They’d spent every night in this room, limbs tangled and bodies writhing. But something was different in here tonight.
The energy had shifted.
He lowered her onto the bed, then went to the window and pushed the one crow curtain aside, allowing the light of the moon to bathe the space in a blue glow. She couldn’t take her eyes off him as he shook out a quilt folded at the foot of the bed, slid in next to her, and covered them.
She rolled onto her side, and he mirrored her movement. They stayed like that, safe under the warmth of the quilt, staring into each other’s eyes. Her heart swelled in her chest as she gazed at her beefcake, the former thorn in her metaphysical side who was now the man she…
Stop.
She couldn’t go there—not now, not ever.
Raz cupped her face in his hand, then kissed the tears on her cheeks. “Picture a time when you were truly happy.”
“What are you doing?” she whispered, swallowing a sob.
“What I listen to you do with Sebastian every night. I decided to add kissing to it. Do you mind—the kissing, that is?”
This man.
Fresh tears trailed down her cheeks, and he kissed them away.
“You don’t have to do this, Raz. I’ll be okay. I’m used to being disappointed by my dad. It just happened when I was feeling so…” she trailed off.
“What were you feeling, plum?”
How was she supposed to explain it?
One minute, she dared picture what a real life with him and Sebastian could be like. And the next, the universe had served up her father on a platter.
It had delivered the man to her doorstep.
But it wasn’t her doorstep.
It was the doorstep of a rental home—a rented respite from the worries of making rent and supporting her brothers.
Sometimes the universe communicates silently through vibes and rhythms. Sometimes, it whispers its plan in the air. And then sometimes, it drives up to your house, snoops around, and breaks your heart.
Think of a time when you were truly happy.
“We know what happens if Doug wins the Ass-in-Nine. What happens if you win the race? You’ve never told me.”
Why had she chosen this moment to ask him that? After the train wreck of an encounter with her father, she shouldn’t care what Raz thought should or shouldn’t happen. She couldn’t entertain thoughts of making a life with this man or any man, not when the universe had just served up the ultimate reminder of why she had to guard her heart. But she couldn’t quiet the little voice in her head, or maybe it was the pull of her heartstrings, the faint whispers asking one poignant question.
What if she could trust her heart to another?
The competing thoughts went back and forth in her mind like a game of mental tug-of-war.
Come on, chi. A little balance could help right about now.
“No,” she breathed, pressing her fingertips to his lips. “I shouldn’t have asked. You don’t have to answer.”
“I do. I owe it to you because the answer is you, Libby.”
“Me?”
He stroked his thumb across her bottom lip. “You trust the universe, right? You believe it guides our paths?”
“Yes.”
“Then we leave it there. If I win, you’re meant to be mine.”
The breath caught in her throat. Did he mean it?
“And if you lose?” She had to ask. They were in dangerous waters—at least, she was.
He tightened his hold on her, determination flashing in his eyes. “I thought you knew the answer to that by now.”
“And what is the answer?” she whispered.
That self-assured beefcake grin spread across his lips. “I don’t lose.”
Twenty-Four
Erasmus
Cameras flashed, and Raz turned up the wattage on his grin. He glanced at Libby, sharing the spotlight with him today, and his heart swelled in his chest like a lovesick schoolboy.
But there was no fighting this feeling.
They’d made it to race day.
It was Ass-in-Nine or bust, and everything was on the line.
He couldn’t have made it clearer. If he won, Libby would be his.
Had they discussed the nuts and bolts of what that actually meant?
Not exactly.
Over the last week, neither had brought it up, choosing instead to live in this perfect dreamworld where all that mattered was himself, Sebastian, and Libby.
But their time was up.
Today, they’d see if the universe was on their side.
Was he a fool to set the stakes so high?
Was he even capable of trusting himself with another’s heart? And was Libby ready to give her heart to him?
He couldn’t let those questions consume his thoughts—not minutes before the race.
He glanced at Libby, smiling as a photographer moved in for a close-up. She leaned in and nuzzled Plum for the shot. There was no denying that the woman handled the media like a pro. Then again, who couldn’t help but fall under her spell?
He caught Briggs out of the corner of his eye. The man checked his watch. With the big fight less than two weeks away, the entire PR team descended on Colorado, and the group was working overtime to promote the event. “We’ve got a few more minutes for questions and photos,” the agent announced to the mass of media clustered in the square.
“Mr. Cress, Ms. Lamb, turn this way so I can get the Ass-in-Nine starting line banner in the shot, please,” a photographer called.
“Then look this way. We need a photo for the Denver Post.”
“And here for BBC. Big smiles, and if the larger donkey wouldn’t mind turning his head this way, I’d very much appreciate it.”
Raz surveyed his beast of a burro. “The larger donkey’s name is Beefcake, and good luck getting this beast to do anything he doesn’t want to do,” he said, patting his donkey’s rump. Unfortunately, Beefcake had other things on his mind besides posing for the cameras.
He and his donkey had the same thing on their minds—well, sort of.
Currently, Beefcake had his sights set on Plum. The demure gray and white burro stood next to Libby as photographers and reporters surrounded them, snapping shots and peppering them with questions.
He used to find these events tiresome, but not today, not with Libby by his side. He could feel the positive energy coming off her in soothing waves, and he couldn’t help but grin like an idiot, taking in the scene.
This London boy had grown quite fond of mountain life.
The town of Rickety Rock had gone all out for the big day. Ass-in-Nine flags in every color of the rainbow emblazoned with burros waved from lampposts, and a grand banner marking the start and finish of the loop swayed in the breeze. Race participants were scattered about, warming up with their burros, surveying the map of the Crooked Mine Loop, and getting in a final snack before the big event. Families milled around the square eating ice cream, taking in the animals, and participating in the flurry of kids’ activities as a band played a jaunty tune setting a jovial tone. Anticipation crackled in the air, or maybe that was just him, ready for the universe to confirm what he already knew.
Libby was his.
He’d fallen arse over elbow for the raven-haired beauty, and he couldn’t deny it any longer.
And hopefully, he wouldn’t have to.