Turn and Burn (Blacktop Cowboys 5)

“There are muffins and drinks in the truck. That oughta hold you for a little while.”

“Are we goin’ on a picnic?”

“Nope.” Then Fletch tugged her against his body and laid a fiery kiss on her.

When she managed to break the lip-lock, she murmured, “And we’re not spending the whole day in bed doin’ that . . . why?”

He chuckled. “Oh, we’ll have plenty of time for that after.”

“After what?”

Fletch just grinned and boosted her into the passenger side.

They didn’t talk much on the drive. She studied the scenery whizzing past. Fletch turned onto a dirt road. After a few miles, he hung a right onto another road that disappeared between a grove of trees. The quaintest ranch came into view. The house had been painted white, the shutters red. A white metal fence stretched from the edge of the red barn and down the pasture. The cattle in the field were Charolais, a breed as rarely seen as longhorns around these parts.

Fletch parked and cut the engine.

Tanna looked to the front of the house, expecting someone to greet them, but the red door remained closed. Odder yet was when Fletch helped her down and towed her to a picnic table beneath a weeping willow. “I’ll admit you’ve got me stumped. Where are we?”

He sat next to her on the whitewashed bench. “This place belongs to my dad’s good friends Wally and June Gansett. They’re in Jackson Hole. But I have permission to be here.” He slowly turned his body, giving himself a panoramic view. “I love this place. It’s so peaceful.”

“It certainly doesn’t look like anything I’ve seen in Wyoming.” Tanna’s gaze met his. “So why are we here?”

Fletch straddled the bench, mimicking her position, and took her hands. “I wanted to bring you to neutral ground so we could talk.”

An uneasy feeling arose. “What’s on your mind?”

“You.” He squeezed her hands. “Always.”

“That’s a little vague.”

When Fletch’s gaze locked to hers, her uneasiness grew. “Have you saddled a horse since we did the grooming demonstration at Eli’s?”

She didn’t like where this conversation was headed. “I’ve conditioned saddles. Does that count?”

Fletch didn’t chastise; he just waited for her honest response to his question.

“No, I haven’t saddled a horse. But I’ve groomed them and fed them and that should count for something.”

“It does . . . for anyone else but you. You are a horsewoman to the core, Tanna. I’ve brought you out here to face that loss of yourself.”

Tanna’s heart raced and that panicked feeling made every muscle in her body grow tense. If it were anyone else but Fletch she would’ve stomped off. But the firm way he held her hands and the gentle determination in his eyes kept her in place. “How?” slipped out of her lips.

Fletch kissed her knuckles. “We’re goin’ horseback riding today.”

Her stomach lurched and she tried to jerk her hands from his.

But he held tightly. “Just you and me.”

“No,” she whispered.

“Yes. On one horse.”

“Riding double? I haven’t done that since . . .” She’d first learned to ride. With her Uncle Manuel. She’d been young, but she still remembered his patience. His complete confidence in her abilities. Tears pricked her eyes. She couldn’t be certain if her response was from remembrance or fear.

“Hey.” Fletch got right in her face. “Don’t hide from me, Tanna. I want to help you and in order to do that I need to know everything you’re feeling.”

Spots wavered in front of her eyes. Somehow she made her mouth work. “Well, I’m scared.”

“Okay. Excited?”

She shook her head.

“Angry?”

“Yes.”

“At me? Or yourself?”

“Both. I’m mad at myself because it shouldn’t be this f**king hard. I’m mad at you because . . . I don’t know why. I just am.”

Fletch reached up and wiped her face. “Please, don’t cry.”

She hadn’t realized the tears she’d tried to hold back had escaped.

“Let me be what you need. If only for today.”

“And if I lose my shit? What then, Fletch?”

His eyes searched hers. “Are you worried I’ll run after seeing you that way?”

She nodded.

“I won’t. I promise.” He brushed his mouth over hers. “Nothin’ will make me run from you, Tanna. Nothin’. You can punch me, slap me, scream at me. You’re a little bitty thing. I’m a big guy. I can take whatever you dish out.”

“You sure?” Tanna eased back and held her hands out so he could see how badly she was shaking. “I’m this way just at the thought of getting on a horse.”

Fletch threaded his fingers through hers. “See? If you have me to hold on to the shaking isn’t as bad.”

More tears fell. The man was so damn sweet and wonderful and perfect. He deserved a woman who wasn’t broken inside.

“C’mere.” He lifted her onto his lap. His strong arms wrapped around her and he set his chin on top of her head.

She hid her face in the crook of his neck. Trying to slow down the mad pounding of her heart. Trying to breathe normally. The scent of his skin, being surrounded by him, supported by him, eased the fear somewhat. But not entirely.