“Ma’am.” Justin tipped his hat—that knee-knocking grin he always wore threatening to make her legs buckle. He reached down, offering his hand to help her up onto his horse. He slipped a boot out of one stirrup so Blythe could mount. She swung a leg up and over, positioning herself behind the saddle and clutching his torso. Her cheek rested on his back, she could hear his heart beating. It was slow, steady, and strong with each thump that echoed in her ear. Her own pulse quickened, and she could’ve sworn if her own heart had arms, it would’ve reached through the barrier between them like a vine and wrapped itself around Justin’s.
When they got to his horse trailer, Justin guided the animal inside and latched the door. Blythe climbed into the passenger seat of his old, red Chevy and started to buckle her belt.
“Woah, woah, woah—what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Justin stood across from her, outside the driver's side door, his arms folded across his chest with an eyebrow quirked in her direction.
“What do you mean?” Her hands flew out as she chuckled.
“When they built this truck with this bench seat…they did it for a reason.” Unfolding his arms, Justin reached up and rested his palms on the top of the door frame.
“And what reason might that be, cowboy?” She tried to hold in her smirk as one eyebrow stretched up her forehead.
His striking blue eyes danced, and a sly grin appeared on his handsome face. “So people could drive out to the middle of nowhere and…you know, have a little fun.” His teeth bit his bottom lip and his smile got even bigger.
She loved to banter, so she went back at him.
“Should I be scared? You’ve threatened to put me on my back in the bed of this truck, and now you want to drive out to the middle of nowhere…to do what, exactly?”
Justin kept his grin as he lowered his arms and reached on his belly to unlock her seatbelt.
“I want to make one thing clear…when you’re in my truck, you sit in the middle as close to me as you can get. When have I ever let you sit all the way over there?”
Blythe knew he was right, but they’d never been out together in broad daylight, driving around for the world to see. When she sat next to him, she was practically in his lap.
“Won’t we get in trouble? Don’t cops give tickets for riding on top of each other?” she teased.
Justin gripped her thighs with his massive hands, dragging her to him, his voice dipping lower.
“Not when I’m the driver. Benefits of living in a small town where all the cops know your name.”
He moved behind the wheel and closed the door. His hand was still on her thigh, and it started to inch higher.
“Sure you don’t want to go test this seat out? We’ve got time…” The innuendo in his words was so thick, she could almost touch it. She slapped his hand and pressed her forehead to his with a low-key smile on her lips.
“We’ve got watermelon to chop, cowboy.”
“How long does it take to grab a damn watermelon?” Toby heckled Justin as he walked up to the long fold-out tables lined with food.
“None of your damn business.” He nodded his chin with a crooked smile and sat two bowls of chopped watermelon squares next to someone else’s macaroni salad. Toby got closer to him and spoke in a hushed whisper.
“You lay down a mattress in the bed of that truck, or did you just throw her on top and?—”
Justin had Toby by the lapels of his shirt in point-five seconds flat. “We might be friends, but we’re not friends like that. What I do with my woman is my business, so shut your stupid mouth and don’t ever talk about her again. Do you understand?”
Toby nodded. “Understood.”
Justin let go of his shirt and pushed him off. Fucking idiot. Justin was cool with all the bunk boys, but that crossed a line. Blythe was more sweet and more pure than any other womanin that one-horse town. For some dumbass to assume shit about her just pissed him off.
The afternoon was a blast, as always. There were sack races and horseshoes—the people even teamed up for some egg-on-a-spoon game, where you have to walk to the person in front of you and transfer an egg without dropping it. Evie dropped her egg, and he had to console her when she burst into tears over it. She was a tough little munchkin, but losing hit hard when you were eight.
Justin felt a drop of rain fall on his arm. Shit, there were fireworks scheduled—what about the girls? It was everyone’s favorite part. The rain began to sprinkle, and before everyone knew it, there was a torrential downpour dumping on them. Everyone rushed to throw tables, chairs, tents, and all the food into their vehicles. Chris took Addie and Evie home before the utter chaos began, but Justin still needed to go get his horse and trailer. He’d left them at Silo Springs when they went back to grab the melon…and sneak in a few other things.
But that was his and Blythe’s dirty little secret. He’d take every chance he could get to taste her pretty little mouth.
His dick pulsed at the memory—he was playing with fire. Pretty soon the heated make out sessions he dabbled in with Blythe weren’t going to be enough. She was the damn chocolate chip sitting in front of a toddler trying not to touch it. His resolve was waning.
“Hop on in, sugar.” He lifted her by the waist as she put a foot on the running board. Before she could sit down, he threw a quick spank on her behind. She turned and shot a glare at him. He loved it when she did that.
“If you didn’t like it, tell me to take it back.” He knew she wouldn’t do it. The way her eyes flared at his dare told him she loved it. He winked, shut the door behind her, and jogged to his own side.
