I hesitated. Not because the answer was bad. Because it was honest.
“I was telling him about you.”
Rose went very still.
“I was telling him that his owner is the most stubborn, infuriating, impressive woman I’ve ever met.” I kept my voice light but the words weren’t light at all. “And that she has every right to hate me, but I’m hoping she doesn’t. Because I’m running out of ways to pretend I’m not completely gone for her.”
The fire popped. Neither of us blinked.
“You said that,” Rose said slowly. “To a horse.”
“He’s a good listener.”
“He’s a twelve-hundred-pound animal who tried to eat your jacket.”
“Nobody’s perfect.”
Rose set her phone on the side table. Uncurled her legs. Stood up.
I thought she was leaving. Thought I’d pushed too far, said too much, shattered whatever fragile truce we’d built over the past week.
She didn’t leave.
She crossed the room and stopped in front of my chair, looking down at me with an expression that wiped every thought from my head.
“Stand up,” she said.
I stood.
We were close. Too close for people maintaining professional distance. Close enough that I could smell her. Soap and hay and something warm underneath.
“I’ve been trying not to do this,” she said. Her voice was low, rough at the edges.
“I know.”
“I’ve been trying for days.”
“I know that too.”
“It’s not working.”
“No,” I agreed. “It’s not.”
She grabbed the front of my shirt and kissed me.
Not carefully. Not testing. She kissed me like she’d made a decision and was furious about it. Fierce and demanding, her mouth hot against mine, her fist twisted in my shirt like she was daring me to pull away.
I didn’t pull away.
I kissed her back the way I’d wanted to since the storm. One hand in her hair, the other at the small of her back, pulling her flush against me. She made a sound against my mouth, low andfrustrated, and I was going to hear it every time I closed my eyes for the rest of my life.
Her hands moved from my shirt to my jaw, her fingers spread along the sides of my face, holding me like she was claiming something she hadn’t decided to keep yet.
I backed her against the arm of the couch and she went willingly, her fingers sliding into my hair, pulling me closer. Her back arched and I dropped my mouth to her jaw, her throat, the soft skin below her ear. She made a sound that went straight through me.
“Graham—”
“Aye.”
