Page 111 of Saddle Storm

I reach for her and she steps beside me, stiff as a board. “Hey, everything all right?” I ask quietly.

She looks up at me, breath shallow, guarded, like she’s bracing for a fall.

The hell? Did someone photograph her again? Was there a reporter in the bathroom?

“Storm Dalton. I knew that was you,” Jasper clips—a little too loud and aggressive for my comfort.

“Jasper, let’s step outside for this little reunion, shall we?” There is no reunion. But I need to remind him that no one needs to know Storm’s name—not yet.

Storm doesn’t move. She glares at Jasper. Pushing Max behind her.

He doesn’t miss it. His eyes grow wide and he points a finger at him. “Wa—wait a minute. This . . . this doesn’t count. I didn’t make contact. This doesn’t count Storm,” he shouts.

My blood goes cold, my stomach turns and all breath knocks out of me. It’s familiar—worse maybe—than when my shoulder shattered against the boards and the world went black.

Except now I’m only seeing red.

My movements feel delayed and heavy as I turn my head down to look at her.

She doesn’t meet my gaze. She keeps them hard on Jasper. “Fine. It doesn’t count. But you have three seconds to—”

“This him?” His eyes glance from Storm to Max and I’m ready to do some damage. “Hey, kid. What’s—”

“Don’t even think about it.” Storm’s warning is low, even. Eyes sharp.

Chase appears from out of the crowd of fans and meets my gaze with a question. I nod toward Max and my best friend reads me like a book. “Hey, there’s my favorite kid.” I catch him wink at Storm as he takes Max’s hand from her grip. “I ever show you my motorcycle?”

Pepper sprints behind and they vanish past the side entrance into the parking lot.

Jasper glares at Storm. “I was just saying hello.” He edges closer. “I wasn’t gonna—”

“Take one more step and I’ll put you on the floor,” I warn under my breath, every word edged with a threat I plan to follow through.

Jasper’s expression hardens momentarily but he takes a slow step back. “Catch up another time then.”

Just when I think he’s going to be smart and leave, he turns his eyes on Storm. “Don’t think I’m not good for it,” he tells her in a low growl.

My legs carry me in front of her, my jaw tight. “You better pray you’re good for it,” I seethe and it’s all I say. The rest of my threat is in my glare and he reads me loud and clear.

Reaching back, I take Storm’s hand in mine again, it’s trembling but not with fear. Like she’s ready to go to war. I give it a squeeze to let her know she won’t have to. “Now why don’t you make like ten years ago—and disappear.”

Anger still buzzes under my skin when we reach the car. Max doesn’t ask who the man was and I’m not sure if that’s a good sign or not. I buckle him into the back seat, giving him an easy smile and wink.

I crowd Storm against the driver door. “Get in the passenger seat.”

“No.” Her voice is heavy and dry, barely glancing up at me. “You had a long night, I told you I’d dri—”

“You’re not driving, Storm.” My tone isn’t much softer than it was with Jasper back there and I take a breath. “I’m fine. Give me the keys. I’ll get you home faster.”

She swallows and nods, dropping them into my hand. I try not to notice the contact of her delicate skin. The mist in her eyes. Or the fact that I know she’s holding it together for Max’s sake.

35

The drive back to Blue River Ranch is shorter, with less traffic at this hour. Max is asleep in the back seat by the time we cross the gate. It’s been quiet—with not a single word spoken between us—but not uncomfortable.

If I’m honest—because someone freaking needs to be—I’ve been staring at the dark road ahead of me trying to convince myself I’m angry at Jasper. Not her.

But the closer I come to confronting her—the less I’m convinced.