“Getting you away from the men.” He didn’t slow his stride. “You should have gone home with Wyatt.”

“Just ’cause you don’t like being with me doesn’t mean other men won’t.”

Was that what she thought? That he didn’t like spending time with her? He just shook his head, frustration twisting at his insides. Why was he always saying or doing the wrong things with Ivy? Why couldn’t he ever get things right?

By the time he reached the hitching post and her horse, his jaw ached from clamping it together so tightly. He stopped but couldn’t make himself put her down. What could he say to reassure her that whatever reservations he had weren’t because of her?

He breathed her in, and in the process his nose brushed against her hair.

She held herself motionless.

“Nothing’s wrong with you, Ivy.” His words came out low and raw. “I like being with you.”

“You do?”

He nodded, her hair tickling his chin and making him want to bury his face against its silkiness. “Don’t ever think I don’t.”

“I can’t help it. You’re always getting angry with me.”

He closed his eyes at the hurt in her voice, hurt he was putting there, and he hated himself for it. “I’m sorry.”

Her grip loosened, and she melted against him.

Other revelers lingered nearby in the open doors of saloons, some in the streets. No one seemed to be paying them any attention, and he used the opportunity to hold her longer than he should. He might not be able to have her. But he could savor these tiny moments once in a while, couldn’t he?

“You told Wyatt and Flynn about being Buster?” he whispered against her hair.

She nodded. “I wanted to. It wasn’t fair for them to think you were at fault for my indecency and to hate you for it.”

“I didn’t mind.”

“I couldn’t let you take the blame.” She lifted her head and gently touched his bruised cheek.

He winced.

“I didn’t want Flynn to hit you again.”

“Thank you. I’d prefer not to run into his fist again either.”

Her lips curved into a smile, one that stole the breath from his lungs. She was always beautiful, but her smile . . . it made her stunning. “You could’ve defended yourself, you know.”

“Not when I deserved the thrashing.”

“You didn’t do nothin’ wrong.”

What about kissing her? It had been a mistake. Hadn’t it?

Her attention dropped to his mouth. Was she thinking about the kiss they’d shared too? “I’ll kiss who I want and when I want.” Her words reverberated through him. She was bold enough to kiss him again if she wanted to. It was exactly the kind of thing she’d do. Her aggression, her passion, her forcefulness had never scared him. He liked those qualities about her.