Page 35 of Saddle and Bound

I can’t help the way my chest tightens. My pulse thunders as she crosses the sand toward us, her hips swaying like a melody I can’t ignore. She knows I’m watching. Hell, the entire beach probably knows I’m watching.

I swallow hard, trying to maintain my usual composure as Rosie and the other girls approach the bonfire. The chatter around me seems muffled, as if I were underwater. All I can clearly perceive is her.

"Hey, cowboy," Rosie greets me with a smile that could light up the entire ranch. There’s a confidence in her voice I’ve never heard before. Her stance is relaxed, and it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. The knot of her shirt hugs her chest, and I’m practically drooling.

"Hey, princess," I reply, surprised I can string together a coherent sentence. "Or should I say cowgirl?"

She throws me one of her smoldering looks, and all I want to do is whisk her away and make her mine.

Whose idea was it to spend an evening together like this? How did I think it was a good one?

"How about just calling me Rosie?"

Before I can answer, Fran steps in, handing Rosie a bottle of beer. "Welcome, ladies! You’re all stunning tonight."

Rosie accepts the beer with a smile, her eyes never leaving mine as she takes a sip. The way her full, red lips wrap around the neck of the bottle makes my throat go dry.

My thoughts turn filthy, unbidden, and I curse under my breath.

Right now, I’d give anything to feel those lips wrapped around me, to taste her, to lose myself in her entirely.

"So, Alex," she says, stepping a little closer. Her intoxicating scent fills the air, that fragrance that has become my obsession. "Ready to show a city girl how to have fun on a ranch?"

Her tone is playful, but there’s an edge of challenge in her words that reignites something inside me. Our usual game of teasing, but with a new intensity.

I’m glad to see Rosie isn’t holding a grudge for how stupid I acted before. This is our unspoken truce, our way of apologizing and making peace.

"Always ready, princess," I reply, finding a bit of my swagger. "But are you sure you can keep up?"

She raises an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at her lips. "Oh, I think you might be the one who needs to keep up, cowboy."

The electricity between us is palpable, so much so that I wonder if others can feel it. But before I can say anything else, Chris starts playing a more upbeat song and the girls drag Rosie towards the improvised dance area.

I watch her as she moves to the rhythm of the music, her hips swaying hypnotically. I can't take my eyes off her, and I realize I'm not the only one. I see Jake and his friends watching her admiringly, and I feel a pang of... jealousy?

"Dude," Fran's voice brings me back to reality. "If you don't do something soon, someone else will.”

?

Chris stopped playing some time ago, and the music has been replaced by a pair of Bluetooth speakers. I still haven’t made my move. I feel frozen, my gaze anchored to Rosie, who’s utterly magnetic. I find myself staring at her, unable to look away. The way she moves, confident and seductive, makes my throat dry. I watch as the guys drift toward the dance floor, but I remain stuck in place, weighed down by a foreign, unwelcome feeling that’s been gnawing at me ever since I noticed the way their eyes lingered on the girls. On Rosie.

I can’t stop watching her. Then I see Jake edging closer, too close to Rosie’s direction, and the jealousy burns hotter inside me. I can’t bear to see her laughing at his jokes, moving with grace to the rhythm of the music. They start talking, and their conversation flows easily, her laughter bright and unrestrained. It cuts deeper when I think about how I can barely string together a normal conversation with her.

Every now and then, Rosie casts a glance in my direction, and I wish I could look away. But I can’t.

Fran strolls over, handing me a beer. “Man, you look like you’re about to explode,” he says with a smirk.

I take the bottle and drink deeply. “Don’t know what you’re talking about,” I mutter.

Fran raises an eyebrow. “You’d make a terrible poker player. Why don’t you just go over there and get your girl?”

“She’s not my girl,” I reply automatically, but the words sound hollow, even to me.

Just then, the music shifts. A slow, sultry country ballad fills the air. I see Jake moving closer to Rosie, his hands sliding to her hips.

That’s it.

Taking a deep breath, I finish my beer and stride toward the dance floor. Rosie spots me as I approach, her eyes locking onto mine. Her gaze could set the entire ranch ablaze. She arches an eyebrow, then turns her back to me, returning her attention to Jake.

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