Page 27 of Wild Highway (Runaway 2)

It was too late for an apology. I didn’t trust her, not after she’d snuck out of my bed and disappeared without so much as a word. All because she’d wanted to strike it rich.

“Keep up,” I barked, pulling down the brim of my hat a fraction of an inch. Then I urged Jigsaw faster.

Today wasn’t Gemma’s first time on a horse. She didn’t need to be coddled. She was doing just fine walking, so we’d trot for a bit and put an end to this conversation.

The asshole who’d been pissed at her for eleven years wanted her to falter. To get scared and beg to slow down. To dent her confidence as way of punishment.

But I wasn’t a complete asshole and when she stayed right by my side, actually seeming to enjoy the faster clip, another surge of pride swelled.

Gemma wasn’t scared of anything, least of all me or a gentle horse.

She relaxed into the saddle, finding her rhythm with Sprite’s, and by the time we made it through the loop and back to the stables, Gemma looked damn good on that horse.

Too good.

Her hair swung as she rode. Her thighs flexed and her breasts bounced. There was a peach flush to her cheeks and an added sparkle in her eyes. She looked beautiful. Satisfied.

Hell. What if she’d actually enjoyed herself and wanted to do this every day? I was on the lesson schedule all week.

The cool edge to the fall weather had been burned off by the bright morning sun, and the horses were panting by the time we walked them into the arena. I hopped off Jigsaw first, then took Sprite’s reins from Gemma to hold them while she dismounted.

She gripped the horn, shifted in the saddle, then swung her right leg up and over. She swayed on the ground but found her balance. Her hands were shaking and there was a bead of sweat by her temple.

I really was a dickhead, pushing her so hard. She might have liked it, but I’d still gone too far.

Before I could apologize, Gemma took Sprite’s reins from my hand and forced a too-wide smile. “That was fun. I forgot how much I liked it here. Maybe I’ll take Katherine up on her offer to stay a while.”

My eyes narrowed, the apology forgotten. “What offer?”

“To stay in the guest bedroom at Cash and Katherine’s place. I’m in no hurry to get to California. So maybe I’ll stay.”

I scoffed. “You’ll make it a week, maybe two before you get bored.”

“You’re so sure you know me. That you have me pegged.” Her eyes blazed defiance. “But you don’t know shit.”

“Oh, I know you. Intimately.” I inched closer, the smell of her perfume hitting my nose. She held my gaze by raising her chin higher. Those luscious lips right there, positioned and ready for the taking.

If I kissed her, would she kiss me back? Or would I see the Cadillac’s taillights racing toward the highway by supper?

“What do you want from me, Easton?”

For you to get the hell out of my head. “I want you to leave. You don’t fit here.”

I’d expected a snarky comeback. More of that stubborn, infuriating attitude that clearly hadn’t changed in the years she’d been away. But something flashed in her eyes that looked a lot like sorrow.

/> She dropped her chin and unlocked her gaze, turning to stare off into the distance. “Maybe you’re right. I’m not sure where I fit.”

Her words were no more than a whisper, but they sent me rocking on my heels.

Gemma brushed past me, leading Sprite to the stables.

Son of a bitch. This wasn’t my problem. If this road trip was Gemma’s way to find herself, more power to her. She. Is. Not. My. Problem. So why wouldn’t my heart climb down from my throat?

I gripped Jigsaw’s reins and he followed me without hesitation into his stall.

Gemma was standing in Sprite’s stall, pointing to the saddle. “What should I do?”

“I’ll take care of it.”