My jaw tightens automatically. "Emma's got a big mouth."
"And then some… She said there was a relationship between all three of you."
"There was." I keep my voice carefully controlled, even though just thinking about it still feels like swallowing broken glass. "It was the best damn thing in my life. Thought we had something real, something that could last forever. Then Beau decided he was done, and she left too."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. I'm starting to think maybe anger makes you miss a lot of important details." I look at her then, let her see the vulnerability I usually keep buried under layers of sarcasm and attitude.
"Point is, I understand why you keep people at a distance. It's a hell of a lot safer than risking that kind of pain again… And yet here you are," I continue, my voice dropping lower, more intimate. "With me. Letting me get close despite all the risk."
She looks away, color rising in her cheeks like sunrise, but she doesn't deny it.
We eat in comfortable silence after that, watching the horses move across their domain. The sun warms my face, and I watch Lucy truly relax for the first time since I've known her. The constant tension she carries eases from her shoulders, and she looks younger, softer, like maybe the girl she used to be before whatever happened to put shadows in her eyes.
"Come on," I say when we finish eating. "Let's go say hi to the horses."
I help her up, her hand warm and small in mine, sending electricity straight up my arm. We walk to the fence, Tyson trotting beside us, and one of the mares approaches with curious eyes.
"Hey there, beautiful," Lucy murmurs, extending her hand for the horse to sniff. The gentleness in her voice, the pure wonder on her face as the mare nuzzles her palm, makes my chest go tight.
"Go ahead," I encourage, moving to stand behind her. "She likes being petted."
Lucy reaches up to stroke the mare's neck, and I step closer, close enough to feel her warmth, and place my hand over hers against the horse's silky coat.
"Did you know horses can sense fear?" I say softly, my mouth near her ear. "In a herd, they don't need words. One gets spooked, the others know instantly. They feel it in posture, in breathing, even heartbeat. They survive by staying connected, by tuning into each other."
I can feel Lucy's pulse under my palm, rapid and light like a bird's wing. But more than that, I can feel the way she leans back slightly, bringing her body closer to mine.
"When one runs, they all run," I continue, my voice dropping to barely above a whisper. "When one calms, the others do too. That's how they protect each other. A horse can feel your heartbeat from four feet away."
She turns in the circle of my arms, and when she looks up at me, her face is closer than I expected. Close enough to see the darker ring around her brown eyes, close enough to feel her breath ghosting across my lips.
"Lucy," I say, and her name comes out rougher than sandpaper.
"Colt..."
"I can feel your heartbeat," I whisper.
And then I'm kissing her, or she's kissing me, or we're both moving toward something that's been building since the moment she walked into my clinic and turned my world upside down.
Her mouth is soft and warm and perfect, and she tastes like sweetness and something purely her.
I cup her face with one hand, thumb tracing the curve of her cheekbone, while my other hand settles carefully at her waist, mindful of her bruised ribs. She fists her good hand in my shirt, holding me closer, and the small sound she makes in her throat nearly destroys what's left of my self-control.
The kiss is everything I didn't know I was starving for. Sweet but with an edge of desperate hunger, gentle but demanding everything she's willing to give. When we finally break apart, we're both breathing hard, foreheads resting together.
"Lucy..." I say again, and there's wonder in my voice, like I can't quite believe this is real.
"I know," she whispers, then pulls me down for another kiss that's hungrier, more desperate, like she's afraid I might disappear if she doesn't hold on tight enough.
The shift between us is seismic, fundamental, like the ground beneath our feet just rearranged itself into something entirely new.
Behind us, the mare snorts and Tyson's tail thumps against the earth in approval, but the world has narrowed to this: Lucy's face inches from mine, her breath still mingling with mine, and the terrifying, exhilarating knowledge that I just crossed a line I can never uncross.
She's looking at me like I'm something worth risking everything for, and God help me, I want to be that man more than I've ever wanted anything in my life.
19
