Page 26 of Rogue Cowboy
He turned his head, and she caught her breath at the flash of amusement in his eyes.His mouth was daringly close and a little scandalous imp stirred inside her.
She remembered how on the day and night they’d spent together, she’d thought about kissing him.Willing him to kiss her, wondering if she should make her first ever move.And now she’d missed that chance.The one inexperienced peck on the cheek when he’d left after their weekend together could hardly count as a memory or a kiss in his much more experienced life.
“You think you know what you’re doing?When’s the last time you saddled a horse?”It was fun challenging Cole.She could feel Cinnamon’s urge to play, and it was contagious.Riley felt electricity zip up her spine.
“Do I need a lesson?”
She shook her head slowly, raised her brows in challenge, daring him to respond.“Do you?”
“I’d be more incentivized if my cowgirl gives me a show.”
“Cole?”she protested.He couldn’t talk like that.She wasn’t his.Not really.
In one smooth move, he tossed her up and into the saddle like she weighed as little as a rag doll.She felt Cinnamon’s joy, and tucking her left leg into the grip, and testing it, she let herself slide over, tapping Cinnamon as she did, so she’d know where she was, and clucked for her to go.
From a well she’d thought dry, Riley felt something alive and daring tidal wave inside her and she heard Cole shout as she fell into the suicide drop, one hand dangling as she got the feel and then the other when she felt secure.Cinnamon made her first pass around the exhibition arena, and Riley’s body felt strong and alive and attuned to each detail—the feel of the late summer sun, the smells of dirt, sawdust, animal, dried grass, hint of autumn, and as she looked out past the arena toward the river with the glimmering birch and aspens and pines, Riley caught a glimpse of a dog belly-creeping toward the arena.It stopped, eyes on her, but when she circled around again, the dog was gone.
Maybe a mirage.Too much blood to her brain, but dang she felt like her teenage self again.Healthy.Confident.Ready for anything.Riley lifted her leg up and out, toe pointed toward the sky, and she felt free.She laughed as Cinnamon cantered past a stunned-looking Cole, and a small audience began to stand up on the rails to watch and Riley, who’d been hiding for so long, felt the tingle, the warmth of the sun rising in her chest, as she looked at the people gathering—most of whom she’d known for her whole life and theirs.
She stretched out, her body hanging between Cinnamon’s front and hind legs.She closed her eyes, savoring the feeling, and then used her abs to pull herself up.Gathering the reins, she hopped to standing, braced and kept her knees soft as she urged Cinnamon to kick up the pace.The kid inside her rejoiced.Sang.
Showtime.
What’s your favorite place to be?
???
You told me your favorite spot was toward the highest part of your ranch in a tree so you could look at the stars, and during the day you could see the glimmer of Miracle Lake.Is that still your go-to?
She’d told him that?Of course she had.She’d had zero filter with Cole before.But she hadn’t looked at the stars since she’d lost the baby that she hadn’t wanted and yet grieved in a way she couldn’t explain.Cole was the only one who knew—of the possibility of the baby, but he’d been too polite to ask.Or too uninterested?Had he too been relieved?She didn’t answer his question but posed a different one.
Do you think stars are souls?
I like that idea.Sounds like a song.
Sounded like hope and desperation and guilt all balled together.
What’s your favorite place?
Used to be on the east part of our ranch—a limestone outcropping above the branch of a river that runs through Last Stand.My cousins and I would jump off and swim, but a lot of times I just liked to lie there and look at clouds.Stars.We got that in common.But now…
What?
I don’t have a favorite place, but when I do, it will be where you are.
Chapter Six
“Ithought youloved guacamole,” Cole said later that night when they were at Rosita’s on what felt like an obligatory date because she’d once told him that chicken, cheese and pepper enchiladas were her favorite.And he knew about the guac from LA.
But she didn’t want to be an obligation to Cole.
And she didn’t want him to pay for dinner.
The server hesitated, watching Riley.
“I do, it’s just…” She trailed off, not wanting to say that her favorite treat was too expensive.It would sound insulting, and Rosita’s Mexican Grill was a family-owned and run restaurant.But she was hyper aware that she helped her mom at the ranch with the horses.Sure, she did chores, but she didn’t have a specific job with a salary.She didn’t have outside employment or a side hustle like her brothers.She still lived in her childhood bedroom.
“You loved guac in California.You said it should be its own food group.”
