Page 250 of Josephine and Clay

I’m half convinced the neighbors are going to call the cops, or maybe just take notes.

My knees go numb from kneeling on the mattress. She locks her ankles behind me, and her cunt clamps down with impossible force. For a wild moment, the world whites out. I let go, a wave of heat firing up my spine, everything bucking and blind and raw.

I swear, loud and ugly, and Josie chokes out a laugh. She milks me through each pulse, every twitch, eyes glued to mine. She wants to see the exact second I lose control.

When the spasm ebbs, I collapse onto her, arms locked around her waist so tight she squeaks. Sweat glues our skin together.

I stay exactly where I am, holding her against me while both of us try to catch our breath.

The room is a wreck. My body hurts. My leg's probably going to hate me tomorrow.

I can't remember the last time I cared less.

CHAPTER FORTY

Josephine

AUGUST 20TH

By Thursday afternoon, Buckhorn has decided my personal life belongs to the public. I should've known that was coming.

We sit outside the Rusty Mug beneath a faded red umbrella that does very little to block the August heat. Lunch crowds drift in and out around us while traffic crawls slowly along Main Street.

"So," Penny says, "how are things with Clay?"

“The last few days have been good… better than good.”

They've felt easy in a way I never expected.

Clay texts throughout the day, checking whether I've eaten lunch, asking about appointments at the clinic, and sending updates about whatever mess Nash has created at the dude ranch.

Penny watches me over the rim of her drink. "You seem happier."

The observation settles quietly between us.

Because I am happier.

That doesn't mean I'm completely relaxed.

Every good day seems to arrive with a fresh worry tucked behind it. What if this changes? What if he wakes up one morning missing the road, the rodeos, the freedom to leave whenever he wants? I already know the rodeo is reaching out to him, trying to pull him back in. I saw the calls he ignored from Brandon.

The fear never fully disappears; it simply retreats far enough into the background that I can ignore it for a while.

"I think I'm waiting for something to go wrong," I admit.

Penny nods slowly. "That's fair."

I glance up. "You're not going to tell me I'm being ridiculous?"

"No."

Penny picks at the wrapper around her straw. "People don't stop being scared just because good things happen."

I blink.

There's no teasing in her expression.

"Then what am I supposed to do?"