Mandisa sat on her chaise lounge pretending to compile quarterly reports. The truth was she’d been reading the same set of numbers for the last three hours. Knowing a miscalculation would cost her company somewhere down the line, she shoved the papers aside and gave in to her need to obsess about the thing she was attempting to avoid.

Slade.

God, how she ached with need for him. Walking away from him, his family, his land had taken every drop of strength she’d had. Abstaining from picking up the phone to call him and see how he was doing was only possible because she exhausted herself with work.

Since returning, she’d set about restructuring her company. She’d given Kandi more responsibilities as executive manager. It was her job to oversee all the stores and their supervisors and staff. Mandisa kept an eye on things from a distance, but she no longer micromanaged every detail.

For the last three weeks, she’d spent her time in her lab, creating. The joy of working in her lab was the only thing that made her separation from Slade bearable. Getting lost in the science kept her afloat in the stormy sea of heartache.

Mandisa looked around the apartment she’d once adored, wondering why it didn’t feed her soul the way a beautiful patch of dirt in Austin, Texas did.

Her internal jaunt down misery lane was interrupted by the ringing of her cellphone. Mandisa reached for the phone, her hand hovering over the accept icon when she noticed the caller’s name.

“Mama Indy? I was just thinking about you.” It wasn’t a lie, not completely. Thinking about Slade meant thinking about everything and person she’d encountered on that ranch.

“That’s good to hear.” The old woman’s voice beamed with warmth. “That means I’m gonna live a long time.”

It was Mandisa’s sincerest wish. Living in a world where this woman didn’t exist wasn’t an idea Mandisa wished to entertain.

“I hope I’m not bothering you. But I just wanted to share something with you if you’ll let me. I promise it won’t take too long.”

“You take as long as you’d like, Mama Indy. How can I help you?”

“I was having a cup of coffee, and I got to thinking I’d never given you the recipe. I’d intended to give it to you before you left, but…”

Mandisa’s heart sank when she heard Indira’s voice trail off. The echo of pain in the air made her heart ache more.

“Mama Indy. Forgive me for asking, but did Slade put you up to this?”

“No, Slade wouldn’t ask me to share my secret with you. He knows that kind of trust has to be freely given.”

Mandisa wasn’t certain Slade understood that. However, she wasn’t about to disparage him to his mother. “You don’t have to do this. That secret is something that should stay in your family.”

Mandisa could hear a light chuckle over the line. “Baby, you are my family.”

Mandisa sat quiet, letting the power of Indira’s words surround her like a warm hug. In three weeks this proud but gentle old woman had reminded her how wonderful it was to be mothered again. The loss of that crippled Mandisa in ways she couldn’t verbalize.

Indira must have sensed Mandisa’s need for time to internalize her statement. A few moments passed before the matron began speaking again. “In the short time you were here, I watched you love my son like I’d always dreamed someone would love him. I make no secret that I hope y’all can smooth things out. But, whether you do or not, there will always be a home for you on this ranch. Family can always come home.”

What little resolve Mandisa possessed simply melted away. She wrapped her arm around her knees, pulling them to her chest, aching so desperately for Slade’s mama. When she was finally able to compose herself, hold her tears back enough to keep them out of her voice, she flipped one of the folders on the chaise over and grabbed a pen.

“All right, Mama Indy. I’ve got a pen. Tell me the recipe.”

A slight zing of excitement sparked a smile on Mandisa’s face. She was finally going to be able to satisfy her addiction to this woman’s coffee.

She listened carefully, too afraid to miss one detail. When Indira was finished dictating the grocery list, Mandisa was puzzled by what she saw.

“Whole beans, cinnamon, nutmeg, spring water. Is that it, or did I miss something, Mama Indy?”

“No baby, that’s it.”

“But that sounds pretty standard for any cup of coffee. There’s gotta be a secret ingredient.”

Mandisa could hear Indira chuckling on the other end of the phone. The sound was contagious, making Mandisa smile as she reveled in the reverberation.

“The special ingredient is love.”

“Love?” Mandisa was pretty certain she couldn’t find love on the shelf at the market.

“Yes, baby. Love makes everything in life better. See, the care you take when making something special for someone you love, that will make even the simplest of ingredients taste gourmet. I grind those beans, cinnamon, and nutmeg by hand. Yeah, I could get a machine to do it all for me, but it wouldn’t add that perfect blend that love does. When you love something, you have to tend to it to keep it strong.”

