"I think I'm in love."

I glance up at the same time Juniper snaps her head away from her horse to stare back at Delaney. We're on one of the trails that wind up the backside of Diamond Creek, following Shep as he leads us toward an overlook with a sweeping view of the ranch and its pastures.

My brows furrow as June's eyes flick past Delaney to me—wide with a Did you know about this? look. I shake my head subtly, mirroring her expression with an I'm just as clueless as you are look in return. Even Shep pauses his whistling, tilting his head in what I can only assume is a confused expression—if I could actually see it.

It wouldn't be the first time Delaney has dramatically declared something like this, but still.

"What?" June asks cautiously as I peek back over at Delaney, trying not to make any sudden movements on Honey for fear she'll buck me off, just like Rhett mentioned.

"You're in love?" I echo, my brows pulling together.

"You better not say it's Chase," Juniper warns, pointing a finger at her. "You dated him for less than three weeks and he was so... aggressively mediocre."

"God, no," Delaney dismisses, shaking her head. Then, with a dreamy sigh, she spreads an arm out wide. "With Wyoming."

"Oh," Juniper murmurs, her gaze flicking around the trail before settling forward again.

Delaney has been gushing about Wyoming since we first set foot on the trail. And to be fair, it is beautiful. Diamond Creek Ranch is tucked against the slope of a hill, a patchwork of muted greens, sun-warmed golds, and earthy browns stretching endlessly in every direction. The trail winds lazily through towering cottonwoods and clusters of sagebrush. It's all incredibly beautiful, and on any other given day, I would be appreciating it even more—but my mind is... elsewhere.

Specifically, back to Rhett's hands on me, his fingers biting into my waist as he hoisted me onto the saddle like I weighed nothing. I shift in my seat again, the saddle offering no relief for the ache between my thighs. I'm hot and restless, nervous and anxious all at once. And judging by the way Honey flicks her ears and shifts beneath me, I'm pretty sure she can sense it too.

"It's just so pretty here," Delaney gushes, her gaze sweeping over the landscape as Honey veers slightly off track. I narrowly dodge a low-hanging tree branch, grimacing as I give the reins a subtle tug to the right, trying to guide her back in line.

"I mean, look at the sky, the hills, the pastures," she continues dreamily.

"I know, and I love horseback riding," Juniper adds, leaning forward to hug her horse's neck. "I haven't ridden since I was, like, eleven."

"I'm so happy for you guys," I say dryly, ducking to avoid another branch.

"It's the best, isn't it?" Delaney sighs, breathing in deeply before exhaling, her breath curling into the crisp air. "That's it, you guys. I'm doing it. I'm moving here."

"Delaney, hold your horses," Juniper giggles. "No one is moving anywhere."

"Oh god," I mutter, rolling my eyes.

Delaney snickers up ahead before glancing over her shoulder at me with a smirk. "Hay now. Don't be such a downer."

I shake my head. "I'm not being a downer."

"Horseshit."

Juniper barks out a laugh, and even Shep chuckles up ahead. "Delaney, stop horsing around. She's serious."

Delaney doubles over, laughing uncontrollably. "Oh god, I'm un-stable."

"You guys are so annoying," I say, glancing down at the reins in my hands to hide the smile tucked at the edges of my lips.

Delaney spins around to face me, her head tilting with a frown. "Why the long face? Is it pasture bedtime? Do you need to hit the hay?"

"Delaney!" Juniper erupts into hysterical laughter up ahead. "We are so funny!"

"Okay, alright, let's rein it in," she says with a smirk, turning back around. I can't help but snort out a laugh, then immediately tense because Honey doesn't seem to appreciate it. She tosses her head, ears flicking back in clear disapproval. "Mom looks like she's about to lose her shit."

"Don't call me Mom," I say.

Delaney shrugs. "If the horseshoe fits."

"It doesn't."

"It does a little," Delaney murmurs as we round the curve of the path. "I don't know how people have kids at our age. I can barely take care of my first-grade class."

"You can barely take care of yourself," June quips.

"True," Delaney agrees, a little too easily. "Watch, you'll be the one to get randomly pregnant first."

June chokes on a gasp. "I will not. If anything, it's you."

"Why me? I'm not the one engaged."

Delaney and June continue bickering over who gets to not have kids first in their hypothetical scenarios, while I wrestle with keeping Honey on a straight path.

Della assured me Honey is one of the sweetest horses they have, the kind that just follows along without much direction—hence why I got stuck at the back of the line. But apparently, Honey has her own ideas about following directions. No matter how many times I tug on the reins, she keeps veering off course, almost like she is determined to turn around and go back.

We come to a fork in the trail, one path opening into a wide field, the other winding up through a dense thicket of brush. Shep leads us toward the latter. But the moment we start moving, Honey stops abruptly, her ears flicking forward. Then, without warning, she begins backing up—slowly at first, then more insistently.

"Uh, Shep?" I call out nervously, glancing up as they continue ahead without me, trying not to sound panicked.

I tug the reins, attempting to steer Honey back toward the others, but it only results in her spinning in a full circle and then, suddenly, she is bolting toward the open field to the left.

"Shit!" I screech, yanking at the reins in a frantic attempt to slow Honey down, but my grip on them fumbles, and before I can recover, the reins slip through my fingers.

Panic claws at my chest as I reach down, desperately trying to grab for them, but with every jarring movement of her gallop, they stay just out of reach.

I glance up just as Honey starts veering directly into a herd of cattle. Instinctively, I squeeze my eyes shut, clutching the saddle horn with both hands as my body bounces around like a rag-doll, silently pleading for her to stop.

