The More I See by Lisa Mondello Page A

But she had done it.
    "Can you catch your breath?" he asked.
    "I was afraid for you," she said, her voice hitching.
    "Then I guess we're even."
    His words fell flat and gave him none of the satisfaction he thought they would. He didn't want to get even with Lyssa, he realized. He wanted something else. Something strong and raw, a desire he hadn't had for a very long time. He had the incredible urge to reach out and slip his fingers through her hair just as he had earlier, to touch her silky soft skin and feel her body respond to his fingers.
    God help him—the way her heart was racing now, he wanted it to race like that for him.
    He wanted her breathless and shaking and utterly clinging to him, not out of fear or pity, but from his kiss. He wanted her like this, wrapped in his arms so he could chase the wildness he knew was locked up inside of her. He might not be able to see her with his eyes, but he did get a clear glimpse of what Alyssandra McElhannon was all about.
    Cody swallowed hard. He couldn't see her face and he wondered what she was thinking.
    It still amazed him how many emotions were lost to him, how much the spoken word could be colored by the twitch of lips, the lingering blink of the eyes, the almost imperceptible dip of a gaze.
    "You can trust your horse," she said quietly. "Why can't you trust Otis?"
    "Nothing against the dog."
    "You just don't like his occupation and what it means to you."
    "Something like that."
    Her sigh was slow and weighted with emotion. "Do you always pass judgment on something before you have even given it a chance? Or is that sort of prejudice reserved only for animals?"
    "I can't help the way I feel, Lyssa."
    "But your life could be so much richer than it is now."
    "How do you feel, Lyssa?"
    "What do you mean?"
    "You know what I mean. How did it feel charging across that field?"
    She was silent for a second or two. Then she chuckled, low and sweet, and Cody knew she was smiling. Now that he'd had the opportunity to feel her smile, he knew what it was like.
    He held himself back from reaching up and cupping her cheeks so he could feel it again.
    "I don't think I've ever been more terrified in all my life."
    "What else?"
    She laughed. It was small at first, then it grew until he could feel her shoulders shaking from it, feel the rumble inside her chest.
    "It was kind of exciting. I'll give you that much."
    The wide smile that stretched across Cody's face also brought an aching to his heart.
    "A rush," he whispered.
    "Yeah."
    His voice was low when he spoke again. "If you're not feeling that incredible rush every day, then you're not really living, Lyssa. That's all I'm saying. I want that rush. I want to feel alive again."
    "Then stop being afraid to live. Get on your horse and go back to doing what you love."
    "It's not that easy. With cuttin', I need my eyes and I don't have them anymore. I can't see the cattle moving in front of me. I can't tell my horse which cow to cut from the herd or what direction to move in because I don't know which way to go. If she stops short because a cow is changing direction I'm liable to fly over her head."
    Lyssa's shoulders sagged slightly. "You're looking at things from inside the box, Cody.
    Jump out of the box and you are going to get your life back."
    "Is that what you did, Lyssa?"
    "This isn't about me."
    "Yes, it is. You've been there."
    She hesitated a moment. "Yes."
    "Then you're fooling yourself big-time, Lyssa. Because if this is the first time you've felt that rush since you were able to see, then you're not living at all."
    They rode back to the ranch in virtual silence. Every clip-clop of the horse's hooves grated on Lyssa's already frazzled nerves. Annoyance rose up to her throat, bitter and strong, choking her.
    Of course she was living, she thought. What else did Cody think she'd been doing her whole life? Her life was full. She did more now than she ever had. Sure, she didn't travel much.
    She didn't frequent the local bars and