There was a lesson in there. It was glaringly obvious to Mandisa. She just wished she and Slade could’ve garnered this wisdom before everything fell apart.

She ended the call with Indira and transferred the ingredients to her shopping list app on her phone. First thing in the morning she was running to the market. If she couldn’t have Slade, his family, and the Havenheart ranch, Indira’s special blend of coffee wasn’t a bad consolation prize.

A tap on Mandisa’s door pulled her from her musings. She padded to the door in socked feet, asking who was there as she reached for the knob. Hearing, “Darlin’, it’s me,” coming from the other side of the door knocked the wind out of her.

She thought about pretending she wasn’t home. You already asked who was at the door. He knows you’re home, idiot.

She peeked through the peephole and saw a blurry version of the man she knew. She could feel excitement bubbling in her heart. But then reality reminded her why she’d been without Slade for so long.

“What do you want, Slade?”

“Darlin’, please, let me talk to you face-to-face. We can have this talk in the hall with your neighbors listening, but I’d rather talk privately. Please, let me in.”

It never failed. Every time she heard the word “darlin’” fall from his lips, it was like the sweet lure of honey. It was decadent, and something sticky that she couldn’t easily break free of.

She leaned her head against the door, touching it as if she could feel him on the other side. She’d craved him for so long. Knowing he was there, just beyond her reach, played havoc with her willpower.

Her mind told her to stay away from him, to keep her resolve. But her resolve reminded her of the cold, lonely bed waiting for her, the empty life she’d been living since she’d left the ranch, and the pain that followed her into her dreams every night.

You want him to make this right. If there’s even the slightest chance that he can, don’t you deserve that?

She felt a single tear singe the skin of her cheek as it made its trail down her face. She wiped it away and straightened her spine. She was right. This wasn’t about privileges Slade had earned. This was about what she wanted.

Being with him had shown Mandisa she should have someone love her completely. Yes, he’d screwed it up, and she didn’t see how he could fix it. But, hadn’t she warranted the chance to let him try? If he succeeded, it wasn’t just him winning. Her happiness was at stake too.

Why should she lose out because of his stupidity? Why should she allow herself to suffer just because Slade had channeled his inner asshole?

“You’d better not fuck this up, cowboy.”

She backed away, turning the locks and opening the door. Seeing him standing in her doorway dug up so many emotions. Anger was the loudest of them, causing her chest to rise and fall in a quick, heaving motion. She had to make a concerted effort to calm her breathing so she could hear herself think.

But then as he stepped into her apartment, and she allowed her gaze to settle on him, her anger began to bleed away and concern pushed its way through to the forefront of her heart.

His face was covered in scruff. Not the sexy beard kind of scruff. No, this kind indicated one couldn’t be bothered to worry about his appearance. His hair looked unkempt, wild without the infamous cowboy hat that always kept it in place. Her eyes met with his, and her breath caught for a long moment in the back of her throat. The electric blue she’d spent hours gazing into was replaced by a dull, almost gray color that paired perfectly with the sallow complexion he was sporting.

What the hell have you been doing to yourself, cowboy? How the hell does someone look so pale when they live on a ranch in Texas?

He rubbed his hand self-consciously down the front of his T-shirt. She remembered that shirt. Remembered peeling it off him when they’d made love in his hotel room. With all his muscles, it had been a second skin. The now slightly loose fabric no longer showed the definition of his chest.

“Slade. What’s going on? Why are you here? I thought we agreed—”

“You agreed, Mandisa. My guilt, my anger…I didn’t even show up to the discussion. Not like I should have.”

She waved him over to the eat-in counter in the kitchen. While he sat, she instinctively started looking for fixings for a quick meal. Loose clothing on a man that big was trouble. Something more than his feelings was hurting.

She pulled out a cutting board, grabbed a loaf of bread and the boneless barbequed ribs she had in the fridge.

“You don’t have to do that.” The softness of his voice stopped her movements. Her heart ached for the sadness she saw blanketing his face and hanging shoulders.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think Mama Indy stopped feeding you.”

He shook his head, dipping it a bit farther as a weak smile climbed his face. “No, Mama would be shoving food down my throat if I’d been near her. I’ve been at the loft in Austin since you left.”

“They don’t have food in Austin?”

He lifted a shoulder in a half-assed shrug as he adjusted the plate she’d set before him. “Yeah. I just haven’t felt like eating. Had a lot on my mind.”

