Page 75 of Ride Me Cowboy

“Mackenzie, listen, please,” she says.

Mackenzie just stands there, looking from Beth to me.

“This isn’t what you think,” Beth says, and I almost laugh at that, because I’m pretty sure it’s exactly what Mackenzie thinks.

“I think you two were about to hump like bunnies,” she says, but a smile flickers on her lips.

Beth closes her eyes, and I know I need to save this, save her.

“What happens between Beth and me is between Beth and me. We’d appreciate you respecting our privacy.”

Mack looks genuinely hurt. “You think I’m going to go blab to everyone?”

“It’s just—we get that everyone would be invested in the outcome,” Beth says unevenly, her voice barely a hoarse whisper. “And Cole and I both know this is just…a fling,” she says, dropping her gaze to the ground. I hate that I know she’s thinking of Christopher now, feeling like the more people who know about us, the more of a betrayal it is of him. Fuck that guy.

“A fling?”

“I’m leaving when Reagan comes back. We’re just having…fun,” she says, sounding like she’s never even heard of the concept.

“Right,” Mack nods. “Fun.”

“You don’t need to approve,” I say, my voice sharp again. “But I’ll need your word that this won’t go further than this room.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she says, lifting her hands, frowning though, sweeping her eyes over us. “You have my word. I won’t tell a soul.” She moves back to the kitchen door. “But y’all might wanna think about choosing where you stage your make out sessions, else I’m not gonna be the only one to walk in on you.”

Fair point.

She leaves and I turn to Beth, to say something, I guess to lighten the mood, but she shakes her head once, offers a weak, forced smile. “I don’t want to talk about it,” she says, eyes blinking quickly, and then I’m watching her walk away, feeling like I’ve just made pretty much every mistake I could have in the space of twenty short minutes.

Well, fuck me, if this isn’t a curveball I didn’t see coming, and have no idea how to catch.

Beth

I know I’m running away again, but I can’t help it. The last person I can deal with right now is Cole. Cole, being all concerned, worried about me, needing to know I’m okay when I don’t think I am.

Because Mackenzie knowing about us—what even is ‘us’?—makes everything monumentally complicated. I believe she won’t tell anyone else, but that’s not the point. My husband died almost four months ago, and screwing around with someone else iswrong.At least, it would be perceived that way to anyone who doesn’t know the facts—who doesn’t understand I stopped loving him a long, long time ago.

“Like this?” Beau asks, grinning as he does an exaggerated tilt of his cap, and flashes a winning smile toward my phone. I look atthe image, focusing back on what we’re doing, and try to relax. I’ve come out here with him to get away from all that, so I force myself to push it from my mind.

“Almost,” I say, tilting my head a little, regarding the angle of the sun. “Okay, go again, one more time.”

“Canyon here’s gonna be waterlogged if you keep making me do this,” he throws over his shoulder, but with a wink, and a good-natured grin.

“Canyon’ll survive,” I say, thinking that the big, black and brown horse is probably loving all the creek crossings given the heat of the day. Beau made me grab a hat before setting out in his truck, so I’m wearing the light brown one Cole gave me. It’s wide brimmed and felt, and when I catch a glimpse of my shadow in the golden dust, a cowgirl looks back at me.

“Okay, you ready?” Beau, on the other side, asks.

I crouch down this time, to catch the sun at just the right angle to create a solar flare effect, then nod. Beau gives Canyon a nudge with his foot and the horse sets off, across the stones on the other side of the creek, then into the water with a huge splash. Beau leans down close, like I asked him to, and the water droplets fly up almost as high as his hips. He’s wearing chaps, boots, with a coiled rope at his waist, and a knife on the other side, a check shirt and a black cowboy hat. He looks damn good. Funny that he’s never once made my heart race the way Cole can just by walking in a room.

The creek is wide here, but shallow, so the horse’s legs only get partially submerged. When he comes out the other side, Beau rides the horse beyond me, like I asked him to. I don’t lookat Beau. Instead, I load up the video and rewatch it, my pulse speeding up, because I know this is the shot we’ve been wanting.

“Well?” he asks.

“It’s perfect.”

“Damn straight. Twelfth time’s a charm.” He leans low on his horse and holds a hand down to me, to help me up from my crouch. I take it, standing, then show him the footage I got.

“Looks good,” he says with a shrug. “No different to the other ones, in my opinion, but I trust you.”

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