Page 47 of Sweet Like Whiskey

I pick up my pace, all but grinning now. “It’sfine, Jack. I’m sure I can find my way back to the ranch by my—”

“You’re not goinganywhere,” he repeats, backing me up against Shorty’s side.

My breath puffs out of me, pulse thundering. “No?”

“You’re. Impossible,” he says again, his sharp blue gaze flicking between my eyes and mouth.

“No,” I counter, giving him a smile as my heart kicks. “I’m right here.”

Jackson’s lips are on mine before I can take a full breath. He presses forward, his body pinning me between him and Shorty.His kiss is brutal, and I’d almost think it angry if I couldn’t feel the desperation behind every movement. The scrape of his stubble and the nip of teeth. The way he groans low in his chest and how he grabs my jaw like he doesn’t want me going anywhere if it’s not with him.

I could tell him he has nothing to worry about, but speaking isn’t possible.

So instead, I grab Jackson’s jacket and urge him closer. His hips meet mine, and a flash of heat soars down my spine as I feel the very obvious evidence of his arousal through the denim of his jeans. I’m about to see what Jackson will let me get away with out here in the woods when the surface at my back shifts. I don’t know if our weight pushed Shorty to the side or he simply decided he’d be a cockblocking asshole, but both Jackson and I stumble as the horse moves a step away, our kiss coming to an abrupt end.

Jackson doesn’t let me go as the pair of us catch our breath. His hands stay fisted in my jacket, his face resting against the crook of my neck. He’s in my lungs, smelling like the wild, like this place. A sharp breeze and fallen leaves. Crispness and comfort. The smallest hint of sweet caramel.

He’s the first to step back, his cheeks flushed as he averts his gaze.

“So,” I cough out, tugging my jacket back into place. “There was talk of a picnic?”

Jackson lets out a small breath, nearly a laugh, as he returns to the open saddlebag on Starlight’s back. “Are you gonna be a shit about it?”

I feign offense. “Me? Give you trouble? Jackson, I’m offended. Truly.”

He shakes his head, lips pressed tightly together. “Come on,” he says, heading back up the hill with our food. I follow. Of course I do.

“Hypothetical question,” I throw out, stepping over an exposed tree root. “Is riding horseback with a boner uncomfortable?”

Jackson groans. It’s the answer I expected.

Ah well. Worth it.

Chapter 12

Jackson

Ash has a smile on his face as we exit the tree line at the start of the trail. His hair is ruffled and his cheeks bright, and I can hardly look away from him.

Him or those smiling lips.

“That was fun,” he says, breaking my trance as our horses walk side by side toward the stables.

I grunt, and he snorts.

“You had fun, too,” he says.

I don’t deny it.

“Pretty sure I’ll be sore tomorrow, but I don’t even care,” he goes on. “If your ass isn’t feeling it after a good ride, you’re not doing it right.”

The latter was clearly a joke—one that has my pulse skyrocketing—but his comment about being sore makes me pause. “It wasn’t too much, was it?”

He nearly rolls his eyes. “No, it wasn’t. I’ll be fine.”

He’llbefine. Not that heisfine.

I try to hold my tongue but can’t. “What d’you do? For your back, I mean. You said you have stretches?”

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