I turned to find him looking at me with this expression that was half-teasing, half-serious, and entirely too much. "What are we doing here?"
"Working. Morning chores. Like we do every day."
"You know what I mean."
I did. God help me, I did.
"I don't know," I admitted quietly. "Yesterday you were all... that. And now you're—"
"Still that?" He smiled. "Yeah. I meant what I said. All of it. Question is—what are you gonna do about it?"
"I don't—I need to think."
"You said that yesterday."
"And I'm saying it again today, because you keep—" I gestured at him, at the space between us, at everything. "You keep doing this and I can't think when you're doing this!"
His smile turned absolutely wicked. "Good."
"That's not—you're impossible."
"I'm honest."
"You're distracting."
"Also honest." He stepped back, giving me space I didn't entirely want. "But I'll back off if you really want me to. Just say the word."
"I..."
I didn't say the word. Couldn't, apparently. Because some traitorous part of me liked the attention. Liked the way he looked at me like I was the most interesting thing in the world. Liked feeling wanted after a year of deliberately not wanting anyone.
We finished the chores in charged silence, and I was just thinking we might survive the morning when Pops came jogging—actually jogging, which was alarming—toward the barn.
"We got a runner!" he called. "Phoenix jumped the north fence. Headed toward Morrison's property."
"Shit." Phoenix was one of our younger mares, barely three years old and still skittish as hell. If she made it to Morrison's land, she could get tangled in their barbed wire or worse. "When?"
"Just now. Saw her from the porch. She's fast, Winnie."
"I'll get Bandit." I was already moving, adrenaline overriding everything else. Phoenix was my responsibility—I’d been the one training her, building her trust. If she got hurt because I’d been too busy mooning over Beau—
"I'm coming with you," Beau said, already following.
"You can't ride well enough for this."
"So we'll double up. I can hold on."
"Beau—"
"I'm not letting you go alone. What if she runs into the woods? What if you need help?" He was already grabbing Bandit's bridle. "I can at least be an extra set of hands."
He was right, damn him. And we didn't have time to argue.
"Fine. But you do exactly what I say. No heroics, no improvising. You hold on and don't fall off."
"Yes, ma'am."
I saddled Bandit in record time while Beau helped Pops secure the other horses. Then I swung up, and Beau climbed on behind me, settling into the saddle with his chest pressed against my back, arms wrapping around my waist.
