Page 91 of Never the Bride
Standing in front of the mirror, I look at myself one last time. When Hess was gone, I snuck into his room and stole one of his plaid cowboy-looking shirts. I paired it with a white tank, high-waisted straight-leg jeans, and a pair of cowboy boots. The outfit is probably country girl overkill, but hey, this might be my only chance to go on a date with a real cowboy, so I’m making the most of it.
The air outside smells like rain and dust, fresh in a way that’s so rare in our desert summers. The storm left everything cooled off, the heat finally bearable, and now the sky glows orange, streaked with pink and gold.
Hess is already by the corral, waiting, one hand resting casually on the reins of a chestnut mare. I’d hoped he’d wear his cowboy hat, and I’m happy to report he is. Everything else about him is classic, from his clean white t-shirt and jeans to the stubble across his face.
When he turns, his eyes sweep over me in a slow appraisal that makes my skin prickle. His gaze lingers, and he doesn’t even try to disguise it. Then, softly, like my beauty stuns him, “Wow,” drifts out of his mouth.
“You’re easy to please.”
“You’re wearing my shirt.” His gaze does a twice-over my body.
I pull on the hem. “This old thing?”
“It looks good on you.” His head shakes as he tsks. “You’re going to make it real hard to focus tonight.”
“I’m just trying to keep up with you.”
And honestly, that’s the truth. Hess is the poster child for every fantasy I’ve ever had. So long, Tim McGraw. There’s a new cowboy in town.
He pats the horse’s neck. “I should’ve warned Daisy Duke she’s got competition for my heart.”
“Well, tell Daisy Duke not to worry. I don’t normally do animals. This is a one-time exception.”
His grin is crooked, like he knows something I don’t.
“Daisy, this ismy wife.” The slow, sultry way he says it has butterflies churning in my stomach. He leans down, murmuring into the mare’s ear just loud enough for me to hear. “She looks way too good tonight. I might be in trouble.”
I edge closer. “I heard that.”
“You were supposed to.” He smirks as he extends a hand out to me. “Get over here.”
Men, take note.
Thatkind of confidence is how to be effortlessly sexy.
I slip my fingers into his. His grip is steady and warm as he guides me to Daisy Duke’s side like I’m something special. When I glance up, his eyes are on me.
“Left foot here,” he says, tapping the stirrup.
His hand skims down my arm to my hip, steadying me, but instead, his touch does the opposite, throwing my heart off balance. I set my foot, and his palm presses against the small of my back, firm, supportive, urging me upward. Heat spreads where he touches me, even as I scramble awkwardly. He catches me again, strong hands circling my waist, lifting me just enough to swing me into the saddle. By the time I’m seated, my heart is racing. I don’t know if it’s from the physical exertion or Hess’s touch.
I guess it doesn’t even matter at this point.
His hand lingers at my knee, grounding me. “Not so bad, right?”
“Easy for you to say.” I grip the reins tightly as the horse shifts beneath me. “I’m a little out of my comfort zone, and I think Daisy Duke knows it. She’s about to have her way with me.”
“There’s nothing to worry about. She’ll do all the work. All you have to do is hold the reins.”
I’ve never felt more co-dependent in my life. But if this marriage has taught me anything the last few months, it’s not to hate co-dependency so much.
Hess mounts his own horse with effortless manliness that should be studied, and together we start along the well-worn trail. The corral fades behind us, and the land opens wide, bathed in pre-sunset fire.
I should be watching the view, but I keep stealing glances at Hess—the way his shoulders move with the horse, the easy confidence in his posture. He looks like he belongs here. And for the first time, I wish I did too.
The horses fall into an easy rhythm, hooves thudding softly on the damp earth. Hess rides close enough that our knees or thighs brush now and then.
“I don’t know why Daisy Duke keeps riding so close to your horse,” I say when our thighs touch again. I glance down at the horse's legs. “Are they going to trip each other?”
