I pull him back down into a kiss, hands sliding up his back, and he responds by settling more fully against me. I can feel him, hard against my hip, and the wanting is sudden and overwhelming.
"Yeah?" he asks, voice rough, eyes dark.
"Yeah."
After, we lie tangled together on the blanket, the sun warm on our skin, the breeze carrying the scent of pine and wild grass. His arm is solid around my waist, my head on his chest, our breathing slowly evening out.
"This was a good idea," I murmur.
I feel his chest rumble with quiet laughter. "Told you."
"You're very smug about it."
"I earned it."
I laugh and swat at him weakly. He catches my hand, threading our fingers together, and brings them to his lips.
For a long time, we just lie there. Breathing. Existing. The world quiet except for the wind in the pines and the distant call of a hawk.
"Fall Classic's coming up fast," he says eventually.
"Ten days."
"You nervous?"
"A little. More for Addie than anything. She's ready, but it's still a lot of pressure."
"She'll be fine. She's got you." He pauses. "We've got a good thing going here, Hazel."
The words settle heavy in my chest.
"Yeah," I say quietly. "We do."
He's quiet for a moment, his hand still tracing patterns on my back. "After the Classic, with Renee's horses coming, and those other inquiries—we're going to need help. Real help. Maybe someone full-time to manage the cattle."
We.
There it is again.
"That makes sense," I manage.
"Mae mentioned you've been keeping track of everything. Schedules, clients, feed orders. Said you're good at it."
"It's just organization."
"It's more than that." He shifts so he can look at me. "You're building something here. We are."
My throat feels tight. "Eli—"
"I'm not asking for anything," he says quietly. "I'm just saying—whatever happens, whatever you decide—this place is better with you in it. I'm better with you in it."
The words land like stones in still water, rippling outward, impossible to ignore.
I want to tell him. Want to say that I'm thinking about staying, that I haven't told Denver yet, that I have six days to make a choice that feels impossible.
But the words stick in my throat.
Because what if I choose wrong? What if I stay and can't make it work? What if I leave and regret it for the rest of my life?