She nodded her head and walked back to the fridge looking for something to drink. Water was a no-go. He needed calories, and probably some caffeine if the dark circles under his tired eyes were any indication.

She pulled out her stash of pineapple soda she kept pushed to the back of the fridge. She didn’t indulge often, but whenever she had a craving, it was cold, crisp, and ready to go. She popped the top of a can and slid it across the counter to him.

With a tilted head his eyes scanned the can, and then lifted to hers. “Pineapple soda? You are aware I’m well over the legal drinking age, right?”

“Yeah. But, the fact that you turned up on my doorstep looking like a scraggly throwaway tells me you probably need to switch to something with less alcoholic content.”

The paleness in his face gave way to a slight blush, confirming her suspicions he’d been drinking more of his meals than eating them.

“So, take a bite and unload. Why are you here, Slade?”

He took a large bite of the sandwich in his hands. His closed eyes sang his satisfaction, coupled with a deep hum emitting from between bites. Mandisa could tell the exact moment the flavor of the meat met his taste buds.

“God, that’s good. Tastes like—”

“Heaven? It’s my mom’s recipe.”

“I’ll deny it if you ever tell her, but these are better than my mama’s ribs.”

Mandisa could feel her pride swell and spill into a wide grin. He wasn’t lying. Her late mother taught her to make damn good ribs. She just hoped they were good enough to get him looking healthier.

She watched him clean his plate and finish his can of soda. When he was done, she put away the food and his dirty dish, then spread her hands wide on the countertop.

He must have recognized that she meant business, because he used a nearby paper towel to quickly wipe his mouth and fingers before turning to her and giving her his full attention.

“I was wrong, Mandisa. I thought I was doing what was best for you, but I was so wrong.”

He looked up expectantly from his seat, as if hoping for her to throw him some sort of lifeline. She said nothing, just remained standing on the other side of the counter, continuing to watch him.

“Bull met me in the parking lot earlier today. I thought he’d come to threaten me about the company. What he actually wanted was to see me in my misery. He told me he’d succeeded, because the bitterness of loss was what made him the man he turned out to be. Now he could rest easy, because I was turning in to a chip off the old block.”

She let out a slow breath through her nostrils, trying her best to release the weight of that statement. If it felt so heavy on her chest, she could only imagine the weight Slade must be carrying. Bearing a burden like that, recognizing the exact thing you hate in the mirror—it had killed lesser men.

From the moment she’d met Slade he’d been confident, so sure of himself and their connection that she’d had no choice but to follow him, to trust him. But seeing him here, with a dip in his shoulders and a sagging chin, all she saw was broken pieces of the man she loved.

“The moment he said it, I got why you left, Mandisa. Before that moment, I didn’t. I won’t even lie to you about that. But once I went home and tried to drink away all this hurt that’s been sitting in my chest, I understood. You didn’t want to watch me turn into that. You didn’t want to see me become him.”

He was right—watching him become bitter and callous wasn’t on her lists of things to do. When you’d had the opportunity to experience something beautiful and natural, you didn’t want to see how a poison like hate could mutate it.

“I know I fucked up. I know I was wrong. I know I don’t deserve another chance, but I’m asking for one anyway.”

She could see the spark of hopefulness trying to light behind his dim eyes. There was no doubt in her mind that he wanted this as badly as he did his next breath. But doubt plagued her. Her legacy had been threatened, and he’d hidden it from her. He’d lied by omission and attempted to play God with her livelihood. How were they supposed to come back from that?

The doubt clawing from her heart, out into her chest was trying to strangle her. But even though she was so overwhelmed by it, every cell in her body begged for her to give in.

She loved Slade, probably from the first time he’d traced his lips across hers in that lounge. Spending time at his ranch had ingrained him in her system. She hadn’t thought about the cost of loving him then, but now, those consequences were all she could think about.

“Mandisa? Darlin’, you haven’t given me an answer.”

How could she give him an answer when she couldn’t produce one for herself?

Everything from the independent woman doctrine said when your man fucked up, you sent him packing. Breaking things off with Slade had been a knee-jerk reaction that felt expected in the moment. But, if she were honest, she’d never been at ease with it. How could she be when it was as if she was tearing off a piece of her body?

Was it weak to want to forgive the error of the person you loved, just so you could love them again? Was this the part where she was supposed to hole up in a room with a bunch of bitter Betties who would praise her for humiliating him and sending him on his way? Or was there the slightest bit of strength in forgiveness?

