Andi
The early Julysun was ruthless, hanging high and bright above us while Zane and Luke unloaded the horses from the trailer. I leaned against the back tire, fanning myself with the collar of my shirt and silently questioning all of my life choices as I tried to getanykind of breeze down my back. It didn’t work, and my sleeveless top clung to me like a second skin.
“You doing all right?” Norah asked, leading her mare around the trailer. She, on the other hand, somehow didn’t look hot at all in her turquoise shirt, dark jeans, worn boots, and wide-brimmed cowboy hat.
I gave her a tight smile. “I’m fine.”
Lie. I felt like I was melting from the inside out. How they were all wearing long sleeves without collapsing was beyond me.
Zane came around the trailer with Cash, tying him off and checking the saddle with focused hands. I watched him for a beat longer than I should have. The sleeves of his blue snap-front shirt were rolled to the elbows, exposing tan forearms and just a hint of muscle that did things to my body I wasn’t ready to talk about.
Or think about. Or feel.
Especially not again.
We’d kissed, more than once, and the memories of each one kept flaring up at the worst times—like now, when I was sweaty and sunburned and definitely not in a position to be catching feelings for a cowboy I had no business wanting.
But, damn, did I want him anyway.
There was something about Zane that made all of my caution slip away. His quiet strength. That slow grin he didn’t hand out often but wrecked me when he did. And when he kissed me? God. It was the kind of kiss that told me—showed me—exactly how that mouth, those hands, and that body would translate in other settings, in other situations…preferably without clothing and definitely without an audience. Which only made things worse, because I wasn’t supposed to stay. And I’m pretty sure guys like Zane weren’t the kind you touched and walked away from easily.
“What time’s the team roping again?” I asked, trying to sound casual.
“About another hour,” he said. “Why?”
I shrugged and wiped a bead of sweat from my forehead. “Trying to decide if I’m gonna survive that long.”
Without a word, he crossed to the truck, popped open the cooler, and came back with two water bottles—one extended toward me. The moment my fingers touched the cold plastic, I could’ve kissed him.
And that was the problem.
I wanted to.
Again.
“My hero,” I breathed, placing it against my cheek before taking a long sip.
He watched me, his gaze soft and easy, and took a sip from his own bottle just as someone called his name from the other side of the trailer. We both turned to see a tall, lean cowboymaking his way over. He looked familiar with the place and way too comfortable in this heat.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” he said, giving Zane a firm handshake. “Didn’t think I’d see you out here. How the hell’ve you been?”
Zane smiled just enough to pass for friendly. “Doing good, Tim. It’s been a minute.”
Tim chuckled. “Yeah, more like a whole year. Thought maybe you’d skipped town or gone full hermit on us.”
“Tempting,” Zane said dryly.
Tim’s eyes landed on me next, and he tipped his hat. “And who’s this pretty thing?”
“Not a thing,” I said, pleasant but firm. “I’m Andi.”
Tim blinked, then grinned like he respected the pushback. “Well, Andi, it’s a pleasure.”
I nodded with a tight-lipped yet pleasant smile, but something in me bristled. Not because Tim meant any harm—he didn’t, I could tell that much—but I'd been called worse by someone who was supposed to love me.
“Y’all got plans next weekend?” Tim asked, turning his attention back to Zane.
He shrugged. “Nothing right now I can think of.”
