Page 63 of Roping My Rival

“I eat peanut butter sandwiches because it’s affordable. One jar and a loaf of bread can stretch. I…” He swallows, and I’m hanging on every single word from his lips. “I don’t have a lot of money, Warren. Every dime is important.”

“I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. I just want to feed you.”

Dane lifts his head, and I inhale sharply at the sadness in his gaze. He stands and slowly walks over to take his place. After he surveys all the dishes, he huffs a laugh. “There’s no way we’re both eating all this. You know that, right?”

“I think you don’t know my love of Thai food, then. I’m a bottomless pit for this stuff.”

Finally, he relaxes and picks up the plastic fork.

“Okay then. Tell me where to start.”

For the next hour, we talk like it’s a real date. Dane loves shrimp more than chicken and prefers a sweet sauce over a hot sauce. At one point, I stared at him like he was an alien, because that’s what it felt like. The man who liked to poke me a little too hard when I lost and genuinely acted like a prick isn’t like that at all.

He’s possibly the most incredibly sweet man I’ve ever known.

“So, what’s with the rabbit tattoo?” he asks as we settle on our beds with full bellies. “I wanted to ask you last time, but…” He clears his throat.

“Well, it’s a little embarrassing,” I admit.

“Warren, it can’t be more embarrassing than me crying on your chest. There’s no way a rabbit tattoo can be as sad as my story.”

He’s right. This is insignificant. Especially after what happened to his sister.

“My 4H project has always been a rabbit. But as you know, you’re not supposed to keep the animal.” My hand strokes my shoulder where my tattoo sits. “My, ah, first foster home was shitty…they sold my bunny without telling me and it was devastating to me. That rabbit was my only friend.”

“I’m sorry,” Dane whispers. “That’s fucking cruel.”

“It was. So I brought a picture to a tattoo artist and asked if he could do it. I was barely 16, but my dad, Hunter, gave me permission because the guy said I needed to be 18. So it’s my bunny that was the best bunny ever. I wanted to make sure she was never forgotten, you know?”

Nothing screams big, tough tie-down roping cowboy like a rabbit tattoo on your biceps. A cute one too. All floppy ears and a little nose, but I didn’t care then, and I don’t care now.

“What was her name?”

“My bunny?”

“Yeah.”

Sighing, I turn my head on my pillow and find Dane watching me. He’s not teasing me, and I wish we hadn’t spent all these years being dicks to each other.

“Don’t laugh. I called her Bun-bun.”

His lips press together as he fights a laugh, and I roll my eyes before turning my head away from him.

“No, I’m not laughing at you. It’s just…that’s so fucking cute, Warren.” A rustle of blankets followed by a body settling on top of me makes my head spin. “You have a big heart.”

Dane brushes a thumb across my cheek, wiping up a lone tear.

“So do you.”

He wants to argue. I see the storm in his eyes, unable to accept compliments or let people know who he is. It’s the same look I saw in the mirror years ago.

Instead of pushing back, he lowers his mouth to mine and kisses me.

Warren shouldn’t be so kind.

Or kissable.

Fuck, he’s so sweet, and I know his life wasn’t roses. I made far too many assumptions about him, but I can’t help wanting to feel the affection that he offers me so freely. I don’t deserve it, but it soothes me in ways I don’t understand.