Roping The Cowgirl's Heart

Chapter 9

Note: This chapter contains spicy content. Mature audiences only.

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Wyatt

I stared at the ceiling. The morning light seeped through the window and across the room. I slowly drifted into consciousness. For a moment, I couldn't quite place where I was. I felt disoriented. But then I remember the kiss and it hit me.

What the hell was I thinking? I winced, not just from the sharp pain stabbing through my leg, but from the mess I was bringing Savannah into. Kissing Savannah last night, and holding her close. It brought back everything I'd been trying to outrun on the rodeo circuit.

I rolled over, reluctant to leave the comfort of the bed. This leg situation wasn't doing me any favors. Every inch of my body screamed to get up, to move, to run. But I wasn't running anymore, at least not right now.

I was at Savannah's ranch, in her home, to try to help her save the only life she'd ever known. And last night, in a moment of weakness, we'd shared a kiss that had left me reeling. I could still feel the softness of her lips against mine, the way her body had molded to my own. It was like no time had passed at all like we were still those two crazy kids who thought they could take on the world.

I knew I had no right to be thinking about Savannah like that, not when I'd been the one to walk away all those years ago. I'd left her behind, chasing my selfish dreams. And I had no business trying to rekindle something that I'd been the one to extinguish.

Still, I couldn't help the way my heart raced at the thought of her, the way my body ached to hold her again. I'd never stopped loving her. She'd always been there, in the back of my mind, a constant presence that I could never quite shake. And now, being here with her, it was like all those old feelings were rushing back to the surface. Threatening to consume me.

I lay there for a long while, staring up at the ceiling. I tried to sort through the jumble of emotions swirling inside me. I knew I needed to focus on the task at hand, on helping Savannah save her ranch. But every time I closed my eyes, all I could see was her face, all I could feel was the heat of her skin against my own.

A soft knock at the door startled me out of my thoughts, and I sat up, wincing as pain shot through my injured leg.

"Wyatt? You awake in there?" Savannah's voice muffled through the door, but I could hear the hesitation in her tone.

"Yeah, I'm up," I called back.

"Breakfast is almost ready."

"Be out in a minute," running a hand through my hair as I tried to compose myself. I heard her footsteps retreating down the hall, and I let out a long breath, my heart hammering in my chest. I needed to get a grip, to remember why I was here. Savannah was counting on me, and I couldn't let myself get distracted by my selfish desires.

Slowly, I eased myself out of bed, testing my weight on my injured leg. It was sore as hell, but the pain was manageable, and I knew I could push through it. I had to.

When I finally reached the kitchen, Savannah was standing by the stove, her back to me. The sight of her—the way her hair fell down her back, the way she moved with quiet grace—sent my stomach into a free fall.

"Morning," I said, settling into a chair, and propping my crutches against the table.

She turned a tentative smile on her lips. "Morning. How'd you sleep?"

"Better than I have in a while," I admitted, though it had been far from restful. "Thanks for setting up the room."

Her eyes flicked to mine before she busied herself with the scrambled eggs on the stove. "Just doing what I can," she murmured.