Page 31 of Ride Me Cowboy

This is a serious problem.

“I’ve been keeping people ‘round here safe all my life, and I don’t know how to stop. So would you just let me run along behind you?”

Would Ilethim? Now, that was better. Being asked makes all the difference.

“Fine,” I say, taking a step back, because if I stay where I am, I’m afraid my body’s going to do something really stupid like sway forward. Or my lips are going to move without my approval, begging him to kiss me all over again. Disaster.

“Try to keep up, cowboy,” I call over my shoulder, as I turn and begin to run.

Like last night, I hear him behind me. Not the pounding of horse hooves but the reliable thud of his footsteps. It doesn’t matter how fast I go, he’s there, and it’s a special kind of incentive to keep up my pace.

I’ve been running for maybe a mile or so when his hand reaches out and catches my wrist, jerking me to a stop, so suddenly that I back right up into him.

“Wait,” he says, unnecessarily. His body is so warm and musky, so strong and broad. I close my eyes and inhale, forgetting to be indignant, or even surprised, because the feeling of being here, pressed against him, is so incredibly intoxicating. “Now, look,” he says, his voice husky. I blink at him, and realize he’s pointing at the ground. Thank God. Maybe he didn’t notice my traitorous, tell-tale response.

“That there’s a rattlesnake trail,” he points to a nondescript squiggle on the path. He gestures to the longer grass besides us. “My guess is there’s a nest over there, in those rocks.”

“A nest,” I repeat.

“And at this time of day, they’ll be out, lookin’ for food. One’s probably just come through here.”

I shiver.

“Now, they’re probably not gonna kill you,” he says, like that makes me feel any better. “But they’ll hurt like the devil, and if you’re this far from the house, with no one knowing where you are, you could be in real trouble.”

Any hint of sass has been swallowed by the realization that he really is just trying to keep me safe. That yesterday, when he accused me of not knowing squat about the predators out here, he was right. I’m way out of my comfort zone and it’s dumb of me to presume that I’ll be fine, just because I want to be.

And here I was thinking I’d supercharged my survival skills since marrying Christopher.

“You just gotta learn what to look out for,” he says, stepping back and letting his grip on my hand go, so I shiver all over. At the prospect of what he’s saying, as well as the desolation at the distance he’s put between us.

“Okay.” I bite down on my lip. It’s not an apology but I hope he takes my contrition as acceptance, at the very least.

“Good.” He nods once. “Let’s keep moving, City Girl,” and he winks at me in a way that makes my whole body tremble. I run, just to escape that feeling—or at least, to hide it from him.

I didn’t intentionally go back to the abandoned house, but somehow, we end up here anyway. I glance up at him as we approach, and slow to a walk. He matches my pace, his stride long.

“What is this place?” I ask.

“You came here yesterday?”

I nod.

“You went inside?”

Another nod.

“Jesus, Beth. Do you have any idea what could be in there?”

I do now. After he showed me how to spot coyotes, bears, and about a million other predators. Frankly, I think I’m about done with ranch exploring now. The view from the office seems like a pretty good way to soak all this up.

Maybe he sees that on my face because he softens visibly.

“Yeah, okay, I’ll give it a rest.”

I glance up at him. “It’s okay,” I say. “You were right. I should have thought about what’s out here. I’m not used to any of this.”

“I should have prepared you better.”

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