And then—warmth. A steady, solid heat pressing against my back just under my jacket.

My eyes snap open just as Rhett rides up beside me, his horse keeping perfect pace. Before I can process what's happening, one strong arm wraps around my waist, and with an effortless pull, I'm lifted clean off Honey's saddle and onto his own.

I barely have time to think before I'm clinging to him, arms wrapped tight around his middle, my face pressing into his chest. My heart hammers against his ribs, and I swear I can feel his pulse just as wildly beneath my cheek.

Even as Rhett's horse slows to a complete stop beneath us, I can't bring myself to let go. My arms stay locked around him, my eyes squeezed shut as if keeping them closed will somehow settle the adrenaline still roaring through my veins.

A shaky breath rattles out of me, and I try to remember my breathing exercises.

In, one, two, three. Hold, one, two, three. Out, one, two—

"You alright?" His voice is a low rumble, vibrating against my cheek.

I nod against him as his hands, still fisting the reins, settle lightly on my thighs. The warmth of his flannel seeps into my palms as I mumble, "I think I spooked the horse."

I can practically hear the smile in his voice when he replies, "You think?"

We sit like this for a moment, his steady heartbeat beneath my ear, the scent of him—cotton and something undeniably him—curling around me as my pulse finally begins to settle.

Until he clears his throat, breaking the silence.

And suddenly, it dawns on me. He's waiting for me to move. To get off of him. And here I am, my hands clutching the sides of his flannel, straddling him, with my thighs pressed against his and his hips against mine.

A heat spreads through me all the way into my cheeks, whether it's from the embarrassment catching up to me or the ache between my legs returning from earlier, I'm not entirely sure. But everything feels hot.

I pull away from him quickly, prying my fingers from the soft, worn fabric of his flannel under his jacket. My hands drop to my sides, curling into fists, as I force my gaze toward the brown cows in the distance—because it feels safer than looking at him.

Safer than acknowledging the fact that I am sitting on top of him.

Safer than thinking about how I have most definitely had sex with him in this exact position.

"Um." I clear my throat, wetting my bottom lip with my tongue. It's a lot to handle, quite frankly—being straddled over his lap, pressing against him, pretending I'm not thinking about how easy it would be to just... shift. I clear my throat again. "Thanks for that."

I feel his eyes studying my face, his knuckles grazing my hip where his fingers flex tightly around the reins.

"No problem," he says in a gruff voice, swallowing visibly as the muscles along his jaw tense.

I gather my courage and lift my gaze to meet his completely, locking onto his steel-blue eyes. My lips part to say more, but I can't seem to get anything else out because there's so much of him, so close to me. It would be so easy to lean in and press my lips to the scar on his jaw. I already know what he would taste like, how he'd sound when I darted my tongue out to trace it, the way his hands would grip my ass, pulling me closer.

"Would you—" I close my eyes against the temptation before looking at him again. "Um, would you mind helping me down?"

He blinks, shaking his head, almost as if he's forgotten that we're still seated on a horse in the middle of a pasture, now surrounded by the entire herd of cows.

"Right, yeah," he grumbles.

Rhett's hands, the ones that were just resting against my thighs, slide to my waist as he carefully helps me down from his horse. I take two large, staggering steps backward as soon as my boots hit the grass and curl my arms around myself.

I squint up at him as the sun hovers just behind his head. "Thanks for, um..."

"Saving you?"

"Uh, yes," I say, briefly glancing down at Rhett's golden retriever as he nuzzles its head against my leg before meeting Rhett's gaze again. "For saving me."

Rhett nods, looking past me, his fingers fidgeting with the reins of his horse. "You want me to take you back to the stables?"

"Oh, um, no, that's okay," I say quickly—because I'm not sure I can handle being that close to him again. I gesture vaguely behind me, in what, I think, is the direction of the stables. "I can walk."

Against the brightness of the sun, his figure is little more than a silhouette, but I catch the way he glances at me from the corner of his eye—the subtle twitch at the edges of his mouth before he looks down at his hands resting on the horn of the saddle, wrists crossed.

"Stables are that way, sugar," he drawls, pointing in the complete opposite direction of where I was just about to start heading to.

It's the second time he's called me sugar since I've been here, and it makes me feel like I'm unraveling a little more each time. The first time, I ignored the way it sent a ripple of goosebumps across my skin. This time, I'm blaming it on the cold air.

"Oh," I murmur, feeling the tips of my ears grow warm. I turn to look in the direction he's pointing as a gust of cold air sweeps by and I hold myself tighter. "Right. I knew that."

Rhett glances up behind me just as I hear the soft thumps of hooves hitting the grass and dirt. I shift my attention from Rhett to see Shepherd coming to a halt on his horse a few feet away from me.

"Damn, Honey really doesn't like you, does she?" he says, chuckling as he looks awkwardly between me and Rhett. "Didn't realize she went galloping off with you like that until you were halfway through the field. You okay?"

"Yeah, um," I glance behind me slightly to see Rhett shifting in his seat. He looks annoyed, bored now as he sucks in a slow breath.

"Well, let's get you back to the stables then," Shep says.

I nod. "Okay."

"Rhett, you mind grabbing Honey?"

"Yup," Rhett grumbles, and then with a low whistle, he calls, "Come on, Boone."

I assume he's talking to his dog—the one still standing at my side. But Boone doesn't budge. Instead, he walks with me all the way to Shep's horse, tail wagging lazily.

Shep extends his hand, and I take it, letting him haul me up behind him. As I settle into the saddle, Rhett calls out once more.

"Boone!"

But the dog just trots after us, happily ignoring him.