"She's something else," I agree, watching Kinsley laugh at something Madison said. They went to the ladies’ room together and I’m starting to wonder if I’m going to get my date back.
"She's brilliant. Where did you find her?"
"In my own back yard," I say, which is close enough to the truth.
"You lucky son of a gun." Dr. Harrison says with a chuckle.
He's right. Kinsley elevates my life.
Watching her cross the room with that easy smile and those curves, all I can think is: When can I get her alone? I'm done sharing her with the rest of the world.
The evening winds down with speeches that manage to be both heartfelt and mercifully brief. We clap for the last speaker and Kinsley leans over to whisper something to me. I lean in and touch her back.
"We should do something like this for the ranch. Bring in a bunch of influencers to woo over the politicians." She looks around, drinking in the details and memorizing them. "I think it could work."
"Let me know how I can help." I'm surprised that I mean it. I don't think my offer was for my parents or the ranch but for her specifically. She grins at me and faces thestage as the announcer reveals the schedule for tomorrow. I'm half-listening when I feel a familiar hand clap my shoulder.
"Wyatt." Dr. Mackey's voice carries that tone I know too well—the one that means business. "Got a minute?"
I turn, already knowing what's coming. "Doc."
"I need to clear you for competition before tomorrow's event." His eyes flick to Kinsley, then back to me. "Should have done it earlier, but I got caught up in the social hour."
I'd forgotten all about it, too. "No problem," I say, though part of me wants to tell him to stuff his medical clearance. "When and where?"
"Can you meet me at the arena? My laptop and equipment are in the med tent. How about we head over right after dinner? The junior rodeo should almost be wrapped up by then. Won't take long.”
I glance at Kinsley. "You mind a detour?"
"Of course not." Her smile is genuine, but I catch something in her eyes—concern, maybe, or just the realization that tomorrow I'll be climbing on something that could kill me.
But she’s got nothing to worry about—I got this.
A visit with Doc wasn’t how I saw the night going, but as long as it ends with Kinsley, I’m not complaining.
Twenty
STOP TALKING.
WYATT
The ride to the arena gives us our first real privacy since boarding the plane, and I can't stop touching her. My hand finds hers on the seat between us, my thumb tracing circles across her knuckles. When she turns to look out the window at the lights of Jackson Hole sliding past, I brush her hair off her shoulder just to feel the silk of it between my fingers.
"You were incredible tonight," I tell her, meaning every word.
Color rises in her cheeks. "Wyatt—"
"I'm serious." My free hand finds her face and lifts her chin. "Marcus Brennan's been to dozens of these events, and I've never seen him enjoy himself like he did when he talked with you. And David Richards? He’s going to make a killing on your recommendations"
"It wasn't anything special—"
"It was." The words come out with a low growl, weighted with emotions I'm not ready to name. "You're everything special."
She goes quiet, tilting her head, trying to figure out if I mean what I say. My other hand finds her knee, fingers trailing up to rest on her thigh.
"Wyatt," she whispers, but doesn't pull away.
I don't push—I can’t. I don’t want to come on too strong. Whatever's happening between us, it's moving fast enough to scare her, but the way she's looking at me now, the way she's letting me touch her gives me hope.
