Page 41 of Savage Heart

I glare up at him. “I don’t have a bunch of options for rides at my disposal. And I don’t answer to you about anything I do for my son.” I lean in closer. “And I’m not sure how you missed this, but you don’t get dibs on the Broken Spur.”

“Yeah?” His mouth dips closer to my ear, and his warm breath makes me shiver. “Why does it feel like you followed me here?”

“I was here first,” I hiss. “I had no idea you’d be here.”

“Bullshit.”

The accusation lands hard. I shove lightly at his chest, but he doesn’t budge.

“I knew the temporary olive branch wouldn’t last with you, but you don’t get to be angry about this,” I say. “It’s no secret you don’t want me anywhere near you, but there are only so many places I can go in this town.”

His eyes flick to my mouth, then back up, jaw flexing.

“Yet here you are,” he says. “Everywhere.”

“Worst Way” by Riley Green plays, and his thigh slides between mine, our bodies moving like they have minds of their own. Mine betrays me instantly, heat pooling low, breath catching despite myself.

We’re quiet, letting the rhythm take over. For a few moments I forget that we hate each other, and I let myself enjoy how good his hands feel, how right. When a slow song comes on, his grip tightens, and I melt against him.

“Jesus,” he mutters.

I swallow.

His gaze darkens. “Why can’t I just forget you?”

His voice sounds raw, and it makes me lose my step. We come to a stop in the middle of the dance floor, staring at each other.

“I don’t know,” I say quietly.

“You know . . . I always thought we’d end up together one day.”

I stare at him in shock. “You-you did? I . . . me too. What happened?”

For a split second, I think he might pull me closer.

But he releases me abruptly, stepping back like the contact burned.

“You killed my best friend.”

He turns and walks out of the bar, leaving me behind once again.

Chapter 10: Lifeline

Maverick

I stalk out of the Broken Spur and pace back and forth in the parking lot. Music thumps through the door, bass vibrating under my boots. I feel like punching a wall, but I’m not that stupid. Too many mouths to feed, animal and human, for me to risk a broken hand. Doesn’t mean I’m not at war on the inside.

Why does Iris Sullivan still get to me so damn much, after all this time?

“Maverick Harrington.”

I straighten and turn. Zoey Samuels leans against the brick wall of the bar, smiling at me. Her knee is bent, and she stubs out her cigarette, flicking it into the designated receptacle before walking over.

“Hey, cowboy.”

“Zoey. I didn’t know you were back in town.”

“Pulled in yesterday afternoon.” She looks me over appreciatively. “Looking good. Missing the cowboy hat, though.”