Page 79 of Dirty Cowboy

“Me neither.” I pick up my shirt and toss it her way. "Put this on. I don’t want you getting sick. I’ll turn on the heater in the stable."

She drops the jeans, slipping her arms into the sleeves as I help her button up. I tug on my boots, trying to focus on anything other than the way my shirt hangs off her shoulders, the way she smells like river water and something distinctly Emma.

She gestures toward the trees lining the shore. "Are those cherry trees?"

"They are." I take her hand again, leading her toward the widest one. "Come here. I want to show you something."

We stop beneath the thickest trunk, where deep carvings etch the bark. I run my fingers over the rough grooves. "These belong to my grandparents, Albert and Estonia. And these," I gesture lower, tracing another set of initials, "belong to my parents, Ethan and Joanne."

Emma reaches out, her fingertips ghosting over the carved hearts. I wonder if she’s imagining where ours would fit, if we were real. If this were real.

"It’s tradition to carve them in on the wedding day," I say, my voice softer than I intend.

She exhales. "That’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever seen."

She turns to me, eyes shimmering in the fading light. "Generations of love, right here in the bark."

"It’s beautiful in the spring when the cherry blossoms bloom," I tell her. "Whole place turns pink."

She smiles, and for a moment, I forget about the weight pressing down on my chest, the secrets, the lies, the damn expiration date on whatever this is between us.

She fits here, and I want her here. Forever.

I don’t realize how close we are until she tilts her head up, her body instinctively turning into mine. My arms slide around her waist, and she presses her hands flat against my chest.

"You’d fit right in," I murmur, the words slipping out before I can stop them.

Her breath catches, freckles stark against the blush rising in her cheeks until an owl hoots, breaking the moment. Maybe for the best, because if I keep saying shit like that, I might start believing it.

I step back, clearing my throat. "You’re shivering."

She nods.

"Let’s go home."

I take Dash’s rein, my boots squelching in the damp earth. The wet boxer-briefs cling uncomfortably to my skin, but it’s the least of my concerns.

Emma glances sideways at me, biting her lip, trying and failing to stifle a laugh.

"You’re walking back in your underwear?" she teases, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

I shoot her a flat look. "You got something against practicality?"

She smirks but doesn’t answer, her gaze drifting toward the horizon as Shadow pulls against the reins, nudging closer to her.

“She’s fast, isn’t she?” I ask, nodding toward the mare.

Emma strokes Shadow’s neck. “She carried me all the way to the west hill before I even realized where we were heading.”

She points east, a flicker of happiness lighting up her face.

“The east hill? That’s Harper Ranch. Steve mentioned getting a chestnut stallion for Shadow to meet.”

"That’s him! That’s Shadow's man!" She beams, eyes sparkling with excitement. “You should’ve seen them, Eric. The way they nuzzled each other. It was like watching a love story unfold right in front of me.”

I let out a low chuckle, shaking my head. “Four miles away, and she made the trip for love, huh? That damn horse never ceases to surprise me.”

Around us, the land stretches wide and open, a sea of tall grass shifting with the breeze. The horizon is endless, the sky burning with the last embers of daylight. It’s quiet out here, just the wind, the horses, and Emma beside me.