Page 44 of Sweet Like Whiskey

“They’ll hold up better than what you had,” he allows, giving my leg a pat that has azingtraveling up my body. He rounds the horse to check my other stirrup.

“You can tell me I look good in my new boots, Jack.”

“You’re impossible,” he mutters. He fixes my second stirrup before declaring me good to go.

I’m about to fire off a retort—why yes, I’m always good to go around you—when Jackson grabs his horse’s saddle and swingsup into riding position in a motion so seamless and fluid, I don’t even remember seeing him leave the ground. I blink, my breath suddenly coming short.

Ho boy.

“Ready?” Jackson asks, gathering the reins in his hand.

“Ready and raring,” I rasp.

Jackson clicks his tongue, and Starlight sets into motion.

I stare at the man’s assfor a moment. “Good grief,” I mutter, getting Shorty moving after him. Speaking louder, I ask, “How far are we going?”

“However far we want,” Jackson answers. “We’ve got a few different trails marked out. The longest ones reach the base of the mountains.”

I look off in that direction. The mountains are closer here than in town, but they still seem so far away.

“Does anyone ever get lost?” I ask.

Jackson huffs what might be a laugh. “No. We know these trails. And guests aren’t allowed off on their own.”

That’s reassuring, at least.

Jackson leads me to the tree line at the back of the property and then directs his horse through a break in the vegetation, me at his heel. We settle into a leisurely walk along a well-trodden dirt path, the sun intermittently blinking through the leaves of the trees. It’s quiet. Just the soft sounds of birds and the occasional moo accompany the clomp of the horses’ hooves.

I look around, content to enjoy the scenery and the gentle side-to-side sway of riding horseback. I also can’t help but enjoy the gentle sway of Jackson’s ass. I’m only human.

It isn’t long before there’s a split in the path. Jackson goes left, sticking close to the tree line. I catch sight of someone out in the pastures, but they’re too far away to tell who it is.

“You can talk, you know,” Jackson saysafter a while.

“Oh, you’re giving me permission, are you?”

He glances back at me, a subtle roll of his eyes visible before he faces forward again. “Like you need permission. I just mean—I won’t mind.”

I hum to myself. “I was enjoying the view.”

He looks over his shoulder again.

“Very nice trees,” I say with a smile.

And truthfully, they are. The leaves have started changing color, some of the foliage more yellow now than green. There’s even some red and purple. I bet, in another week or two, it’ll be an autumnal masterpiece.

Jackson grunts an, “Uh-huh,” clearly doubting which views I happened to be enjoying.

Never one for subtlety, I add, “Your ass is nice, as well.”

“There it is,” he murmurs.

I huff a laugh.

I’m not sure how far we go distance-wise, but we ride for a good hour before Jackson leads us up a gentle incline. The path isn’t as wide here, and lower vegetation brushes my legs as we move. When Jackson stops in a small clearing, I do the same. He jumps down off Starlight’s back and walks my way, not even tying his horse to a tree or anything. I guess he trusts him.

“Am I getting down?” I ask.

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