Bucked (The Invincibles 6)

“You have other sources.”

I looked at Buck. “What the fuck?” I mouthed.

The absolute last thing I expected when he took a step forward and brought his mouth close to my ear, was that he’d kiss my cheek. But that’s exactly what he did.

“What was that for?”

He took my hand and led me out the front door and over to a pickup that looked a lot like the one he’d picked me up in for the wedding. “I decided I need to do that more often.”

“Why?”

He smiled. “Because eventually, I’ll make my way from here,” he touched my cheek, “to here.” He ran his thumb over my lower lip and opened the passenger door.

“Is this the same truck you had in DC?” I knew it wasn’t, but I had to change the subject.

Buck blocked me from climbing in. “Is that all you’ve got to say, Stella?”

I looked away. “Don’t play with me, Buck.”

“Look at me.”

I shook my head.

“Look at me, darlin’.”

I folded my arms; Buck put his fingers on my chin and gently turned my face toward him.

“I’m not playin’, Stella.”

“Sure you aren’t, Buck. This isn’t exactly my first rodeo, cowboy.”

He moved his arm out of the way. “Scoot to the middle, darlin’.”

“You didn’t answer my question about the truck.”

“When I moved to Virginia, I bought one just like it. I don’t think either one would make it from one state to another.”

I wasn’t thrilled when Irish climbed in beside me, given his rude comment from a couple of minutes ago. I shifted closer to Buck and looked up at him.

If anything, being on the ranch made him look even hotter. Here, dressed in his cowboy get-up, he looked like he belonged. When I first met him in DC, when he was on Ali’s detail, I thought the whole flannel shirt, pressed jeans, and hat ensemble was pretty hokey. It didn’t take long, though, before I found myself admiring how great his ass looked in those jeans.

Same with his beard. I’d never been a fan of them, but on him? Lord have mercy. And the long hair he kept tied back in a ponytail? He was everything I never dreamed I’d find attractive in a man. Now, I wanted to climb on his lap and straddle him as he drove to the cabin I hoped only had one bedroom. And here I’d just accused him of playing me. Maybe it was the other way around.

Before starting the truck, he looked into my eyes, winked, and smiled. “Whatever you’re thinking about, pretty girl, I like it.”

I could feel the heat flush my cheeks, and I looked away. Girl? I was old enough to be his…uh…older sister. He dropped one hand from the wheel and rested it on my thigh. When I looked down at it and then up at him, his fingers dug into my flesh.

He parked in front of one of the cabins and cut the engine.

“You’re in that one down there,” Buck said to Irish, pointing to the left. “And we’re in this one,” he said to me.

He got out and held his hand out to me. When I slid over, he put his hands on my waist and set me on my feet. Instead of letting go, he tightened his grip. “I knew it,” he murmured.

“Knew what?”

His hold tightened more. “That I could wrap my hands all the way around your waist.” When he let go, I immediately missed his touch. He grabbed both our bags. “This way,” he said, motioning toward the door.

I stood, waiting for him to unlock it. Instead, he set one bag down and turned the handle.