“Don’t look now, but here comes my brother.”
I practically pull a muscle in my neck to look for Cade. My eyes clash with blue ones as he moves from the opposite side of the barn to where I’m standing with his sister, Charli. Collin and Lizzie left a few minutes ago for work, both scheduled at the bar this evening.
“Doing okay?” he asks the moment he reaches my side.
“Of course she is. She’s with me. Go away so we can talk about you,” Charli insists, making me smile.
“Well, you’ve talked about me long enough. I’m stealing her away,” Cade tells his sister.
“Fine, whatever. I’ll just go over to that big group of single guys and hang out there,” Charli sasses, making me giggle when she flashes a wolfish grin to her brother.
“Charli,” he grumbles as she saunters away, but it’s no use. She continues on her way, as if he didn’t say a word. “She’s going to be the death of me.”
“She’ll be fine, Cade. None of those guys are going to fuck with her,” I state, praying it’s true. But I’ve been watching them all for hours, talking to a few of them, and generally getting to know the people Cade considers friends. I truly believe none of them would touch her. The respect they all have for each other is evident. Many of them are more than just friends.
They’re family.
“They won’t if they know what’s good for them,” he replies gruffly before returning his attention to me. “Anyway, are you ready?”
“For?”
His grin is wolfish. “Your ride.”
Ignoring the heat in my cheeks, I toss my water bottle in a nearby trash can. “I am.”
Cade takes my hand and walks me into the barn. I’ve already met Winnie and Rough Rider, Wyatt’s horses, but they still grab my attention as we pass by. Winnie neighs, letting us know she’s not happy to be passed by, so I silently promise to visit with her again when we return.
I’ve never been around horses. Hell, I’ve never been around a farm like this. Cows, pastures, and so much open space it takes your breath away. It’s completely opposite of the city where I came from, and I can easily see why so many people move to these parts of the world and never leave.
We walk to a back area of the barn where four ATVs sit. I know one is Collin’s, because Lizzie and I talked about it earlier, and another belongs to the man standing beside me. Wyatt owns one, and from what I’ve gathered, the fourth is Camden’s.
Cade walks over to one parked along the wall and climbs on. It’s a larger, orange machine, the word Rancher across the side by the handlebars. He fires it up, pushing the throttle button. He puts it in gear and drives forward, giving me enough space to climb on. He shifts forward on the seat, holds out his hand, and says, “Normally, we’d wear helmets, but we’re just putting around the farm. Hop on.”
Placing my hand inside his, I set one shoe on the footrest and swing my leg over. My sitting position is basically with my front pressed right against his back, my arms wrapped around his waist. I inhale, catching a unique mixture of woodsy soap, deep-fried food, and a touch of sweat. What’s wild is how much I like it.
Does that make me a weirdo?
I’m pretty sure it does.
“Hang on, beautiful,” he says, just before I feel the machine jolt forward.
My arms tighten, my chest presses firmly against his back. But I have no time to worry about it, because we’re moving swiftly across the property, riding alongside a fenced-in pasture with cows, and heading away from the house. Once we turn the corner and reach a straightaway, he taps my arm. “Hold on.”
I tighten around his waist moments before he guns it, and we shoot forward. A scream flies from my mouth, but it’s not one of fear. It’s of freedom, because that’s exactly what this feels like. The wind blows my hair and burns my face. There’s a rumble between my legs, vibrating up my spine. The landscape passes by so fast it barely registers.
And the man I’m holding on to for dear life is at the root of it all.
When we reach trees, he slows way down and carefully turns into the timber. We scoot around, but at a much slower pace than just a bit ago. I’m able to sit back a bit and take it all in, keeping my arms wrapped around his waist, of course.
We move through the trees on well-worn paths. I watch squirrels chase each other, see downed trees that have been cut up and appear to be ready to be moved, and a slice of water rushes by the banks of a shallow creek. It’s a beautiful piece of land, and the more I see, the more I feel content and comfortable.
He slows and eventually parks beside the waterway. “Well, what do you think?”
“Of the scenery or the ride?” I ask, finally letting go of his waist and sitting back just a bit.
“Both.”
“Well, for my first ride, it was fun. A little faster than I expected at first, but I felt safe with you. And then when we got here and the beauty is almost overwhelming,” I tell him, just as a fish jumps from the water with a splash.
