Page 52 of Ride Me Cowboy

“Yes, you can,” he insists, his eyes boring into mine. I hold my breath, trying to let his confidence wash over me. The funny thing is, when Cole says stuff like that, I actuallydobelieve him.

I move forward, pausing to brush my hand over Rowdy’s back, behind the saddle. “Hold on here,” he gestures to the front of the saddle. Our hands brush as I move as he directed, and my skin lifts in goosebumps anew. The moon is high tonight, and a perfect blade of silver cuts down on us, so Cole’s face is shown in shadows, all angles, symmetry, and perfect jawline. I lose my breath a little, just looking at him.

“Good,” he murmurs his approval, unaware of my distracted thoughts. I swallow, trying to focus. “Foot in.” He keeps one hand on Rowdy’s neck, the other holds a stirrup for me. I place my left foot there, still feeling like he’s asked me to scale a ten-foot-high fence using my bare hands. “Now you’re gonna lift up when I say.” To Rowdy, he murmurs, “Stay, boy.”

Then, before I can comprehend what’s happening, he’s right behind me, hands on my hips, so close behind me that when he says, deep and low, “Lift up,” I feel the warmth of his breath against the back of my neck. My knees go so shaky I have no ideahowto do that, but his hands tighten on my hips and he’s lifting me, so it only takes the tiniest of movements from me to gain momentum.

“Leg over,” he says, and if I weren’t so deathly scared of the enormous beast he’s placing me on, I’d have shot him an amused glance at that unintended double entendre. But I don’t. I focus on doing what he’s said, kicking one leg over Rowdy, somehow managing not to clock Cole in the face—though I think that’s more to do with his skillful dodging than my coordination.

And just like that, I’m on. Sitting in a hard, leather saddle, this magnificent horse beneath me. Instinctively, I reach forward and wrap my hands over Rowdy’s neck, stroking him there. “Hey, boy,” I murmur, hoping we’re still friends.

Hoping…I can’t hope. I can’t think. Before I can even get settled, Cole’s hoisting himself up right behind me.

I meanrightbehind me.

Like, two adult humans occupying one saddle—albeit a decent sized one—means his big, thick thighs are pressed right against my legs, his whole body is wrapped around me. His face is right there, next to my cheek and my insides are pure jelly.

“You okay?” I glance down at his hand, fisting around the reins, right in front of me. My mouth’s too dry to let me form words.

I nod.

“Not scared?” he prompts.

I’m terrified. Not of Rowdy, but of how much I want something to happen with Cole. Scared of how much I need him even when I know that’s complicated and messy, and probably a million shades of wrong.

I shake my head a little.

“Good girl,” he says, and my heart twists in my chest at the simple, rugged phrase. “Let’s do this.”

My stomach tightens with anticipation, and then, his foot’s moving, pressing into Rowdy’s side—and my thigh—to get the horse moving.

I don’t know if it’s because of Rowdy somehow knowing I’m new to all this, or because of Cole’s expert abilities when it comes toriding—and controlling—a horse, but Rowdy goes slowly, gently strolling away from the stables, toward the open gate that leads to the ranch.

The stars sparkle and the trees form a line of spiked, dark shapes against them, making me think of wild untamed spaces and an innately human desire to explore. Maybe it’s being on Rowdy, or with Cole, but I’m suddenly thinking about the wild west, the frontier, the ruggedness of this area and the strength of the people who live here.

“Rowdy looks tough,” he’s saying, “but he’s a good beginner horse. He’s got a decent temperament. Nice and patient.”

I stroke Rowdy’s neck, but the truth is, I’m barely listening to Cole’s words. I’m too conscious of how close he is. Of what it feels like to have my back pressed against his chest, his arms wrapped around me, and the shifting of the saddle beneath me really doesn’t help matters. The slow, sensual rhythm of movement is like the stoking of a flame. My body shifts slightly, side to side, as Rowdy takes us on a path he apparently knows well, away from the stables, toward the forest on the far edge of the ranch. My eyes scan the distant tree line, like Cole taught me to, but the truth is, I’m barely capable of registering anything beyond him, coyote or cougar be damned.

It doesn’t matter though. I’m with Cole, and I doubt there’s another man alive who gives off the kind of big protector vibes that he exudes without even trying.

“When I was a kid, we used to ride out there,” he says, the words murmured against my ear.

My pulse kicks up a notch. “Where?”

“The forest. We just loved losing ourselves in it. We’d go in just over that way,” he points to the trees. I can’t see any gap that would indicate where he means, but apparently, it’s a place he knows well. “And follow a track all the way back around to the creek.”

I move my head a little, turning to look at him. He’s so close, his face is in profile right beside mine. With one movement, I could press my lips to his stubbled jaw.

Oh, God. I’m totally lost to this guy. I clear my throat a little, but my voice still comes out hoarse. “Your parents didn’t mind?”

“It was after mom died,” he says, softly though. Like he’s remembering. His eyes slide to mine, hold my gaze a moment. I feel like time stands still. “Dad was pretty busy with the ranch,” he looks ahead again. “You know, holding it all together. I think he was probably just relieved we were out from under foot.”

My lips quirk at that. I can imagine this family of five kids was pretty demanding to run. Four boys and one girl—the youngest.

“So, you’d take all the kids out?”

“I doubt they’d say it like that.”

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