Too tired to continue the spiritual battle going on inside her, she stepped around the counter and walked into his arms. He wrapped himself around her, and she cradled his head on her shoulder and stroked it until the tenseness in his body seeped away.

“You look tired.”

She felt him nod slightly against her shoulder. “I haven’t slept well since you left.”

She felt the truth of his statement. This wasn’t just a line. Slade might have been a cowboy, but he was a pretty one. This disheveled thing he had going on was not his style. He was off his game, and she knew it was the tension between them at the root of it.

“I am too. It’s late. Why don’t we get some rest?”

She kissed the top of his head and held him close. Loving the feel of him in her arms, worried about how frail and raw he seemed.

“I don’t have any answers for you right now, Slade.” She leaned back, pulling out of his embrace so she could see his eyes. “Tonight, I just want to sleep, holding you. I want to know you’re all right.”

An open mouth and quickly moving eyes prepared her for his argument. But halfway between the words forming on his lips and his next breath, he closed his eyes and simply nodded.

He followed her down the hall to her bedroom. She asked him to sit on her foot bench, and unzipped and removed his boots and socks. When she stood, she ran gentle fingers up the length of his torso and pulled at the loose-fitting fabric of his shirt.

Next, she placed her hand on the wide belt buckle at his waist. Loosening it, popping the button on his jeans, and pushing them down his lean hips brought about more concern for him. A chill ran through her when she felt how prominent the bones were there. Slade didn’t carry a lot of fat, but he had so many muscles, feeling bone on him was jarring.

She led him to the side of the bed, pulling the covers back, and motioned for him to lie down. When he did, she gave his arm a gentle squeeze and walked over to her dresser. She opened the top drawer and removed the glass jar she’d placed there three weeks ago when she’d left him on his ranch.

Standing next to him again, she sat on the edge of the bed, opening the jar, placing its lid safely on the nightstand.

“I made this for you right before everything blew up in our faces.” She passed the opened jar beneath her nose and deeply inhaled the fragrant scent. “I chose sandalwood as the base scent, because it reminded me of you. Sweet enough to make life pleasant, strong enough to handle its ups and downs.”

She removed a healthy dollop of the whipped body butter and placed the jar next to its lid on the nightstand. Rubbing her hands together, she placed her coated palms on his chest and kneaded the moisturizer into his skin.

He was silent the entire time she rubbed him down, but she could feel the weight of his gaze on her as she paid deft attention to each section of skin she caressed.

She couldn’t tell Slade how she felt, couldn’t explain how seeing him so brittle and fragile made her want to care for him. She couldn’t risk her words getting in the way, couldn’t allow her ego to push him away, even though it was probably what he deserved. In this moment, the only thing she could do was take care of him.

She’d only finished his torso when she heard even breaths coming from him. He was in that strange place between sleep and wakefulness where his eyes were almost completely closed, only opening in slits when he felt himself falling to sleep.

She smiled to herself. She’d also placed chamomile in the body butter. In Slade’s weakened state, the natural sleep aid took effect quickly. She rubbed the remainder of the body butter into his skin and closed the lid before she walked to the other side of the bed and climbed in beside him.

Almost instinctively, it seemed, he pulled her next to him. His arm around her waist, his legs tangled up in hers, his head burrowed on the pillows of her breasts. It felt calming, familiar, her senses relaxing into the remembered routine. Her mind shutting out the rest of the world, enjoying the safety of this familiar embrace.

With one last pass of her fingers through his wavy hair, Mandisa smiled as she kissed the top of his head. She may not have had any answers, but tonight, she’d have peace.

* * *

Slade felt the familiar heat of Mandisa’s body against his.

He’d dreamt about her every night since she’d gone. Dreamt of feeling her beneath his fingers, of tasting the sweetness of her flesh again.

He let gentle fingers slide from her legs, up the curve of her ass until he reached the dip in the small of her back. She pressed the heat of her cunt against his aching cock. His tip, already leaking with need, throbbed as she canted her hips toward him.

Slade raised his head from the cradle of her breasts, decorating the skin on her neck with feather-like kisses that pulled sultry moans from her lips.

He was a man who enjoyed his sex just as feisty and energetic as the next man. But there was something about the subtle touches being shared in this moment that had him so hot, so turned on he could hardly think straight.

He pulled away from her briefly, just to savor the beauty of her desire. Her eyes closed, mouth slack and begging to be kissed, breath coming in heavy huffs. How could he have been foolish enough to do anything to push her away?

