Finally, she spoke. "Getting you kicked off the tour for cheating sounds like something that Octavia, or those other two cowboys would do. Why are you so sure it wasn't them?"

Her question shocked him, making him realize that she hadn't even bothered to wonder about his innocence. She'd accepted it automatically, and had already moved on to figuring out who might have done it. She believed his innocence. Sudden emotion rushed through him, a surging turmoil of feelings, and a tightness in his chest. "Because Jesse was convinced it was attempted murder. Murder is different than cheating. Octavia and the others want money, not blood on their hands. They wouldn't do it."

Noelle heard the conviction in his voice, and her heart ached for him. He wanted to believe in Octavia, in the men who were his peers. Despite all the betrayal, both by Octavia and the tour, Wyatt needed to prove to himself he hadn't been completely wrong in believing in them at one time.

She wanted him to be right, but at the same time, she'd written too many mysteries not to know that the most devastating betrayal possible was by those you loved, those you believed in the most. Yeah, in fiction that was the best kind of bad guy to write, but in real life, it happened as well, much too often.

"You believe me, don't you?" His question was quiet, almost a whisper, a question he didn't really want to ask, that he was half hoping she didn't hear.

She heard. Not only did she hear the question he posed, but she also heard the yearning in his soul, the one that needed someone to believe in him. So, she twisted around in the saddle and looked at him, at his icy blue eyes, at the shadows on his face. She saw the man who lived with honor, who had fought for everything against the shadows that weren't his. Her heart turned over, and she set her hands on either side of his face. "I have absolutely no doubt that you are a man of integrity and honor. I don't believe for even a second that you cheated. We'll figure out what happened, and we will clear your name. For good."

He searched her face. "It's impossible to clear my name for good," he said. "It's too tainted. But I'm not walking away. People think I shouldn't ride this weekend, that I shouldn't be back. Screw that. I'm back." But his voice was tense, too tense, and she knew what he was thinking.

"But you can't get your groove, right? Like I can't find my muse?"

He sighed. "Yeah. I need to win the next three events to have a shot at winning the title."

"Which will shut them all up, right?"

He laughed. "Yeah, well, something like that."

"You can't find your rhythm, and I can't find my muse, and we both desperately need to." She settled back against him, sounding thoughtful. "Maybe we were meant to find each other and help each other pull our talents out of the swamp they've sunk into."

Wyatt rested his chin on her shoulder, thinking about that as they neared the ranch. "So, solving my attempted murder might help us both. You can turn my life into a best-selling novel, and I can be freed from the burden and focus on riding, not the bullshit."

"Maybe." She ran her hands over his wrists, feeling lighter than she had in a long time. "I'm not going to lie. In a weird, kind of macabre sort of way, I think the idea of solving your almost murder sounds like fun. But I'm an author, so I'm totally weird and insane like that."

He laughed. "Yeah, well, I'm a bull rider, so I'm off the charts mentally anyway. You have to be to ride." He held out his hand to her. "Let's make a deal. Let's channel our insanity, find the scumbag who tried to get me killed, and then go kick some ass in our professional careers. Deal?"

She set her hand in his, feeling happier than she had in a long time. "I can't believe you aren't horrified by how much fun I think this sounds."

"I can't believe you aren't horrified by the fact you're riding a horse with a guy who has a murderer hunting him, who plans to go against all common sense and ride bulls for the next month just so he can get a shot at a title no one wants him to have."

She smiled as they touched hands. "I was kind of horrified that you were willing to risk death when I first met you–"

"You mean, about an hour ago?"

She laughed. "Yes, about then. I was kind of horrified because I spent three years watching my husband die a horrible death, but I see now that it's your fire and your willingness not to care about death that makes you live." She ran her hand over his wrist, noting how freaking strong it was. He was strong because he wasn't afraid to die, to fail, to crash and burn. "To really live, you have to let the fire inside you burn, don't you?"

She felt his nod against her shoulder, as he flipped her hand over and enfolded it in his. "Yeah, you do. If you kill the fire that makes you who you are, you're dead already. Even if the rest of the entire damn world thinks you should shut it down, you still gotta go forward."

Her heart tightened at his words, and she suddenly realized that that was exactly what she had done for so long. She'd been afraid to live, afraid to be happy, afraid to dance in her life, afraid that to do so would insult David, what he'd gone through, what he'd suffered. How could she be happy when he was gone? When he had suffered? When his brother was teetering on the edge?

