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“I’m not going anywhere,” she promises.
She settles against my pillow, leaning her head back against the headboard. I let my eyes wander down the side of her face, inspecting her profile. She has long lashes, a cute little nose, and full pink lips that need to be bitten.
“Can you sleep?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “I’m not a good napper. I’ll just stay awake.”
I lean over, reaching for the remote on my nightstand. I turn on the TV, which immediately starts showing the last thing I watched—an old Western movie with John Wayne, Angel and the Badman. I place the remote on the covers between us.
“Watch something.”
She grabs the remote, turning the volume down. “Have you slept since Friday?”
“A few hours.”
She bites her bottom lip, and I groan. My emotions are out in the open right now as the mental exhaustion tears down my defenses. My fingers squeeze her hand tighter as I pull her body closer to mine. I don’t stop until she’s forced to lie right next to me, her hip bone next to my forehead and her thigh pressing against my shoulder.
“Why do you have to be so tempting all the damn time, angel?” I tilt my body toward her, my arm curling around both her legs so that I’m snuggling her lower half while she sits up.
“Just to torture you, I guess,” she mumbles.
Ain’t that the truth?
I close my eyes, letting sleep take me under.
23
ROSIE
“Why do you have to be so tempting all the damn time, angel?”
My mind swirls with a mix of giddy excitement, anxiety, and overall confusion. Holden has never called me anything other than by my last name, Dixon, which he associates with my father and uncle.
I look down at the sleeping cowboy in my lap. His biceps and shoulder muscles are taut as he curls his arm around my legs, effectively holding me in place on his bed. There’s a jagged one-inch scar between the muscles I’ve never noticed before. My fingers reach out to trace it softly. He doesn’t stir, still passed out. My hand moves up to the scar on his jawline that I stitched up. My finger traces the pink line, where it’s still healing.
Footsteps sound in the hallway, soft enough that they must belong to Dolly. I nibble my bottom lip, hoping that she’s not looking for me. We generally do our own thing in the afternoons—at least until it’s time to prepare for dinner.
Holden’s warm body is making me feel sleepy. It’s like when we’re in his bed, we reach a truce. He doesn’t hate me here because he needs me to sleep.
Why that is, I’m still scrambling to understand. I’m assuming it’s something to do with his time in prison.
Nightmares maybe?
Him waking up and immediately holding a knife to my throat makes me think he was attacked in his sleep a lot.
But then wouldn’t he want to sleep alone, with the door locked?
None of it makes any sense, and I highly doubt he’s ever going to share with me why. I’ve already saved up enough money to start nursing school. If I keep sleeping with him at this rate and save every dime, I might be able to work less hours at the ranch and focus on school.
My phone buzzes in my back pocket. I pull it out, seeing my aunt June’s name with a text icon.
Aunt June
No one has heard from her. I think it’s time we file a missing person report. I’m getting on a plane this afternoon. Can you meet me tonight?
My pulse quickens. Cold fear filters through me, sending tremors through my body. My fingers fly across the screen as I text her back.
Rosie