He brushed one of her long braids out of her face and let his thumb pass over the rise of her rounded cheek. When coal-black eyes opened to him, her desire shining in them like stars in the midnight sky, his mouth descended on hers, pressing until her lips parted, and she welcomed his tongue inside.

She tasted just as he remembered—warm, sweet, sexy, so full of need she took his breath away.

He let one of his hands travel down between their bodies, pushing between her legs and moaning his pleasure when he found her folds dripping with desire.

“God, you’re so wet.”

He licked his finger, reveling in the taste of her. He kissed her, sharing her essence with her as he returned his finger to her entrance and slowly slid it inside. He couldn’t help the broad smile pulling at his lips when the hungry sounds of her satisfaction attempted to escape into the air. He swallowed those sounds. Keeping his lips fastened to hers, his tongue licking in and out of her mouth, nothing could pass between. Those sounds were his, and he’d been starved for weeks. He needed them.

He removed his finger, using his hands to spread her thighs wider. He may have lost some of his muscle, but there still was enough of him left that he needed space to work. He ground against her cunt, enjoying the slick heat of her juices wetting the soft fabric of his boxer briefs.

He wanted so desperately to be free of the material. In previous dreams, every time he broke away from her, he’d wake up, and she’d be gone. This morning he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t let her slip through the ether of his mind. He needed to feel her warmth, her touch, her desire for just a little bit longer.

She must have sensed his dilemma. She smoothed quick hands down his flanks, pushing the fabric below the curve of his ass. A relieved sigh escaped his lips as his rigid cock sprang free. The two of them shimmied around the bed until his boxer briefs were off and he was resting gently in her slit.

Fire burned through him, he was so close. The closest he’d been in weeks to joining their bodies together. It didn’t matter one bit that this was a dream. If he couldn’t have her in life, dreaming of moments like this would have to be enough to get him through his otherwise mundane existence.

He lifted himself just slightly, ready to position himself to enter her when he felt the stiff coolness of a foil wrapper being pressed into his hand.

“Hang on, cowboy. You forgot something.”

He opened his eyes, looking at her for what felt like the longest time, even though he was sure it was mere seconds. She was lovely, so full of life, so real.

Too real.

“Mandisa?”

Bright, chocolate eyes lit up at the sound of her name, full lips pulled into a perfect bow. Could his memories, his dreams be this vivid?

“Please tell me you’re real.”

She took the condom, opened it, and slid it down his hard length, making him bite the inside of his mouth to keep from losing his control.

Sliding her closed fist up and down and applying pressure, she created the perfect amount of friction for him to fuck against. When he began moving his hips in earnest, she pressed her free hand against his hip, stopping his motions, and led him by the cock to her entrance.

“Is this real enough for you?”

She pulled him inside, and he fell into her depths willingly. He moved his cock in and out of her sheath, desperately trying to bury himself within her. The feel of his balls slapping her ass, the sizzle of fire that slid up his spine every time he felt her walls clamp down around him, edged him closer and closer to his end.

Lightheaded from pleasure overload, he gathered as much strength as he could, cradling her head and turning them until he was resting against the pillows, and she was seated deliciously on his cock.

He grabbed a handful of her ass and pulled forward, encouraging her to ride him.

“Fuck me,” he whispered as he swiped his thumb across her bottom lip. She licked it, sucking it into her mouth and moaning as she swiveled her hips.

He pushed his thumb between her silky folds, moving it in a circular motion until it scraped across her clit.

She howled, bucking forward as if electricity were zipping through her body. He kept rubbing that spot, increasing the speed and pressure of his digit with each pass. Between the vise-like grip her pussy walls had on his cock and the decadent sounds she was making every time he rubbed her clit, this was going to be over soon.

The sound of her skin slapping against his had his nuts inching up. His body was ready to explode. His finger swiped once, then twice more against her clit, her muscles spasmed, and she splintered into pieces around him, screaming his name as her climax spilled over her.

He tumbled over immediately after her, locking his fingers with hers, needing an anchor to hold on to. When he’d trickled the last drop of cum into the condom, he collapsed against the cushion of the pillows, pulling her down to rest on his chest.

He held her there, allowing the quiet to soothe them both. He stroked the smooth skin of her hand, bringing it to his lips to kiss gently.

“I don’t ever want to be without you, Mandisa. This is the first time in weeks I’ve felt…alive.”

