“That’s what you get for trying to silence me with your mouth.”
“Did it work?” I toss over my shoulder.
She doesn’t answer, but when I look at her, her face and chest are pink.
“Can you check my phone?” I ask her.
She grabs it off the table and holds it up to me, no notifications. “All good.”
I heave a sigh and go back to washing dishes.
When we’re done, we go to the living room. Mae sits next to me, but I pull her onto my lap, where she belongs.
“How’s work?” I ask her.
She shrugs. “Which job?”
“The numbers one.”
She rolls her eyes with a smile. “It’s okay. I’m digging through a company and found evidence that the CFO has been taking money from the company for five years. So that’s cool.”
“How is cowboying?” she asks.
I chuckle and squeeze her thigh. “It’s great, I’d love to take you out one day.”
“What do you do?” she asks.
“Well, a lot of it is taking care of stock. We move them around to fresh pastures. We also do a fair amount of breeding, which comes with its own set of requirements. On top of checking fencing, fixing that, and then we have horses who need to be cared for. There is never a dull day on Hayes Ranch. Most days there’s always something going on we don’t expect.”
“I barely remember how to ride a horse,” she mumbles.
“Good, that means you can ride me — I mean,myhorse,” I say and wiggle my eyebrows.
Mae rolls her eyes and smiles.
“Do you want to watch a movie, or do you need to get back?” she asks.
I check my phone and force myself not to text Aunt Dixie or June to check in on them.
“I’m sorry, I just want to make sure everything is okay.”
“You don’t need to apologize, Coop,” she breathes.
I nod and instead of checking my phone to find no missed call or text I grab her face and kiss her breathless.
She shifts around, pressing her chest into mine, and the kiss turns needy and a little aggressive. Her hips roll against my zipper and I groan, shifting from the blood rush.
I flip us, putting her on her back, and she giggles.
“I have déjà vu,” she says.
“Sounds like I’ll have to make things more interesting,” I mumble into her top and lift the fabric to kiss her stomach.
“I think that’s a marvelous idea,” she says, slipping her fingers through my hair.
I groan because I love when she does that.
Dragging a finger over the edge of her shorts, I stop next to the button and look up, waiting for approval. She nods, and I flip the button, dragging the zipper down.