God, she wanted to live with fierce passion. She wanted to not worry or obsess about how things might turn out. She wanted to unleash the fire that she'd killed off so long ago. She wanted to not be afraid to be who she was anymore. Ever.

"Barn's up ahead." He pointed past her, and she looked ahead to see two large barns in front of her. Both looked like they'd been well-used, with their faded wood and peeling paint, but they looked sturdy and solid. Functional, not flashy, and she liked them. It felt more her than spending her nights in a fancy restaurant, worrying about whether the linens had been properly pressed, or whether the food was plated with enough aplomb to make even the most discerning diner sigh with appreciation.

She didn't want fancy plates. She didn't care. She wanted fire and life and passion.

"The barn on the left, the big one, is for the bulls. Bunny has a small breeding operation, but she has two great bulls that are turning out some great stock. The barn on the right is for the horses. Can't have a ranch without horses, right?" As he spoke, he turned his head toward the destination in question. "See the house on the hill? That's Bunny's place. That's where you'll be."

Noelle looked up the hill at the white ranch house perched above the barns. It was also old and somewhat faded, but there were brightly colored flowers decorating it. It was a small ranch house, with a huge deck on the right side, looking over the property, including both barns and the two corrals up ahead. She imagined herself sitting out there with her computer, and something softened inside her. Something that felt good. Something that felt strong. Something that felt like her. "It's perfect," she whispered.

"Perfect?" Wyatt peered past her, frowning. He'd never considered the house as anything other than a functional building. He narrowed his eyes, trying to see what had put that reverence in Noelle's voice. "The flowers?"

"Everything." Her fingers tightened around his wrists. "I love it. I love this whole place. It's amazing."

Now, that, he understood. He looked across the property as he directed his horse to the barn. He'd spent many, many hours on that property, helping out Bunny, making sure things ran correctly. The place was a nugget, a sliver of gold that just needed the right hand to make it happen. For a split second, he thought of Brody's comment that he should take over when Bunny sold it, but he quickly dismissed it.

He was a bull rider, and he needed to be free to do what he did best, not bound to a ranch that would trap him. So, he simply shrugged. "Yeah, it's a good place."

"Good? It's great." Her voice faded as they neared the barn. "Where do you stay?"

Wyatt nodded to the northwest. "Bunk house behind the bull barn."

She looked over at it, and he followed her glance to the small, two room building. It was small, simple, spartan. Took care of his needs just fine. But as he looked at it, he had a sudden vision of Noelle walking in there, of the way that she would light up that place, making the old building start to breathe in a way it hadn't breathed in a very long time.

Shit. He wanted her, didn't he? He didn't just want her. He needed her. He needed her light. Her energy. Her lack of judgment. He needed the way she made him feel, like he was the breath that made her heart beat.

Bunny would kick his ass if he messed with her guest. Swearing, he directed Lightning into the barn, tightening his arm around Noelle's waist as they rode straight in. He needed to get off that horse, get Noelle up to the house, and disentangle himself from the spell she was casting on him.

He reined his mount to a halt, then swung his leg back to dismount, wanting nothing more than to get away from the temptation that Noelle posed...because a deeper part of him didn't want to move away from her for even a second.

His boots thudded on the wood floor, and he instinctively reached up to help her down. He caught her around the waist as she slid off, steadying her as she lost her balance. Her hips were warm and curvy beneath his palms, and temptation coursed through him.

Swearing, he dropped his hands and stepped back just as she turned to face him. Her cheeks were glistening with rain, her hair plastered to her head, her face pale from the cold. But it was her eyes, always her eyes, that caught his attention. He swore, and moved a step toward her, just enough to trace his fingers along her jaw. "Your eyes are incredible. So much sadness, so much strength, so much courage. So much...realness."

She looked up at him, not moving away from him. "I've felt numb for so long," she whispered, "but in such a short time, you've made my heart start to beat again. I feel like I'm coming to life again, or maybe for the first time ever." She put her hand on his, holding his fingers to her face. "Thank you for that, Wyatt."

He laughed softly. "Sweetheart, you're restoring my faith in humanity. I'm the one who owes you." His smile faded as his gaze settled on her face. The air between them seemed to thicken, and suddenly he knew that despite his best intentions, he was going to kiss her.

Right then.

Right there.

Regardless of whether it was the proper thing to do.

He was going to kiss her, because he was pretty damn certain that if he didn't, his heart would never beat right again.