“What’s goin’ on, Yo?”
He brushed his long black hair back and didn’t quite meet Steele’s eyes. “I’m fine, brother. Everything’s fine.”
Steele seriously doubted it, but he knew better than to push. Coyote had gone through an ordeal, and he needed the time and space to heal.
Speaking of healing, Justice was still staying with Etta May. She’d left him a message saying Justice was better but still off—whatever that meant. Maybe the Horsemen needed a new business—a nuthouse. Steele, Justice, and Coyote could be the first customers.
He decided to leave it alone for the time being and backed toward the door. “Okay. Well, I’ll be out front if you need me. Maybe we’ll get some dinner tonight?”
“Yeah, maybe.”
As Steele walked away, another poster crashed to the ground.
***
You got this. You can do this. You’ll kick its ass.
That evening, Ash stood in a field, trying to calm her nerves. She kept patting her body down and couldn’t shake the feeling she’d misplaced something important.
Maybe her mind.
She was surrounded by dingy brown grass and three half-dead pine trees, preparing to do the most romantic and rash thing she’d ever done.
No way to back out now, even if she wanted to.
Earlier, she’d sent a text message to Steele—a text, because apparently she was a baby who couldn’t use her big girl words to talk to him on the phone.
As she watched a lone headlight snake up the drive, she realized the moment had arrived. Ash swayed on her feet, feeling nauseous. Her fingertips had gone numb and cold, and her hands wouldn’t stop shaking.
Pull it together, Ash.
She hadn’t felt this scared since her first night in Afghanistan.
Steele pulled up then cut the engine and dismounted. She hadn’t been sure she’d ever get to see him again, but here they were.
Ash only had to make it through the next five minutes—blurt the words out and be done with it.
He wore a pair of soft-looking faded jeans and his cut—beneath it, a hoodie. And she wanted to run over to him, wrap her arms around his waist, and bury her head in the soft, warm cotton fabric.
But she didn’t dare. Not yet.
“Thank you for comin’. I wasn’t sure you would.”
“Of course, I came. What’s goin’ on? I thought you’d be long gone by now.”
Her body quaked as adrenaline surged through her system. It made her shaky, jumpy—which was ridiculous. She wasn’t fighting for her life.
Well, in a way, wasn’t she?
Ash fisted her hands at her sides. “I, um, need to tell you somethin’…or ask you.”
He walked closer. “What’s wrong, Dusty? What happened?”
“I put all my stuff in the car then drove down the street, but I couldn’t leave the township. I just stayed there on the side of the road this morning, thinkin’.”
“About what?” Steele sidled up to her.
“You…me…us. I told you how brave I am when it comes to chasin’ down bad guys or huntin’ terrorists. I’m a badass when it comes to the job.”
“I know. I’ve seen you in action.”
And here was the hard part.
“And when it comes to love, I’m a chicken. No, worse than that, I’m a fraidy cat. I’m the kind of girl who shakes in her combat boots when it comes to lettin’ men in. I’d rather pretend I don’t need anyone.” Ash blurted the words before she could lose her nerve. “And I hope I didn’t screw it up with you. I’m sorry I didn’t say yes when you asked me.”
His head tilted to the side, and he was watching with her the softest eyes.
“I know you’re scared. Me too.”
“What if I start needin’ you and relying on you?” Her vision blurred with tears. “What happens if I can’t live without you?”
Steel didn’t say anything for the longest time. It felt like years before he spoke again.
“I think that’s the point of being in love with someone.”
“And I must’ve lost my mind because I bought all this dirt and grass….” Ash spread her arms and turned in a slow circle.
His eyes widened. “You bought this lot?”
“Yeah, and this tree. Because trees are about life and growth—they’re long-term. Get it?” Sitting on the ground next to her, was a tiny sapling with its roots wrapped in burlap. A tree so small and so sickly, Charlie Brown would’ve walked away from it. It’d been the only tree the nursery had left, so she’d bought it.
She couldn’t interpret his expression.
Then he gave her the most beautiful smile. “And it has roots.”
“Exactly! I wanna put down roots here. I wanna live here.”
“With me?”
“Yes, with you. I want more than a job. I want real friends and I…I want you. I have since I was sixteen years old. You’re the one for me.”
“And you’re the one for me.”
They stared at one another, and Ash felt dopey all of a sudden, slaphappy and breathless—like the first time he’d kissed her.
“For the record, I’m not your girlfriend.”
“Damn straight. You’re my old lady.” Steele opened his arms, and she ran into them. He swept her up and kissed her slow and easy.
When he pulled away, she placed her head on his chest, and it felt every bit as good as she’d imagined.
Ash was home.
Steele studied their surroundings, his gaze flicking over the property. “Know what this lot needs?”
“Hmm?”
“A house would be good—unless you like campin’.”
She’d already spent her cartel reward check, so the house might have to wait a bit.
“Good point. You sayin’ you wanna live together?”
“I want way more that. We’re gonna work together too. I think you’ll be a damn good bounty hunter. We can talk about it during dinner at Hades.” Steele led her over to the bike. “We’ve got some serious plannin’ to do.” He paused by the Harley expectantly.
“What?”
“When you ride on the bike….”
Smirking, Ash dropped trou and forked over her knickers. Steele tucked them into his pocket.
Ash climbed on behind him, and Steele started the engine. Before they put their helmets on, she whispered into his ear, “Can we have chocolate mousse for dessert?”
Steele groaned as her questing hands settled on his hips. “As long as we get it to go. I wanna watch you eat it in bed…while I do other things.”
And they took off to make plans for the future.
Together.
Thank y’all for readin’!
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About the Author
Cynthia Rayne is the USA TODAY bestselling author of the Lone Star Mobster Series and the Four Horsemen MC Series. While Cynthia was born and raised a damn Yankee in Ohio, her parents hail from Dixie, and she grew up on homemade buttermilk biscuits and southern wisdom. In her spare time, she enjoys shopping, reading way too many romance novels, and drinking a truly obscene amount of coffee.
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Copyright
© Wild Ride by Cynthia Rayne 2017
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review or book discussion, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part is forbidden without the written permission of the author.
Editing
Editing720
Stock Photo
emeraldraindrops via Can Stock Photo
Cover Art
Mayhem Cover Creations
Disclaimer
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and events are the product of the author’s wicked imagination. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and frankly a bit creepy.
Copyright
> © Shot to Hell By Cynthia Rayne 2016-2017
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review or book discussion, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part is forbidden without the written permission of the author.
Editing
Edits by Jade
Theresa M. Cole
Stock Photo
artofphoto via Can Stock Photo
Cover Art
© Sarah Laney 2016
Sweet Southern Creations
Disclaimer
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and events are the product of the author’s wicked imagination. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and frankly a bit creepy.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Epilogue
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Wild Ride (Let it Ride Book 2) Page 37
