Page 40 of Sunday's Best

“Are you going to fight for me this time?”

“Only if you want me to.” His mouth tilts into a crooked half-smile. “It might be rough for a while. It’s going to take some time for Logan to come around to the idea of us being together.”

“Are you okay with that? He’s your brother.”

“He is. And he’s also a selfish asshole who sees women as conquests. It’s going to be a blow to his pride, but not much else. He’ll get over it.” He tugs at my hand until I’m hooking a leg over his lap, and then he reaches for my hips, guiding me to straddle him. “I’ve had a year to think about all of this, and I knew that if a day ever came where you wanted me as badly as I want you, I wouldn’t hesitate. Not again. I did that before and had to spend months watching you be with someone who didn’t appreciate how good he had it.”

I can’t help myself; I cup his jaw in my hands and kiss him. It feels so right, I catch myself thinking about what forever might look like. And that feels right, too.

“How good do you have it?” I murmur between sensual kisses.

“You single-handedly dragged me out of hell, angel, and I’ve never been happier.”

Fourteen

Ihaven’t seen Holden since the night I broke up with Logan, when we sat on the couch until long after the candle was extinguished and early traces of sunlight peered in through the curtains, talking about everything from our childhoods to our futures.

I explained that I’d be staying at Logan’s house for the summer because moving back into my mom’s house for any amount of time was sure to give me a stomach ulcer. I’m a teacher. I deal with immaturity and wild behavior daily, but there’s something extra agitating about sharing a space with an emotionally immature parent who prioritizes skeezy romantic partners over their child.

Holden and I agreed to keep our distance until the fall. For all of our sakes.

I hadn’t even planned on coming to the rodeo.

But when Holden asked if I’d come see him for a minute before the team roping event, I folded instantly.

I find him saddling his horse at the back of the trailer, too focused on his task to notice me sidle up next to the truck. I lean against it to study—ogle, rather—the handsome cowboy with denim stretched over his thick thighs and round, biteable ass. And I can only assume he’s picked up on how hot sleeve-rolling is from one of my romance books, because I’ve never seen forearm porn from him quite like this. I catch a glimpse of his veined hands as he tightens his horse's cinch, and my knees threaten to buckle. Who gave him permission to look this good when we’re supposed to be pretending we’re strictly friends? Wasn’t me.

When he looks up and sees me, he smiles. My heart aches at that grin. It’s one most people don’t get often. Something in my soul magnetizes and pulls me straight to him.

He drops what he’s doing and takes a step toward me. “Hey.”

“Hey.” I glance around for a sign of Logan. His horse is gone, so I can assume he is, too. “You wanted to see me?”

“I did. Just for a second.”

We stand there. Too close, not close enough. For a split second, I think we might do the right thing here, and part with a longing look and a promise to connect when he’s back home.

“You doing okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, I am.” I mean it.

“It’s already been weird not having you around. Quiet.”

“You miss having someone to call you out when you’re being unbearable?”

His mouth quirks. “Unbearably hot?”

“Humble, too.”

He steps closer, crowding me against the hot metal box of his pickup. “Keeping me humble is your job. You’ve been slacking, angel.”

A few cowboys stroll past, making my nerves skitter and my heart momentarily stop, and Holden shifts our bodies to shield me from view. It’s protective and possessive and hot. When he’s so close, it’s nearly impossible not to think about the feel of his body pressing into mine with an earnest gasp.

My breath saws through my lungs at the heat and scent of his body. My finger hooks in the rolled-up sleeve of his shirt. “We’re being reckless.”

“Might be,” he mutters, warm breath washing over my cheek as his lips find my ear. His fingers glide along my waistband, leaving a wake of goosebumps behind and rousing the desire in my core. “But I don’t care.”

“Holden…” I warn, but it’s useless. We both know it.