Page 63 of Knot Your Problem, Cowboy
I follow him toward another paddock, trying not to notice how his back muscles move as he walks. Failing at that too.
“We’ll start you easy,” he’s saying. “Ranch this size, we use horses to check the property, bring in strays, help with the training school we run. You’d be perfect for that.”
“Like horse-riding lessons?” I perk up at something I might actually be useful for.
“Yeah. Got a group of kids coming in this morning, actually.”
We round the corner of a barn and emerge in asmall arena set up with obstacles, two people already working with horses, and yes, a yellow school bus pulling up in the distance.
“You’re not going to put on a shirt?” I ask, aiming for casual and missing by miles.
He chuckles, low and knowing. “Does it bother you?”
“No, why would it?” I shrug, but my face is burning, and we both know I’m lying.
“Good to know.” He’s definitely smirking now. “Wouldn’t want to make you… uncomfortable.”
The way he draws out that last word makes me think of other kinds of discomfort. The kind that involves needing a very cold shower.
“I’m fine,” I lie.
“’Course you are.” He leads me to where a horse stands in the shade, already saddled. “This is Junebug. Don’t let the name fool you, as she’s steady as they come.”
Junebug is a pretty bay mare, smaller than the one he was working with earlier but still intimidating when I’m standing next to her. I reach out tentatively to pat her neck, and she turns to nuzzle my hand.
“She likes you,” Cash observes. “Good sign. Now, put your left foot in the stirrup…”
He talks me through mounting, and I’m stupidly proud when I manage it on the first try, swinging up with onlyminimal awkwardness.
“Natural,” he says, grabbing the lead rope at the bridle.
I settle my hands on the split reins, trying to look like I know what I’m doing.
“Let’s see how you do moving.”
He starts walking, leading Junebug and me down a path toward the open meadow. The motion is strange at first, a rolling gait that makes me grip the reins probably harder than necessary.
“Relax,” Cash suggests without looking back. “She can feel if you’re tense. Horses are like that—they read emotions better than most humans.”
I try. I really do. But the view? Let’s just say riding behind Cash was a mistake. Every shift of his muscles, every glint of sunlight on his skin, makes it harder to breathe. And don’t even get me started on how his jeans ride low enough to tease things I have no business imagining this early in the morning.
My thighs are tense, my pulse is out of control, and I swear if this horse senses one more of myemotions, we’re both going down.
The silence stretches. My skin is hot, and it’s not from the weather. I need a distraction, fast, or I’m going to combust and take the horse with me.
“So… I hear you were at the diner last night,” I say, blurting it out. “Funny how you three would go there and not even come say hi.”
He chuckles. “We were there for dinner, not to get in your way. You think we’d stalk you?”
“Well…” I draw the word out, trying to sound innocent.
He shoots me a side glance, sin dancing in his eyes. “Uh-huh. Real subtle.”
We ride in silence for a few more steps, the clink of tack and the soft thud of hooves the only sounds between us. The open range stretches out around us like a damn postcard, lush green fields kissed by wildflowers, golden hills rolling toward a backdrop of hazy blue mountains in the distance. It’s breathtaking. Peaceful. Dangerous, too, in the way it makes me think I could maybe belong here.
Then I catch the flicker of a grin tugging at his mouth, sly, knowing, and I just feel that trouble is coming.
“Heard you had a fun time shopping with Walker,” he says casually, like he’s commenting on the weather.
