Page 113 of Ride the Sky

In the kitchen at midnight.

Under the eaves of the front porch.

Behind the barn.

Lord, I cannot stop kissing Wyatt Montgomery.

He’s the teenage make-out session I never knew I needed.The effect he has on my mouth is wicked. I crave him the second we’re apart.

He drives me fucking crazy.

Life for the last two weeks has been so domestic. So gross. So tedious. Laundry. Dinner. Long talks on the porch. And I’m enjoying every stupid second of it.

I like him in my house. I like waking up with him in the morning. It feels so natural, us together. It’s the happiest I’ve ever been. And it’s a red fucking flag that I’m not packing my bags and running. One thing’s for certain. I have too many feelings tangled up in a cowboy named Wyatt Montgomery. A cowboy who’s my husband. A cowboy I still have to divorce.

One day.

I’ve never been with a man like him. Not like this. There are no boundaries like we kept in the rodeo. One night spent in a hot tub, one kiss, erased them all. Well, almost all.

I held myself back about Aiden. How I still feel those ropes on my wrist. How I let everyone down by letting Aiden into ourlives. How I dated Aiden to hurt Wyatt because I wanted him. How my heart still screams for relief. At night, I try to muster the courage, but when morning comes, I lose my nerve.

It’s a burden no one else needs. Especially not Wyatt.

I’m in the barn feeding Lawless and Lovely their afternoon snack. Carrots.

“I can’t ride you yet, I’m sorry,” I tell Lovely as she nips at my hand. They’re both as antsy as I am. I look into her big black eyes. “I’ll turn you loose in the field, and you can run around like a fool, how does that sound?”

Lawless paws at the ground, nostrils flaring.

I hit her with a look. “Don’t throw a fit. You’re just fucking fine.”

Movement at the barn door, and Wyatt appears. His brow furrows in that broody way I’m used to. “You should have waited for me,” he says as he storms toward me.

My mouth quirks to the side. “I can do things myself.”

“Stubborn,” he murmurs, leaning in to kiss my lips.

I shouldn’t kiss him back. I shouldn’t slide my hands around his broad shoulders and hang on. But I do. I find I can’t stop. I find I need him.

Maybe I like playing house too much with Wyatt Montgomery. That’s what makes this dangerous. Because it’s all pretend, isn’t it?

I slant into his warm body, and Wyatt tugs me against his chest, our tongues brushing against each other, and then Wyatt pulls back and says, “Don’t get any bright ideas about ridin’ without me.”

I make a face at him, hating that he always knows what I’m thinking. “Maybe I already have,” I tease.

He swears. “Goddammit, Fallon, you’re gonna be the death of me.”

I grin and kiss him again. “Remember, I go first.”

“Fuck you.” He laughs, hooking his fingers through my belt loops and holding tight. His eyes darken. “I go first.”

“You worry too much.”

He feathers a big hand along my jaw, those bright-blue eyes shimmering. “Only about you, Trouble.”

Training sessions with Wyatt have pushed me even harder. By now, I can stay on the barrel for over ten minutes. My workouts are more intense and leave my leg and hip screaming. But my drive’s never wavered. I’ll get back on a horse. Soon.

I slam a hand against his chest. “Help me with chores, then.”

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