“I think Frannie got bitten by a monster, but she’s a superhero and slayed the dragon with her knife,” Ronnie cuts in.
“Let’s go with that,” I utter in agreement. My fingers discreetly cross in hopes she won’t ask her dad for a blade.
Byron grunts. “Not how I would’ve described it.”
“Were you there, Daddy? Is that why your arm’s bleeding?”
That’s when I remember he’s raised her concern as well. There are four small gouges between his wrist and elbow. It’s almost as if someone with very sharp nails grasped onto himwith all their might while in the throes of passion. Satisfaction thrums through me—warm and potent and horribly misplaced. Shit.
“Just a scratch.” His rasp is soft, but there’s humor laced in the low notes.
“Did you wrangle a beast too?” I flutter my lashes in mock interest.
“She tried to buck me off, but I got the job done.”
My cheeks go up in flames, probably putting his other marks on display. That will only encourage him. If there were reins on Greta’s neck, I’d take my chances steering her away from this disaster.
Ronnie goes still suddenly, distracting me once again. The little girl’s eyes go wide and she crosses her legs. She clutches herself with an urgency we’ve all felt.
“I have to go potty! Daddy, you need to hold Greta.”
As if she’s going anywhere. I’m convinced this horse is part statue. But Byron dutifully takes his daughter’s spot by the horse’s head.
And then Ronnie is running off to the viewing spectator lounge built into the far end of the arena. The awareness that I’m alone with Byron clenches my inner muscles as if I haven’t had enough. I hiss at the twinge spreading from the sensitive area.
His brow lift. “Problem?”
My shoulders straighten. “You branded me.”
He tips the brim of his hat. “Ditto, darlin’.”
“Don’t even start with that.”
“How could I forget,” he chuckles. “You’re much more of a menace.”
“Which is one of the first things you ever said to me,” I recall absently.
“You remember?”
“My memory is still sharp at twenty-four. Don’t make a big deal about it.”
That smolder makes a captivating reappearance. The man can snatch the words straight from my mouth with that look alone. Maybe I didn’t notice before now or he hadn’t turned on the full force.
“But look how far we’ve come.” That fiery gaze centers on the hickeys adorning my neck. “There’s no question you’re mine.”
“Cool the obsession, stud. These are just hazards of hookups,” I sigh. “We’ll have to be more careful.”
“You’re saying there’s a next time?”
“No!” I blurt.
“Do you regret it?”
The truth tumbles off my tongue before I can consider lying. “Not even a little bit.”
He bites his bottom lip, dragging the plump flesh between his teeth. I almost whimper. My upper body most definitely leans forward, tipping me off balance. Greta doesn’t twitch as I pinwheel in the saddle.
Byron steadies me easily. “Don’t be reckless.”