“Yeah, I can totally imagine.”
“You’ll see. Pinkie doesn’t give a single damn about your rodeo dreams. Or anything else, really.”
She climbed up like she’d done it a hundred times, and I stepped closer, reached into my saddlebag, and pulled out my old hat. Slid it on her head.
Just to see if she looked like the way I’d imagined her last night.
She did.
Hell. She looked better.
“And do I get a whip or a lasso or something?”
I didn’t answer.
I just stared.
God, was there anything more perfect than this woman?
I stepped closer, caught her eyes. She had no idea what was coming.
“No whip?” she asked again, raising a brow.
I didn’t give a fuck about promises, rules or plans. Or being smart. I let it go.
I could’ve kissed her.Easily. Her lips were so close, it almost felt like fate.
Step by step, I leaned in. There was no big move.
Just her. And that stubborn mouth I’d been dying to kiss.
So I did.
Slow. Steady.
No rush. Just being in it. Right there with her.
Her hand slid to my waist, soft but certain. No pulling away. No hesitation. She kissed me back like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like maybe she’d been waiting for it too.
Jesus.
If we didn’t have to be somewhere, and if I hadn’t just told Hope I was a damn punctual legend, I would’ve pulled her off that saddle, laid her out on the couch, and made sure she couldn’t stand straight for a week.
“I don’t know what that meant in cowboy,” she whispered, eyes still glazed, “but I’m starting to really like this whole riding thing. If this is how cowboys talk.”
“Yeah, lucky for you, not every cowboy says hello like that. And honestly, I wouldn’t recommend it either.”
“I’ll think about it,” she said, biting her lip.
That damn lip was gonna be the death of me.
I gave Shakespeare a nudge with my heel and started off toward the ridge. For half a second, I forgot Willa didn’t exactly grow up in the saddle.
I heard a yelp, a thump, and the unmistakable sound of Pinkie decidingshewas in charge now.
I turned in the saddle. She was bouncing around like a drunk squirrel on a trampoline, clinging to the saddle with both hands, hair flying, mouth open.
“You okay back there?”
