Jagger shrugs. "No worries. What are you doing out here anyway? You're not moving too fast."
"I forgot my pocket knife in the barn. I'll be back in the house soon," I lie.
"All right. I have to start homework. I really can't wait until school's over," he says.
"Me too, bro," I agree.
He takes off, and I step into the barn, praying that Willow's inside. I walk down the row of stalls until I come to the one that's open, freezing at the sight before me.
She's brushing Vandal. He's wild and unruly. Everyone on the ranch thought he was impossible to break, but it took her coming to the barn and talking to him every day for him to eventually calm down enough to ride him.
Thinking back, that was the moment I knew Willow was special, but I still saw her as Jagger's little sister. Now, no matter how hard I try to return to that place, I can't.
I lean against a post. She doesn't see me watching, but I can't look away. Hay dusts her jeans. Several locks of hair have escaped her loose ponytail. The more I stare, the more I'm convinced she's not just taming her horse. She's taming every part of me I swore was untouchable.
My heart races the same way it does before I get on a bull.
She brushes him like she's got all the time in the world.
I watch her like an idiot. Flames dance across my previously chilled skin. And I realize I'm ruined. I've never wanted anything more than to be the one she touches so carefully, with so much certainty. Like I'm hers.
And God help me, I think I already am.
She slowly turns. Her breath hitches and her blues widen when she catches sight of me. Her voice barely rises above a whisper when she says, "I thought you weren't coming."
9
Willow – Age 15
My heart skips a beat, then picks up at double the normal speed. Heat blooms in my cheeks, spreading like wildfire with no relief in sight.
Wyatt drags his dark gaze down me in a slow-burning, dangerous way. It's like he knows my secrets.
Anticipation bubbles in my chest to the point I can only take shallow breaths. I shift on my feet, grabbing the nearest post to steady myself.
He teases in his drawl, "Why don't you have some more faith in me, sugar?" He steps forward too quickly and then tries to hide his grimace.
I wince. "How's your injury?"
"You mean my ass?" He cocks an eyebrow, and his dimples pop out.
Another round of fire crawls up my neck and into my cheeks. I bite my lip and glance at his sweatpants.
He steps closer, then does a half spin, taunting, "I think you're looking at the wrong part of me."
Flames of embarrassment engulf me. I stutter, "I-I...um..."
He chuckles, then glances toward the front of the barn and lowers his voice. He asks, "Is anyone else here?"
I shake my head. "No."
His expression turns more mischievous. "Good. I finally have you all alone."
Butterflies torment my insides, their wings fighting to escape my belly. I nervously giggle.
He studies me another moment, then looks around the barn, questioning, "What chores are left?"
"I just have to finish brushing Vandal and Quicksilver," I relay.
