"Then why are you standing so close?"
"Am I?" He shifts even closer, one hand coming up to rest on the fence rail beside my head. Not touching me. Just boxing me in. "Hadn't noticed."
My pulse kicks up. "Liar."
"Prove it."
The challenge hangs between us. Addie's voice carries across the pen, talking to the colt, oblivious. The sun slants through the trees. Everything smells like dust and hay and the faint edge of his soap.
I reach up and push the brim back just enough to see him clearly.
"You're trying to distract me," I say.
"Is it working?"
"Maybe."
His eyes drop to my mouth. Stay there. "Good."
Then he's kissing me—not rushed, not desperate like those first nights, but slow and sure. Like he knows exactly what he's doing. Like he's got all the time in the world and plans to use it.
I kiss him back, hands sliding up his chest to his shoulders, and he makes this low sound in his throat that sends heat straight through me.
His free hand finds my waist, thumb brushing the bare skin where my shirt's ridden up, and I arch into him without thinking. He responds by pressing closer, his hips pinning me against the fence, and suddenly I'm very aware of every point where our bodies touch.
He breaks the kiss, but only just. His forehead rests against mine, breath uneven.
"We should stop," he says.
"Probably."
Neither of us moves.
His hand slides from my waist to my hip, fingers curling around the belt loop of my jeans. Not pulling. Just holding. Like he's considering his options.
"Addie's right there," I point out.
"I know."
"And Chace is probably around somewhere."
"Don't care."
I laugh against his mouth and he kisses me again, deeper this time, his tongue sliding against mine in a way that makes my knees weak. His other hand comes down from the fence to cup my jaw, tilting my head exactly where he wants it, and I let him because this—us—is still new enough to feel like stolen time.
Like something I mightwake up from.
His mouth moves to my jaw, then my neck, finding that spot just below my ear that makes me gasp. He knows it now. Learned it over the past two weeks. Memorized it.
"Eli," I breathe.
"Hmm?"
"We really should stop."
"You keep saying that." His teeth graze my neck and I shudder. "Not very convincing."
My hands slide into his hair, holding him there even as I'm telling him to stop. "Someone's going to see."
