"I'm evaluating a horse."
"And finding problems that aren't there."
"They are there."
"Then tell me where." She didn't back down… didn't give me an inch. "Show me what I'm missing. All I've heard from you is that he's quiet, he's got a good foundation, his structure is clean, and he moves honest. That sounds like a prospect worth training. So either you're wrong about all of that, or you're wrong about this."
I opened my mouth then closed it again. She was right. The gelding was solid. Green, yeah, but solid. Any other rider, any other circumstance, I would've told them the same thing I'd told her, that he has a good foundation, needs work, but would be worth the investment if someone has the time.
But I'd added the caveat. The warning. The subtle suggestion that she should keep looking.
And I'd done it because I wanted her to walk away. Not from the horse. From me.
"You don't trust me," she said.
"I don't know you."
"Then get to know me." She tilted her head slightly, studying my face like she was reading a horse and looking for one of the small tells. "Or admit you don't want to."
The air between us felt too thin and too heavy all at once. Her scent surrounded me. She wasn’t wearing perfume. Just clean skin and leather and something warm underneath it. I could see the faint freckles across the bridge of her nose, the small scar at the corner of her jaw, and the way her pulse beat steady at the hollow of her throat.
She didn't look away and didn't step back. Didn't give me the space I needed to think straight. And I stopped trying.
That’s when I kissed her.
It was instinct and frustration and something I couldn't name colliding at the same time. My hand came up to her jaw, my fingers curling against the warmth of her skin, and she didn't pull away. She leaned into it, into me, like she'd been waiting for this exact moment.
Her mouth was soft and sure. I felt her hand press against my chest. Not pushing me away. Just grounding herself. Anchoring the moment before it spun out entirely. And that's what broke it.
This wasn't just attraction. Wasn't just heat burning off the tension we'd been building since she walked onto my property two days ago. This was something that could take root.
I pulled back just enough to break contact. Enough to remember why I'd been keeping my distance.
Her eyes opened slowly, focused and steady, still locked on mine.
"That was a mistake," I said.
Her expression didn't change. "Was it?"
"Yeah." I dropped my hand from her face, stepped back fully this time. Put the space between us that should've been there all along. "It’s not happening again."
She watched me for a long moment then nodded. "Understood."
But she didn't look away. And I couldn't shake the feeling that the line I'd just drawn wasn't nearly as solid as I needed it to be.
CHAPTER 4
WAVERLY
Even though every cell in my body urged me to grab Tanner by the shirt and haul his lips back to mine, I shoved my hands in my pockets instead. If he didn’t want to acknowledge the heat between us, I wasn’t going to either.
"I'm going to pass on the gelding," I said.
Tanner's jaw tightened, but he nodded. Didn't argue. Didn't ask why. "Your call."
"He's a good horse," I added. "Someone will be happy with him. But he's not what I need."
"What do you need?"
