“Oh, I almost forgot.” He pulls a black ball cap from his back pocket. “To keep the sun out of your eyes.” Putting it on my head, he pulls it down low. I laugh at his playfulness then lift it up to tug my hair through the hole in the back. “Ready?”
I nod, placing my foot in the stirrup, then reach up to grab the horn of the saddle and throw my leg over. When I feel his hands on my hips to guide me, I suck in a sharp breath. Justin’s hand moves to my thigh as he hands me the reins.
“You good?”
“I’m good.”
He grins then gives my thigh a gentle squeeze before he walks over to Jack Daniels, easily mounting the horse.
Wow.
Justin is handsome in whatever he does but seeing him on a horse is something entirely different. He sits tall in the saddle, his strong fingers loosely holding the reins as he leads us out of the stables and down the dirty path. It takes me a few moments to get comfortable but Justin is as patient as ever. “Just hold on and let her do the rest.” I relax my shoulders, letting Trixie take the lead. “There you go.”
We ride the trails along the property for about half an hour before we come out to a clearing that is covered in bluebonnets.
“This must be where Bluebonnet Ranch comes from.”
“This is the whole reason they bought this place. My grandmother saw it and fell in love.”
“I am so sorry you lost her. How did she die?”
“Lung cancer. As soon as she was diagnosed she went downhill fast.”
“How long were they married?”
“Fifty-six years. He still loves her. I don’t think he will ever get over her but he finds different ways to honor her memory. Justin leads me over to a bench near the edge of the water. On the back there’s an inscription.
Dance on the ripples.
Feast on the trees.
My heart every morning.
Bluebonnets in spring.
Curled around the beautiful words, as if they are hugging them, are hand painted bluebonnets. On the front are the names Frank and Ellie and the year 1942.
We take a seat on the bench and a strange sense of belonging washes over me. Like the warm breeze rippling off the pond, my heart surges with longing.
“This is beautiful.”
“Pop made it for her when they first bought this place.” He motions for me to sit and I do, folding my hands in my lap. He takes a seat next to me, close enough that I can smell him but still too far away. He stretches his arm out behind me, looking out over the water. “They were just a couple of kids, living on a prayer and a dream.”
His fierce blue eyes are trained on me and they hold that fire. The one I saw in the basement, the one in the hospital, the one last night. Every single one is like a confession, a wordless need.
Another warm breeze kisses my face, tiny strands of hair lapping at my skin. Justin reaches up to pull it away as if it were something he’s done a million times before. I lean in closer, seeking his touch. It feels like electricity, but when his gaze moves to my lips, my heart thunders in my chest like a raging storm.
The combination causes my breathing to turn shallow. The earth stops moving and possibly so does time as he leans in slowly, pressing his lips to mine. My body freezes as all of the blood rushes through my limbs, heating every inch of my skin straight down to my core. His hands move to my face, holding me in place as he tenderly kisses my bottom lip then my top. I part them wider, wanting to taste more of him, and he blesses me with his warm tongue, darting out to sweep against mine. Justin scoots in closer, bringing his hard body flush with mine as he wraps an arm firmly around my waist. I melt against him, bringing my hands between our bodies to cradle his face. A thrill shoots through me as he squeezes me tighter, fisting his hand in my hair and deepening the kiss.
Oh, this kiss.
This kiss is like a spark of life.
A beacon of hope.
Everything I ever wanted and never knew I needed lies in a single soul-bearing kiss. My hands drift up farther, burying them in his short hair. There’s barely enough on top to cling to so I do just that, thinking if I don’t I will surely plummet off of whatever mountain I am climbing.
My body heats further when his hand tightens a little more on my hair before he loosens his hold, his hand drifting down.
