Page 41 of Branded

Lennox swings down gracefully, leading Duchess to the creek to drink. I do the same with Cisco, then loosen both cinches so the horses can relax. When I look up, Lennox is leaning against the oak, watching the creek.

“What are you thinking?” I ask.

“That this is the most at peace I’ve felt since I left Montana.” She doesn’t look at me. “On a horse, seeing the ranch. This feels right in a way nothing else has.”

“Even though it’s Texas instead of Montana?”

“Even though.” She finally turns to face me. “I know it was my choice to do what I did. But this”—she gestures to the land around us—“this makes it all seem right.”

I cross to her, closing the distance until I stand close enough to touch. “You belong here, Lennox. You understand this world, you speak this language.”

I brace one hand against the oak above her head, reaching up and tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ear, the quiet of the world around us giving me a moment to truly look at her. “Were you trying to impress me when you were assessing Maverick’s conformation? Talking about breeding programs and climate adaptation? Or was that you, actually engaging with something that matters to you?”

“It was real,” she admits. “But that doesn’t change what we are. What this is.”

“Maybe it doesn’t have to be only one thing.” I cup her face with my free hand, thumb brushing her cheekbone. “Maybe you can hate the circumstances and still find something real here?”

“Is that what you want? Something real?”

“I don’t know.” The honesty surprises me. “I wanted to possess you. Break you down and rebuild you into what I need. But now…”

“Now what?”

Instead of answering, I kiss her.

Not rough or demanding like the other times. This is slower, exploratory, learning the shape of her mouth instead of just taking it. She tenses briefly, but then her hands come up to my chest, fingers curling into my shirt, and she’s kissing me back.

When I pull back, her eyes are wide. “What was that all about?” she asks.

“Just getting to know my wife.” I kiss her again, softer this time. “The real one, not the performer.”

“I’m not sure I know the difference any more.”

“Then why don’t we figure it out together?” I move from her mouth to her jaw, her neck, finding the bite mark and kissing it gently instead. “You’re mine for two years, Lennox. We can spend this time at war, or we can find something else. Something that won’t feel like a prison sentence.”

“And what will that look like?”

“I don’t know yet.” I pull back to look at her. “But maybe it starts here. With horses, ranch land and conversations about cattle breeding. By figuring out the things we both care about instead of just what I can take from you.”

She studies my face for a long moment, and I can see the wheels turning. Trying to decide if this is another manipulation or if I mean it.

“I need time,” she says finally.

“We’ve got seven hundred and twenty-seven days.” I step back, giving her space. “We should head back. Mom will be wondering where we are, and I’d rather not deal with her interrogating us.”

Lennox pushes off the oak, and she slips her hand into mine as we head back to the horses. “Thank you,” she says. “For showing me the ranch. For letting me see the real thing, for allowing me to see you.” She turns away from me and tightens the cinch before swinging up onto Duchess’s back.

The softness of her tone as she thanks me makes something inside me leap. “You’re welcome,” I say, not pushing the moment as I swing up onto Cisco. “And Lennox, you ride well. Better than I expected.”

“Better than you?” She raises an eyebrow, challenge in her voice.

“We’ll see about that.” I urge Cisco into a trot. “Race you back to the main house.”

Her laugh is genuine, and she kicks Duchess into motion without hesitation. “You’re on.” She races past me, leaning over the neck of her horse low, riding like the wind. I catch up easily; Cisco and I are a team.

We gallop side by side, two people on good horses racing toward a place that isn’t quite home yet, trying to find something real in the middle of a transaction that started with a two-million-dollar price tag. And for the first time since the auction, I wonder if maybe, just maybe, I got more than I paid for.

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