Page 45 of Roped in Rawhide

But as my anger cools, a familiar ache throbs in my chest. My posture curls inward to protect against the harmful judgment she spewed at me. I hate that a stranger has the ammunition to ruin my good mood. Emotion bubbles to the surface and I swipe at a lone tear that escapes.

Chance reappears at that moment, screeching to a halt after a quick glance at my face. “What’s wrong?”

My inhale hitches and I shove the anguish into a dark corner where it belongs. The grin that follows is a tad weak, but I’m a pro at faking it. This was nothing more than a reminder that people can be shitty.

“I was lonely.” Which isn’t a lie. Loneliness has plagued me for years.

His brow furrows. “Was I gone that long?”

“Felt like forever,” I complain.

He plops down on his chair, sliding a can of bomb pop soda into my cup holder. There are two more where that one came from. Those go in the cooler for later.

“Sorry, baby.” His smirk exposes that endearing dimple. “You can hitch a ride on my back next time.”

“Just might take you up on that.”

Chance winks and the flirty gesture puts me at ease. “I’ve got a wiener with your name on it.”

My eyes bug out. “Excuse you?”

He passes me a recognizable object wrapped in tinfoil. “Your hot dog.”

Laughter sputters out of me. “Ah, yes. I can’t wait to shove this juicy sausage in my mouth.”

His gulp is audible. “Can I watch?”

“If you behave.” Except when I peel at the tinfoil, the poor thing is naked. “No barbecue sauce or relish?”

Chance tries to thump his forehead, but knocks the cowboy hat off his head instead. The smirk he gives me next is a tease. “As if I could forget that unique combo.”

My heart nearly bursts when he digs packets of both condiments from his pocket. He remembers the strange duo I put on my hot dog. A warm sting blurs my vision and I’m about to cry again. This man is dismantling my resolve, but I’m not afraid of it in this instance.

“Hey, Bronc?” I beckon after dressing my food and setting it aside.

His own can of soda pauses in midair halfway to his mouth. “Did I miss something else?”

“Yes.” I crook my finger, reeling him in. “Kiss me.”

Chance abandons his drink, almost spilling it on the table. His palm is cool when he cups my cheek. I nuzzle into his touch, which incinerates his expression. That hooded smolder sets me on fire and I gasp. He swoops in, pressing his lips against mine. We exchange a breathy sigh. It’s a quick peck that burns with significance. This is how it should’ve always been.

After treating his bottom lip to a fast swipe of my tongue, I’m severing the heat of the moment. “Thank you.”

He bumps my nose with his. “What was that for?”

I smile against the stubble on his jaw. “Just because.”

Chance leans back to catch my stare. “Are you happy?”

My nod is automatic. “And the best is yet to come.”

“Oh?”

I point to the darkening sky while my pulse gallops to a giddy beat. “The fireworks will start soon.”

“Right.” The sparkle in his faithful stare dims slightly. “It’s your favorite.”

His fingers stretch before he puts his palms flat on the top of his thighs. He clenches his hands against his legs, calms, and then repeats the motion. While I eat my hot dog, Chance seems to be chewing on some invisible force. I watch as he simmers quietly. After I’ve finished my food and soda, he’s still tense. It prompts me to take action.