Page 6 of Marry Me, Maybe?
The words wrapped around my spine like barbed wire dipped in sugar.
I’d like to call you sweetheart.
For a second, it was easy to imagine he wasn’t talking to the horse at all.
Junebug let out a soft snort, leaned forward, and caught my shirt in her teeth, pulling me toward her. Laughing, I stroked her mane the way she liked, and she melted into my touch.
“She really likes you,” he said. “Doesn’t usually let anyone touch her. You must be good people.”
I bit back a smile. “Must be.”
Hudson turned to look at me then, reallylook, and a flicker of heat flashed in his eyes. Maybe. I might have imagined it out of a desperate need to believe the attraction I felt wasn’t one-sided.
Dad didn’t say I couldn’t. He told me to be discreet. And I was no longer a fourteen–year-old boy. Hudson was younger than the last man too. Younger than the first had been.
I grinned, curling my fingers into the stall door. “Wanna make a bet?”
Hudson lifted his brows. “What?”
“I bet I can ride her.”
That earned a laugh, a rich, skeptical sound. “Her?The same sweetheart who nearly took off my thumb last week for sneezing too close?”
“Mmhm.” I unhooked the latch. “Watch and learn.”
He leaned against the stall frame, arms folded, interest gleaming in his eyes. “In case of an accident, I know mouth to mouth.” He winked.
Oh shit. He was flirting with me. I raised a brow, deliberately slow. “Then I’ll make sure I stop breathing.”
“You’re on.” He chuckled, low and warm, and damn if it didn’t sink right into my chest.
I stepped into the stall, and Junebug came to me like a prayer answered. No hesitation. No nerves. I rubbed her down gently, whispered a low hello, and tacked her up in record time. I might not have his pretty words, but she had my affection.
She was ready.Iwas ready.
When I walked her outside, the morning sun had split across the sky. The light hit her bronze coat like it had been waiting for her, and she tossed her head once like she knew exactly how good she looked. I was a sucker for beautiful things, such as the man trailing after me.
“Okay, you’ve been quite lucky so far,” Hudson said, the humor gone from his voice. “We should put her back. She belongs to the boss’s son, and Gray warned us that no one else but him and his son is allowed to ride her.”
“Watch me.”
I mounted smooth as silk and gave her a gentle nudge. She started into a light trot, ears flicking, muscles bunching beneath me as I guided her into an easy rhythm. Step by step, she gathered speed, like she was waking up with the sun. With the tight squeeze of my thighs, she stretched intoa full run, wind slicing past us as if she’d been waiting all morning for the chance to fly.
We took the trail along the ridge fast, wild,free, and I let her run hard. Let her stretch out. Let her remind me of everything I missed when I was buried in textbooks and surrounded by concrete.
Wind tore past my face. My heart raced with hers. It felt like flying. I almost forgot about Hudson waiting for us.
Reluctantly, I turned her back toward the barn, the adrenaline still buzzing in my veins. I hadn’t had nearly enough, and I felt the same stir in Junebug, the energetic whicker of her spirit not yet satiated.
We trotted in at a slower pace, sweat streaking both of us, dust clinging to my boots and shirt, and I was grinning like an idiot.
Until I saw Dad.
Hudson was still there, but no longer smiling. No longer easy. He stood stiffly beside my dad, arms crossed, jaw set.
The grin slid right off my face.
Hudson wasn’t looking at me the way he had before. Not with amusement. Not with curiosity.
