Daisy rears up like a majestic fucking horse, her front hooves leaving the ground, her powerful body twisting.
Lily screams.
The lead rope slips completely from my hand as I launch myself forward. No thought, just pure instinct and training. I'm moving before my brain fully processes what's happening, my body acting on muscle memory from years of working with spooked horses.
Lily's already sliding sideways off the saddle, her hands grasping at nothing, her body tilting dangerously toward the hard-packed dirt of the corral. Daisy's coming back down, and if Lily hits the ground, those hooves could catch her skull, her ribs, any part of her soft body.
I reach her just in time, my arms wrapping around her waist and yanking her clear of Daisy's descent. The horse's hooves slam into the dirt where Lily would've landed, missing us by inches. I stumble backward with Lily's weight in my arms, her body pressed against my chest, both of us breathing hard.
She's in my arms. Fully in my arms, her head still bobbing from the momentum, her chest heaving, her breasts jiggling with each gasping breath. Fuck. Even now, even with adrenaline spiking through my system and Daisy dancing nervously a few feet away, I notice her curves. Notice how perfectly she fits against me, how soft she is, how good she smells despite the sweat and fear.
Her eyes are closed, her face buried against my henley, her fingers clutching at my shoulders like I'm the only solid thing in the world.
"Lily," I rasp out, my voice rough. "You okay? Are you hurt?"
She opens her eyes slowly, and her gaze meets mine. We're so close. Too close. My head is tilted forward, my face mere inches from hers. I can see the individual freckles scattered across her nose, the way her pupils have dilated, the slight tremor in her plump lower lip.
"You saved me," she breathes out.
"I only did what was necessary."
My arms are still wrapped around her, holding her against my chest even though she's no longer in danger. I should let go. Should set her on her feet and put proper distance between us. But I can't seem to make my body obey.
A smile tugs at her lips, and there's something playful in it despite the fear that just coursed through her. "How can I say no to you now when you're my knight in shining armor?"
The tension breaks slightly. I can't help the grin that spreads across my face. "For a knight, I have the shittiest armor. Just a dirty henley and jeans covered in horse shit."
She laughs, the sound bright and genuine and so fucking beautiful it makes my chest ache. "Still counts."
I help her get back on her feet, steadying her when her legs wobble slightly. My hands linger on her waist longer than necessary, and she doesn't pull away. Just looks up at me with those green eyes that seem to see straight through all my defenses.
"Mason," she says, and this time her voice is serious. Clear. "I'd love to go out with you."
The words hit me harder than Daisy's hooves hitting the ground. Harder than any punch I've taken, any explosion I've survived. She said yes. Actually said yes.
"Yeah?" I need confirmation, need to hear it again to believe it's real.
"Yeah." Her smile is soft, almost shy. "I mean, assuming you can keep me from getting trampled by horses on a regular basis. That might be a dealbreaker."
I'm about to respond, about to tell her I'll do whatever it takes to keep her safe, when voices call out from the direction of the fence.
"Everything okay over there?" Tucker's voice carries across the corral, concern evident even from a distance.
I turn to see him striding toward us, Emma and Rosie running ahead of him. Rosie's face is scrunched up with worry, her little legs pumping as fast as they can.
"Mama!" she cries out, her voice high with distress.
Lily immediately drops to her knees, opening her arms just as Rosie crashes into her. "I'm okay, baby girl. I'm okay. Mama just got a little scared, but Mason caught me."
"The horsie was bad!" Rosie declares, glaring at Daisy, who's now standing calmly a few feet away like she didn't just nearly throw Lily to her death.
"The horse wasn't bad," Lily corrects gently, smoothing Rosie's wild curls. "Mama just wasn't holding on tight enough. It was my fault, not the horsie's."
Emma appears at my side, studying Daisy with the critical eye of someone who's grown up around horses. "She got spooked," she observes. "Did something startle her?"
"No," I admit, running a hand through my sweat-damp hair. "I wasn't paying attention. Let the lead rope go slack. My fault, not the horse's."
Tucker reaches us, his eyes scanning both Lily and me for injuries. "Anyone hurt?"
