Max, Now
Daisy grunts as one of the hairiest men I’ve ever seen helps her onto a chocolaty-brown horse. As she settles in, my attention slides to her ass, which looks perfect perched on a saddle. The visual transports me instantly to the other night—the warmth inside her, the mesmerizing rhythm of her gyrating on top of me, the satisfying rush of her coming against my mouth.
“Need an assist?” The ranch owner is a stout, mustachioed man with a juicy smoker’s cough that’s an insanely effective antidote to the semi growing in my pants.
I thank him but manage on my own. He’s brought over a stunning black mare, and once I climb onto the saddle, I pat her on the side. “Good girl,” I say, stroking her mane.
“Mr. Cowboy over there.” Daisy lets out a breathy laugh, her cheeks the shade of a setting sun.
“Ride often?” the man asks. His bushy brows arch upward in surprise.
“Now and then. An ex-girlfriend of mine grew up outside Dublin on a farm. I spent some holidays there.”
Daisy clears her throat and pivots her body away from me. “We’ll go down Glimmering Canyon Loop.”
“Helmet for either of you?”
Daisy used to work here and said he would ask, even though they’re optional. I signed a waiver, and we’re not planning anything strenuous, so we both decline.
He sticks a satellite phone in her saddlebag, and we set out on a trail wide enough for us to travel side by side. The ground has a sandy texture here, and the horses’ hooves squish with each step. The land rises to hills on either side, so some splintered tree trunks and small boulders have collected in the center—something that happens after a rare, heavy rainfall.
She flicks her attention to me, my hands on the reins, and then back to the path, which is strewn with a few broken-off cacti and wiry twigs. “We should talk.”
“That sounds ominous.”
Her playful glare forces the corner of my mouth to twitch.
“Is there a reason we’re talking on horseback?” I ask.
Her horse’s pace slows, and he huffs, followed by letting out a thundering fart that seems to echo off the terrain.
“Neutral location,” she says. “Somewhere we won’t be distracted.”
As if on cue, her horse halts completely for a bathroom break.
“Well, I don’t know about you,” I say, waving my hand against the earthy manure scent, “but I’m not distracted at all.”
“Max.” Daisy tilts her head and her face cracks into a reluctant smile. She clearly doesn’t want literal horseshit to be the reasonshe devolves into giggles, but she does anyway. “Damn it. Gwen did not think this through.”
“What about Gwen?”
She snaps her wrist and heels Derry gently on his side. “I stopped by her store last night.”
So that’s where she was. I’d lingered in the living room, thinking she might walk in the door anytime. Maybe hoping.
“I told her what happened. With us.”
This causes me to pause. As much as I’ve wanted to scream from the mountaintops that we slept together, I haven’t told a soul. Keeping it between us was never part of the agreement, but I didn’t think we had to explicitly lay that out.
“What did you tell her?”
“Girl talk.” She shrugs and tosses me a coy look. “Dawn was there too.”
“Anyone else?” I ask, half joking. Telling other people makes it feel less special, less important. Daisy never even toldmehow she liked our night together. While heated images of her wrapped up in me will keep my mind and hand busy for years to come, what if the experience wasn’t so stellar for her?
“Did you invite Sal?” I go on. “Or that nice lady at the gas station?”
“I wouldn’t have spent the evening talking about you if I hadn’t enjoyed it. I had fun.” She catches my gaze and smiles in a way that makes me speechless. “It was good things, Max.”
