Page 43 of Major Love

I’ve spent almost twenty years living in Nashville so I’m well aware of the saying.

You wear the hat, you ride the cowboy.

And this is one cowboy who I’m way too emotionally invested in to ride.

He swipes the rain from his forehead and glances down at me, his brow lifting.

“Why the hell not?”

I try to mumble the phrase as quietly as possible, which only makes him squint in confusion and yank me closer. “Huh?”

I groan out a laugh and yell back to him, “Do you know the phrase or not?”

“What phrase–?” he starts to ask, before his expression suddenly pauses, and then his cheekbones are flushing crimson as he drops his gaze and begins riding faster.

He shakes his head slightly before hastening another glance in my direction. Those stunning sparkling eyes of his look a little more vulnerable than they did seven seconds ago.

“Well?” I ask him, unable to restrain my own nervous laughter.

At the sound of it he smiles, chuckling quietly as his cheeks flush.

He swallows hard and nods his head. “Yeah. Heard it once or twice.”

“Once ortwice?!” I practically yell, and he looks down at me, smirking wryly.

“Didn’t mean it like that,” he rumbles honestly, releasing a chuckle when I try to turn back around.

He hauls my reins like a hardcore ranch-hand, flashing me a hint of a dimple when I reluctantly succumb to his steering.

“Arm’s startin’ to ache over here,” he teases quietly, lifting his cowboy hat out to me a little higher.

And when his eyes meet mine my heart thunders in my chest.

“Sunday,” he tells me, “you would be the first.”

“The first what?” I ask warily.

“The first woman to wear this hat.”

Jason’s a big guy and he’s hardly what you’d call celibate, but I can’t help the warm relief that instantly washes through me.

“Okay,” I whisper, swiping at my cheeks with the soaked sleeve of my jacket.

He casually slows down the stallions, eyes unblinking as they lock onto mine.

“Okay what?” he asks.

“Okay, you can put your hat on me–”

And I squeal as Jason yanks my reins, pulling my horse as close to his as possible, a smirk playing on his mouth as he looms over me.

“Say it again,” he demands roughly.

I roll my eyes in amusement. “Don’t push your luck.”

He swipes his tongue over his bottom lip, grinning down at me as my pulse races.

“Here,” he murmurs, jerking his chin at me, silently asking me to lean forwards so that he can place his hat over my hair.

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