My dad lets out the tiniest hum. “Well, now, I can’t be telling you all my secrets, can I? Oh, look. It’s lunchtime.”
I follow his gaze toward the fields, the ranchers riding in for the lunch hour. My dad is already walking toward the main house, his beekeeper’s hat at his side. I catch sight of Oakley at the back of the group, the lingering pain over his absence lifting into something contented and bright.
Oakley must spot me, too, because he heads in my direction. There’s a grin on his face when he reaches for the rope at the side of his saddle.
“Oak,” I call out, taking a single step back. “Don’t you dare.”
“You better run,” he shouts.
Cursing, I drop the beekeeper’s hat and take off toward a nearby fence. It’s low enough I could hop over, but the sound of horse’s hooves is fast approaching. Awhooshcuts through the air before I can reach the barrier. It’s all the warning I get before Oakley’s lasso tightens fast around my chest.
I go careening to the ground, coming to a stop on my back and staring up at the cloud-dotted sky as Oakley jogs my way, laughing all the while. The moment he’s close enough, I give the rope he’s still holding a firm tug. He goes down, catching himself on his knees as he falls over my torso, my best friend continuing to cackle as if he’s having the time of his life.
“Caught you,” he manages, sounding winded.
“If my arms weren’t tied to my sides right now, you’d be getting smacked upside the head.”
Oakley seems to find that amusing, levering up enough for his gaze to rake down over me. “Huh. You look pretty good all tied up.”
“Oak. I swear to God.”
“Why are you dressed like a marshmallow?” he asks, apparently only now clocking the white beekeeper’s suit my dad outfitted me in.
“Untie me, will you?”
“I kinda like you like this,” he muses, his eyebrows bouncing ridiculously.
Oh, good grief.
“How about this,” I say evenly, my gaze drifting over Oakley’s face, those blue-and-brown eyes so close Ican see every fleck of color. “Later, when we don’t have half the ranch surely watching us, you can tie me up for as long as you want. And do whatever you want.”
Oakley’s breath catches, the man stilling. He licks his lips, and my gaze drops there. “Do you…wantto be tied up?”
“I don’t think I’d mind it,” I tell him truthfully, my stare stuck on his mouth. There’s some stubble there, which I knew, of course. But his lips look soft. I’ve only ever felt them on my neck and back. What would they feel like elsewhere?
Oakley clears his throat before shifting off of me, his cheeks flushed under the midday sun. He sets to work loosening the lasso, helping me to sit so he can tug it off over my shoulders. “All right?” he checks.
“Fine,” I tell him, glancing at the ranch house. Remi waves from the deck, a couple of the ranch hands beside him. I sigh. “Gonna get you back for this.”
“Yeah?” Oakley asks, tone light if not a little strained. Amusement dances in his eyes as he re-coils his rope. “And how do you plan on doing that?”
“Oh, I can think of many ways for you to make it up to me. And I don’t think you’ll complain about a single one of them.”
Oakley’s mouth drops open, the man staring at me for a second. “Jesus Christ, are you…”
“What?” I ask, hefting myself to my feet and shoving down the beekeeper’s suit, more than ready to be out of it.
Oakley shakes his head, swiping his hat off the ground before standing. “I just didn’t realize you had such a mouth on you, Law.”
“Oh, you know I have a mouth. You just aren’t used to me talking about sex.”
“Fair enough,” he says around a huff of laughter. “It doesn’t…feel weird to you?”
“Talking about it?” I ask, the two of us heading in the direction of Oakley’s horse, Clover, who’s waiting patiently for him to return. “No. Why would it?”
“I dunno. Just different for us, isn’t it?”
I consider that as we walk toward the stables, Clover in tow. Most everyone else is ahead of us, inside the house already. “Logically, yes, it’s different. But it feels like the easiest thing.”
