doesn’t trust him, and for that, I can’t fault him. I get where he’s coming from, even if I know Greer won’t hurt me again. Maggie’s not a football field away, so it’s not exactly alone. But I also have a feeling that Ransom wouldn’t like to be left out of the loop, and I’m trying to do right by our new relationship.
I slip my phone out of my pocket. Text or call? I think I could use some of his strength right now, so I don’t consider it anymore, and voice my little assistant to call him. Hearing her repeat his contact name has me felling better already.
Thuds and loud cheers invade my ear before a muffled-sounding Ransom. “Denver? Hang on.” I hear some shifting and movement, and suddenly it’s quieter. “Still there?”
“I hope you weren’t in the middle of a match,” I kid. Lord, just picturing him all pumped up and decked out in his boxing gear with sweat beading on his nearly-olive skin, the ripples of his abs, and the badness of his tattoos has me almost swooning. Swooning ? I shake my head. Denver Dempsey does NOT swoon .
“Nah, I’m all set. Last match is going down now.”
Thrilled with the delay of my troubled phone call, I inquire, “How you’d do tonight?”
“TKO, round three. Not too shabby. Made a few hundred bucks.”
And now I’m dying to see Ransom in the ring. I’d heard he was good, even though he doesn’t take on many matches. He tells everyone he uses boxing to stay in shape and sharp during the off-season. I’m pretty sure it’s just the adrenaline junkie in him. “Are you ever gonna let me see you fight?”
“Don’t get enough of seeing me in action, Denver?” his voices scratches at the barely contained itch I have for him.
I laugh lightly. This is why I called him. He turns my nauseated stomach into laughter. “I just wanna see you get some sense knocked into your head is all,” I joke.
“Ah … you’re so not good for my fragile ego.”
“Fragile? Hmm … I’m relatively sure cocky is a prerequisite for bull riders, and John Ransom is no exception. I happen to know that firsthand.”
He doesn’t miss a beat. “I think I’ve given you hard proof that I’ve got the goods to back up the cockiness. And,” he sighs, “since I’ve got the goods, that doesn’t make me cocky. That makes me damn good.”
My head drops back and rolls across the wood as I recall that he does indeed have the goods, and we’ve barely even scratched the surface. “Ladies and gentleman, the one, the only, the over-inflated ego of Ransom,” I boom, before shooting a look around to make sure I’m alone.
“Baby, I’m enjoying this verbal sparring match, but I gotta say I’m pretty sure that’s not why you called me. Why don’t you go ahead and spit it out.”
Closing my eyes tightly, I release a world-wearied sigh. “I just wanted to let you know that Greer wants to talk. I’m at the stables, but I’m not alone. Maggie’s waiting for me out front to go back to the dorms.” Silence. “You asked me to let you know when I spoke to him.” Silence. “Ransom?”
“Yeah, babe. That’s good. I just wish I were there. I don’t trust him. Don’t want you alone with him.”
“I’m not alone. Maggie’s here,” I remind him.
“If I’m not with you, you’re alone.”
I roll my eyes. The sentiment is sweet, if not entirely rational. “Ransom—”
“That may not make sense to you, but it’s just how I feel. I know y’all need to talk though.”
“OK … I’m gonna go do that and get it over with.” I wince. Greer deserves better than that. “I just … I want all this awkwardness to be over with, you know?”
“I know, baby. I’m proud of you. You’re doing great.”
Warmth infuses what had been ice-cold dread at the thought of hashing through things with Greer. “Thanks. I’ll call you soon.”
“You’ll call me the minute you’re headed away from the stables.”
“Yes, sir,” I taunt.
“Denver,” his voice
I slip my phone out of my pocket. Text or call? I think I could use some of his strength right now, so I don’t consider it anymore, and voice my little assistant to call him. Hearing her repeat his contact name has me felling better already.
Thuds and loud cheers invade my ear before a muffled-sounding Ransom. “Denver? Hang on.” I hear some shifting and movement, and suddenly it’s quieter. “Still there?”
“I hope you weren’t in the middle of a match,” I kid. Lord, just picturing him all pumped up and decked out in his boxing gear with sweat beading on his nearly-olive skin, the ripples of his abs, and the badness of his tattoos has me almost swooning. Swooning ? I shake my head. Denver Dempsey does NOT swoon .
“Nah, I’m all set. Last match is going down now.”
Thrilled with the delay of my troubled phone call, I inquire, “How you’d do tonight?”
“TKO, round three. Not too shabby. Made a few hundred bucks.”
And now I’m dying to see Ransom in the ring. I’d heard he was good, even though he doesn’t take on many matches. He tells everyone he uses boxing to stay in shape and sharp during the off-season. I’m pretty sure it’s just the adrenaline junkie in him. “Are you ever gonna let me see you fight?”
“Don’t get enough of seeing me in action, Denver?” his voices scratches at the barely contained itch I have for him.
I laugh lightly. This is why I called him. He turns my nauseated stomach into laughter. “I just wanna see you get some sense knocked into your head is all,” I joke.
“Ah … you’re so not good for my fragile ego.”
“Fragile? Hmm … I’m relatively sure cocky is a prerequisite for bull riders, and John Ransom is no exception. I happen to know that firsthand.”
He doesn’t miss a beat. “I think I’ve given you hard proof that I’ve got the goods to back up the cockiness. And,” he sighs, “since I’ve got the goods, that doesn’t make me cocky. That makes me damn good.”
My head drops back and rolls across the wood as I recall that he does indeed have the goods, and we’ve barely even scratched the surface. “Ladies and gentleman, the one, the only, the over-inflated ego of Ransom,” I boom, before shooting a look around to make sure I’m alone.
“Baby, I’m enjoying this verbal sparring match, but I gotta say I’m pretty sure that’s not why you called me. Why don’t you go ahead and spit it out.”
Closing my eyes tightly, I release a world-wearied sigh. “I just wanted to let you know that Greer wants to talk. I’m at the stables, but I’m not alone. Maggie’s waiting for me out front to go back to the dorms.” Silence. “You asked me to let you know when I spoke to him.” Silence. “Ransom?”
“Yeah, babe. That’s good. I just wish I were there. I don’t trust him. Don’t want you alone with him.”
“I’m not alone. Maggie’s here,” I remind him.
“If I’m not with you, you’re alone.”
I roll my eyes. The sentiment is sweet, if not entirely rational. “Ransom—”
“That may not make sense to you, but it’s just how I feel. I know y’all need to talk though.”
“OK … I’m gonna go do that and get it over with.” I wince. Greer deserves better than that. “I just … I want all this awkwardness to be over with, you know?”
“I know, baby. I’m proud of you. You’re doing great.”
Warmth infuses what had been ice-cold dread at the thought of hashing through things with Greer. “Thanks. I’ll call you soon.”
“You’ll call me the minute you’re headed away from the stables.”
“Yes, sir,” I taunt.
“Denver,” his voice
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