Rope the Moon (Runaway Ranch, #2)

by Ava Hunter

“Bravery is being scared and doing it anyway,”

All I see is Davis. Whiskey and a rebel soul. Duty and destruction and rough hands.

“Dakota.” My name’s a plea on his lips. His fingers stroke over my nipple. “Never letting you go again. You hear me, Cupcake? Never fucking ever.” A hot tear slides down my cheek. “Davis,” I whisper. “You and that baby—I’m going to spoil you fucking senseless. Love you both so damn hard. Protect you until the end of my goddamn days. I swear to God.”

I have the bastard’s name now. I’m on the offense. Already my mind lights on a game plan. Get his picture. Call in every contact. Every favor. And if he sets foot in Resurrection—beat him so goddamn hard he won’t even be recognizable as a carcass. Black and white has no meaning for me anymore. There’s only gray. Only Dakota and that baby I love. Nothing can happen to them. I wouldn’t survive it.