Page 130 of Rough Ride

“I’m sorry! It’s just really important to me that everything is perfect tonight. This is the first time Liz has brought her whole family.”

“Don’t take it personally,” Johnny said, clapping Eli on the shoulder. He then opened the grill and grabbed a cleaning brush. “I’m sure there are plenty of things you’re better at than me. And when we eventually discover what they are some day, you can gloat all you want.”

“I’m better in bed, right?” Eli asked.

I leaned down and kissed him. “You’re definitely the best with your tongue.”

“Ah hah!” Eli said, leaping to his feet and thrusting his guitar into the air. “I’ll take cunnilingual superiority over grilling meat any day.”

“I’ll take it, too,” I said, giving him a wink.

Eli fanned himself with his free hand. “Careful, darlin’. With talk like that, you’re liable to get me all hot-n-bothered.”

“Have you seen Sawyer?” I asked.

“He’s presently speaking to his therapist,” Eli replied.

“Liz will be here any minute,” I warned them. “Make sure you censor yourself once they’re here. No cunnilingus talk around the kids.”

“It’s never too early to learn,” Eli said with a grin.

“Billy isfour,” I snapped at him.

Eli’s smile disappeared. “I, uh, got carried away with my joke.” He removed his hat and held it over his heart. “I would like to formally apologize to everyone in attendance.”

“No apology needed—as long as you don’t talk like that when they’re here!” I said, walking away.

“She likes my tongue best,” Eli teased.

“She likes mine just fine,” Johnny replied.

“Yes, but mine’sbetter.”

“Well, when she bites into a perfectly-cooked porterhouse tonight and moans with delight, I want you thinking about who made the steak.”

Their argument dimmed behind me as I walked from the farmhouse toward the barn. I passed the coop that houses our chickens, most of which were pecking for worms in the open air. Joline, our dairy cow, was idly nibbling on some grass nearby—she was well-behaved and never drifted far from home, so we usually let her roam free during the day.

On the other side of the barn was our garden. Twelve rows of well-tended dirt where we grew lentils, peas, carrots, and tomatoes. Sawyer was on his hands and knees in front of thatlast row, gently tending to the tomato vines running along a wooden lattice.

“Got any carrots?” I asked.

Sawyer turned and smiled at me, then tilted up his hat to look me in the eyes. “I’ve got a carrot for you. Abigone.”

“Eli made the same joke,” I said with a smirk. “You’re more like him every day.”

A smoldering scowl covered Sawyer’s face in the blink of an eye. He stood up. “That’s the cruelest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

I threw myself into his arms and kissed him. “Doesn’t mean it’s not true.”

He wrapped his arms around me, keeping me from pulling away. “I just picked four carrots to go with dinner. You can have one if you give me another kiss.”

“It’s not for me. It’s for Applesauce.”

Sawyer’s voice was deep and throaty. “I don’t want a kiss from Applesauce.”

He pulled me into another kiss, this one rougher and hungrier than the first. I closed my eyes and lost myself in the moment—held tightly by one of my cowboys, a soft prairie wind stirring our hair as our lips churned together.

Yeah.Thiswas freedom.

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