Knowing instantly he’s referring to the fact that I had words with his ex, I nod. “I’m fine, honey.”
“When I got word that Jess was at the PieHole throwin’ her shit around, it wasn’t pretty. I almost took off Drew’s head when he reminded me I couldn’t do a single thing with the doc out lookin’ over the horses and two buyers out from Montana. I didn’t give one a damn about my responsibilities here when you are and will always be more important than anything else. If you hadn’t called me when you did, I woulda been there in a second, not givin’ one fuck about how much money I’d lose walkin’ away from those Montana folks.”
“I’m fine,” I stress, hoping he understands that I mean it.
“I know. I just can’t seem to help myself when it comes to you, darlin’. The thought of you feelin’ anything other than happiness and love isn’t somethin’ I enjoy too much.”
I tighten my arms around his body and lean up on my toes to attempt to get closer than our height differences allow, wanting him to really see me clearly.
“Clayton Davis, you’ve given me nothin’ but happiness for over four months now, and I have no doubt you’ll continue to do so for a long while, but there’ll be times that even you can’t control everything. Life might toss us some ugly. But I’m ready to take it on now if it does. Trust that I’m not goin’ to break just because some of that ugly tries to creep around us.”
“Trustin’ you has nothin’ to do with me wantin’ to protect you and keep you safe from all of that, Linney.”
“And that, honey, is what makes me feel like I’m strong enough to take on anything. Knowin’ that you care that much, that you’ll be there to keep me from trippin’, gives me the confidence to finally live free of fear and worry. There isn’t a dadgum thing on this green earth that has the power to douse that. Not anymore.”
“You want the rest?” he asks after holding my gaze for a few minutes, the weight of my words rolling over us.
I nod, his thumbs rubbing against my jaw as I do.
He releases his hold on my neck, drags his work-roughened hands down my skin until he’s got my wrists in his hold, and unwraps my arms from around his body. Silently, he places my palms on his shoulders and leans down. The brim of his hat drags over the top of my head while he continues to get so close I can feel the heat of his lips against mine.
“Hold on,” he rasps, confusing me.
When he grabs me at the back of my thighs and lifts, I squeal out in shock before wrapping my arms around his neck and pressing my chest into his face in order to keep my balance. Miraculously, I manage to stop acting like a weirdo long enough to grab his hat as it’s knocked off with the force of my freak-out. Keeping my legs tight, I lift my chest out of his face and release the arm holding his hat to place it back on his head. When the hat blocks my view, I pull it back off and plop it on my own head. Mindlessly, I use my free hand to run my fingers through his thick, unruly hair. His body moves as he laughs softly and my hand freezes in its third pass.
“You look good in my hat, darlin’.”
I shrug, the movement making his hat fall down over my forehead.
“Though I should probably get you one that fits better,” he jokes.
I lift my hand back off his shoulders to adjust the too-large hat. Not wanting the anticipation to get thicker, I ignore his joke. Mentally, I take one last swing at the walls I had used to protect me for my whole life and give the man holding me everything. I know he sees the enormity of my feelings written all over my face when his whole body jolts and his eyes darken. “You’ve got me now, handsome. Time to give me the rest.”
He starts walking, not looking away from me and me not looking away from him. When he turns us from the house and toward the stables, I frown in confusion.
“Trust me?” he questions, not missing a beat, knowing me well.
“Always,” I answer emphatically.
His chest expands with my answer like that one word was everything to him. He enters the stable that houses his personal horses. I don’t ever make it my mission to come in here with all the black-eyed beasts, but I know enough about this place that when he stops at the last stall, chills break out.
Onyx.
I know very little about him, but I heard Clayton and Drew talking about him and what I discovered broke my heart. He’s a pure black Arabian horse that Clayton saved. I don’t know all the details, but something along the lines of Onyx’s old owners sold him for meat in exchange for cash. When a shipment of horses was stopped on its way to Canada, one of Clayton’s old friends called him for help in placing the fifteen horses on their way to slaughter. No one wanted Onyx, so Clayton loaded him up and brought him back to the ranch.