She closed her eyes as he spoke, turning her face away from him. It could have been simply because she was tired after their lovemaking. But, it felt more like avoidance, as if she’d closed a door in his face.

“Mandisa?”

“Slade. You asked me to give you another chance last night. The truth is, I don’t know if I can.”

He attempted to sit up, but she kept her weight pressed against him so he’d remain lying down.

“Mandisa, I know I made you mad. I know I deserve your anger. I promise you I will never act the ass like that again. Believe me, darlin’. I don’t want to be without you.”

“Slade, you certainly did make me mad. But anger wouldn’t’ve made me walk away from you.”

Slade pulled shaking fingers through his hair, then scrubbed his palm down the length of his face. She was here, lying in his arms. They’d just made love. He’d felt every moment of her heart beating in unison with his. How could she still be uncertain?

“Last night was the first good sleep I’ve had in weeks, darlin’. Head’s a lil’ fuzzy. You’re gonna have to break this down for me, nice and slow.”

He felt himself flush as he heard his twang fill the air. Usually he played the good Southern cowboy to entertain her. But this wasn’t an act. When he was worried—and right now he was deathly afraid of losing his heart—sometimes his Texas slipped through his defenses, and he started sounding more ranch hand than executive.

“Slade, when you sat in your office and told me what Bull and Macy did to you, you wounded me. I saw how much that pain affected you. More than a decade later, and you still bore the trauma of those scars.

“Knowing what they did to you, it hurt me. And to get back at the monster that caused you so much pain, you allowed your fear to turn you into him. Before my eyes, you became the man who’d hurt me most, because he’d hurt the man I loved. It would have destroyed me to watch you change completely into Bull, so I left.”

Slade stilled beneath her touch. The guilt of her words pressed him down into the mattress, rendering him paralyzed beneath her as she continued to speak. He’d been so angry when they’d first argued and upset she couldn’t see his perspective. The truth he was too proud to see then was crashing down over him right now. She’d loved him too much to watch him destroy himself, and he’d let her walk away as a reward.

“I don’t think I could sit around and watch you become that monster, Slade. It would break me.”

“It will never happen again, Mandisa.”

“But that wasn’t our only problem, Slade. There was the little issue of you thinking my work didn’t meet the same level of importance as yours.”

He shook his head and threw up his hands in mock surrender.

“That wasn’t exactly true, darlin’.”

“Slade, it is true. I want to get past this. I want to wake up like we did today, cocooned in one another’s arms. But I’m not sure we’ll be able to get beyond our hurdles.”

He laced his fingers between her braids and brought her mouth down to his. Things worked much better for them when they expressed their feelings through touch. Words just seemed to muddy the waters between them.

“I promise you, I will do anything I need to, anything you ask, to make this right.”

She passed her gaze slowly across his face as if she were looking for the truth in his words. He placed her hand on his heart, hoping she understood his promise was made from love, and not the words he’d used to express it.

Slowly, he saw a spark of something devilish in her eyes, a sexy twinkle that made his recently spent cock toy with the possibility of getting hard again.

“Anything?” The cocky lift of her brow gave him a brief pause. But even the slight whiff of concern that fanned across his senses couldn’t make him deny her.

“Anything you want, darlin’.”

“I want three weeks.” Now he was intrigued. Before he could speak she placed a silencing finger across his lips and continued. “I want you to spend three weeks in Brooklyn, seeing what it is I actually do for a living, for my community. After that time, if I can see that you have an appreciation for the work I do, I’ll give us another chance.”

A broad grin swept against his mouth as he considered her request. “How will you be able to determine I’ve learned my lesson?”

She pushed her hand between them and cupped the growing bulge of his cock. “Don’t worry, I have my ways.”

Her ways hadn’t disappointed him yet, that was certain. But considering everything they’d just been through, he wasn’t sure if taking this bet was wise.

“You know how much I like to win, darlin’. It might not be such a good idea to enter into another wager considering how badly the last one blew up in our faces.”

“What’s the matter, cowboy? You scared you’ll lose?”

He watched her smile light up her face as she used his words against him. Her smile shone until he could feel its warmth burrowing beneath his skin, directly to his heart. This woman was his lifeline, the only cure for the pain he’d carried around for so many years. Wasn’t she worth everything? Weren’t they worth everything?

She was throwing him a line. All he had to do was look beyond his doubts and grab hold of it.

“So what’s your answer, cowboy?”