Stripped Down

When I’m done, I leave, the lawyer’s door snapping shut behind me. Mitch hollers a farewell, but I’ll bet he’s already forgotten me. I’m just a job to him. Paperwork to file and a loose end to wrap up. I’m not surprised. I didn’t spend too much time here in Lonesome, while he’s lived here pretty much his entire life. He must have left at some point—he has a law degree from the University of California hanging on his wall—but then he came back. There’s probably a Mrs. Mitch and some mini-me clones running around as well.

I pause when I hit the sidewalk. I’ve got two choices—left or right—and they both lead straight out of Lonesome. I figure I can decide when I reach my car, which is parked all of ten feet away. Before I can get to it car and hit the road, however, my nemesis rides right on up Lonesome’s main street as if he owns that patch of asphalt, too. Angel is all cowboy. Tough and hard, his face determined as that horse of his picks up speed. Of course, I’m probably the problem he’s riding hell-bent for leather to solve.

I’m not his problem anymore.

I’m not his anything.

I kind of wish I could see his face, though, when Mitch explains things to him.

Angel stops the horse in front of me.

It’s turning out to be a real pretty day, the kind of sunny-and-blue that usually makes me think about picnics and swimming. Shielding my eyes from the glare, I look up at him. God, he’s gorgeous.

“I wasn’t late this time,” I tell him.

I was early in fact, eager to get this over with. Knowing why I decided to sign—because I love Angel, and he needs this more than I do— doesn’t actually make the act itself any easier. It just makes me okay with the sadness of it all. I’ll make new memories, more memories—just somewhere else and with someone else.

His face doesn’t give shit away. “That’s not what I’m here about.”

“Whatever.” Turning away, I start walking toward my car. I’ll get in, and I’ll go. There’s a fresh start and a fourth chance out there with my name on it, and I’m finding it.

“Can we talk?”

The horse falls in beside me. I’m not overly thrilled about nine hundred pounds of animal inches away from me, but any horse Angel rides will be well trained and as disciplined as the man himself. Unless—and I can feel the small smile tugging at the corners of my mouth— I get him on a picnic table. Then all bets are off. Angel losing control is a sight to see.

“I don’t think there’s anything left to discuss. I signed the papers. You own the place now. You go right ahead and drill those wells of yours.”

“I appreciate it.” His husky drawl is pleasant, as if we’re strangers exchanging please-and-thank-yous in the grocery. No more lovers. Five feet to the car, and this is over.

“But that’s not what I’m here about,” he repeats. “There’s something else. Us.”

His words make my stupid heart leap, and, damn it, this is just what I don’t want. I don’t need a conversation about how the sex is great, thank you, but there’s no future for us.

“Unless you’re breaking up with me,” he adds, and I suck in air. Hard.

“I didn’t realize we were even dating.” I hate the sudden pounding of my heart, the prickle of sweat icing my spine. It’s summer in California—I have no business being cold.

“Damn it, Rose,” he growls in that gruff, rough voice that gets my panties wet. “This isn’t a game. Not to me.”

“I know,” I say, and I do. Screw being mature. I jog the last few feet to the car. Dumping my purse on the hood, I fish blindly for the keys.

Behind me I hear the steady up-and-down of horse hooves, and then a hard arm bands around my waist, lifting me off my feet. The shriek tears out of my mouth before I can stop myself.

“Don’t scare the horse, darling.” Effortlessly, he pulls me up and over his saddle. It’s all too easy to imagine him a hundred years ago, driving cattle with maybe some rustling and thieving on the side. He doesn’t take his eyes off the road, but his face is fierce.

“Damn it, Rose,” he curses, when I continue to wriggle in his hold, “you’re going to listen to me and you might want to sit still because it’s a long way to fall.”

I’ve already done way too much falling for Angel.

Wrapping both arms around me tightly, he guides the horse with his knees. Our departure is accompanied by a whole lot of whooping from the handful of cowboys parked outside the bar. Pretty sure that’s Axel disappearing inside with a grin on his face. I can count the number of times I’ve seen that man smile on one hand.