch him, don’t kiss him and don’t f*ck him. Please, promise me.”


“I promise.”


She backed away without looking at him. “I have to finish packing.”


“You sure about this, Chass? Sure that leavin’ is the best way to handle it?”


No. “I’ll have my cell with me, but please don’t call. I need some time to think. I deserve that much.”


She’d started for the stairs when Trevor called out, “I love you. I’ve never said that to anyone else in my life. Think on that.” The outer door slammed.

Chassie loaded her lone suitcase in the truck and climbed in. As she headed down the driveway, she glanced in her rearview and saw Trevor standing alone in the middle of the road, his hands jammed in his pockets, watching her leave.

Hit the brakes. Don’t go.

It was almost as if she heard Trevor’s thoughts.

With a renewed burst of determination, she hit the gas and the open road.

Chapter Eight


Edgard stayed in the barn and closed his eyes, wondering why’d he’d given in to his masochistic tendencies. Was he that much of a prick he’d hoped to come to Wyoming and find Trevor miserable? Married to a shrew? Longing for him? Filled with regret? Did Edgard expect Trevor would secretly beg Edgard to take him back?

Hell, Edgard didn’t know what he’d do even if that warped fantasy came true, especially after meeting Chassie.

Trevor’s wife was nothing like Edgard expected. In the years Edgard traveled with Trevor, Trevor’s taste in women could be described as trashy, trashier and trashiest. Easy girly-girls with a “do me, cowboy” gleam in their eyes and notches in their fancy rhinestone belts. Buckle bunnies with dyed hair, fake boobs, fake tans, fake nails, sporting expensive high-heeled fashion boots, low-cut shirts and low intellect. Real live cowgirls need not apply for a spot in Trevor’s stable.