Page 40 of Merrily Mine
“So,together, huh?”
Mason grinned. “Better get used to it, darlin’. Because I’m not lettin’ go of you.”
I stood on my tiptoes to press my lips against his. “Glad to hear it, cowboy.”
And then I saw it. The perfect tree.
“That one,” I told him, feeling giddy. It would look perfect in the living room. “What do you think?”
“Yeah,” he answered. “Perfect.” But when I looked back up at him, he wasn’t looking at the tree. He was looking atme.
Mason squeezed my hand. “When we get back from dropping the tree off, I was thinking we could take the horses out for a ride.”
I couldn’t stop my answering grin. “Yes, please.”
“God, it’s really coming down out there,” I observed, standing at the open door of the barn. “Again.”Apparently, this was just going to be our thing. Getting caught together in snowstorms. Secretly, I liked that we had a thing.
Mason clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, wrapping his arms around me. “Good thing we came inside when we did.” Mason was all bundled up in his coat, wearing gloves and a dark green beanie.
We’d already stabled up our horses after our ride, brushing them both down and giving them a generous amount of hay to eat. Now we were just watching the snow fall outside as the sky grew dark.
The ride had been magical. There was just something about being on the back of a horse in weather like this. Montana was so beautiful, one reason I could never imagine ever leaving for good. I’d miss this place too much if I called somewhere else home.
He pressed a kiss on my forehead. “You okay if I go check on a few things?”
I nodded, wanting to use it as an excuse to explore. Wiggling out of my damp coat, I hung it on the hook. After we’d gotten back from our little date—and dropped the tree off at my parents’ house, setting it in the living room—we’d come back here and changed before going out to greet our horses.
A thousand memories flooded through me as I wandered through the stables. I’d spent so much time here when I was younger. Growing up, Mrs. Elliott had taught me to ride. Sometimes, Mason had even taught me lessons, helping me up onto the young mare I learned to ride on. My parents had bought me Smokey when I was twelve, tired of my begging to have a horse, and had built the small stable on our property.
The Elliott’s facilities were pristine, and the barn itself was warm, sheltered from the outside snow. One of their primary operations—besides running the guest ranch that brought them income throughout the year—was breeding and raising horses. I walked through the barn, seeing all the mares in their stalls. A few of them were heavily pregnant, and I expected there would be some foals coming in the next few months.
Giving a small whistle, I called over a beautiful palomino with a gorgeous golden coat. She stuck her head out of the stall, nuzzling into me like she was curious if I had anything for her. I pulled a sugar cube out of my pocket—I’d stolen a handful when we’d gotten inside—and then rubbed at her neck. “Such a sweet girl,” I said. “Look at you. So pretty.”
“Look who’s talking,” said the deep voice I’d gotten so used to.
Spinning in surprise, I turned to find Mason, a sexy smirk covering his devilishly handsome face. He rubbed his beard. “Having fun, baby?”
“Just keeping the horses company,” I replied, batting my eyelashes.
He grinned. “I could think of someone else who could use the company.”
My body heated at the suggestion. Truthfully, I was already about to combust. I’d been turned on since earlier. The sight of Mason tending to the horses while wearing that cowboy hat and tight red flannel was doing something to my insides.
“Yeah?” Biting my lip, I looked directly at him as I unwound my scarf from my neck. “And whatideasdid you have, cowboy?”
“Emily.” Mason’s voice was rough. “Darlin’.”
I took another step towards him, this time peeling my sweater from my body, letting it drop to the floor, exposing my dark green lacy bra that did nothing to hide my pebbled nipples.
Another step, and I flicked open the button of my jeans, kicking off my boots before pushing them down my thighs.
And then I stood in front of him, dressed only in my lingerie. My drawers were overflowing with matching sets—I wore them for me, because they made me feel pretty and feminine—but there was something about Mason’s eyes as he raked them over my body that made me know it wasabsolutelyworth it.
I stepped closer, running my hands up his chest, slowly popping each button on his flannel through the hole.
“Whatcha doin’, baby?” He murmured, reaching out and weaving his fingers through my hair.
“Remember what you told me in the bar?” I asked, biting my lip as I undid the last button, pushing his shirt down his shoulders.
