Page 35 of Head Over Spurs

She was leaving.

“Thank you… for this. But I didn’t mean to interrupt your work.”

A hum of understanding passed from Riley’s lips. And she had a feeling that he understood what she was actually saying. The shield she was securing back in its rightful place.

He rose from his spot on the soft grass and adjusted his cowboy hat. His stride was less than smooth now, and she couldn’t help but worry that working on the fence actually was a bad idea for his back injury.

But Riley was a grown man. And not hers to worry about. Reaching for her bag, she busied herself with her camera. She captured the river, the classic Ford parked beside the tree, and the strong cowboy before her.

From this angle, he towered over the rolling hills of the basin. The compound just past his shoulder and horses meandering in their pasture behind him—all adding to the magic of the cowboy she was capturing on film.

Jules was already drooling over how Riley would look in the classic grain of developed film photographs when he finished the last post and lifted his shirt hem to wipe his brow. She quickly snapped another picture.

He was glistening in the sun. Sweat coating every inch of his exposed skin, a bead trailing down the side of his face. Lifting his hat off his face, he shot her a mischievous grin.

Another shutter of her camera.

“Wanna take a plunge?”

His fingers flew down his shirt, unsnapping. Then his jeans unzipped, her heartbeat picking up as she watched with bated breath. It was silly, feeling excited about seeing a man she’d already had sex with strip down. But that was another time, another place. It felt different.

She chewed on her lip as his pants slipped down off his hips. He was now standing before her in only his boxer briefs and that lightning bolt necklace.

And damn, he was devastating.

Her eyes traced over his defined shoulders, solid chest, and chiseled abs. But it was his leg muscles that her attention snagged on. And the scar running up his glorious thigh. How had he gotten it? She was suddenly desperate to know.

“Were you planning on joining me?” his voice rumbled.

Ignoring the flush that was creeping across her skin from being caught staring, she kicked off her boots and removed her own jeans. She bounded over to where he waited, one step into the water.

“This might be an awful idea,” he sighed, his eyes skimming over her tight tank top and cheeky panties.

“It definitely is,” she agreed, accepting his hand and dropping down into the water beside him anyway.

Wrapping an arm around her waist, he took a single step backward, and they sank together into the deeper part of the stream. She shivered from the sudden plunge, the ripples from their movement skimming across her breasts.

Riley’s arm tightened around her in response, pulling her flush against his chest.

“Did you have fun that night?” he asked carefully, a weariness to his gaze.

Slipping her arms up around his neck, she toyed with hishair as the corner of her mouth tipped up. He didn’t need to clarify which night he meant. “I don’t remember another time I had half as much fun doingthat.”

“So, then it was agoodawful idea,” he confirmed.

Pulling back to take in his full expression, she frowned. “It wasn’t an awful idea.”

His gaze softened. His hand tangled in her hair, tilting her face up to him. Beneath the water, his other hand skated down her waist, hip, and thigh, reaching her knee and hitching her leg up to hook around him. “Yet we are supposed to act like it didn’t happen,” he growled, dragging his nose along her jaw.

“I didn’t think it would be this hard,” she admitted breathlessly. “I figured that it would be out of my system.”

“And it’s not?”

His mouth moved to brush the shell of her ear, sending another shiver through her.

“You tell me.” Her voice was a whisper now.

Back up on the bank, a phone began to ring. Riley stilled, waiting to see if it would continue. When it did, a groan escaped him, his breath warming the side of her neck.

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