Emma leveled with him, catching his eyes. "You have enough time, Finn."
"Lily doesn't have enough time."
Shaking her head, his sister-in-law turned to the horse that had been patiently waiting for her, and flipped her rein up over his neck. "She does. I know she's not putting this pressure on you. Take a breath, go backwards if you have to. It's not worth getting hurt."
But maybe it was.
—TWENTY-SIX—
"'Morning."
Lily bit her lip to try to stop the eager smile that blossomed when she saw Finn at the bottom of the stairs of his cabin. She'd been a little grateful when she'd woken after he left the house this morning. It gave her a few extra minutes to process their date the night before. He'd left her at the door of her bedroom with a kiss that was so chaste she ached when she climbed into bed. And now, here he was, like he'd been watching for her to come out of the house to start her morning of shooting, looking like the cover of some working cowboy magazine, so ruggedly handsome it made her knees weak. And worse, now that she knew what he tasted like, and his gentle, easy touch, she wanted it more.
"Good morning. What's this?" she asked, gesturing to the pair of tacked up horses behind him. Buckshot and a big, rangy chestnut were practically dozing behind him.
"I just thought I'd join you for today's ride."
She narrowed her eyes at him for a moment, then took a tentative step off the porch toward him. "You know, for someone who insisted they didn't give riding lessons…"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm not going to live that down, am I?"
"Probably not."
"S'alright, I'll take my lumps. Leave the camera."
It felt counter-intuitive to leave her camera bag on the big rustic-wood chair on his porch, but she did it, and laughing, she stepped forward and greeted first Buckshot, then the other horse.
"Who's this?" Despite the time she'd spent at the ranch, there were too many horses in and out for her to have kept track of everyone. She thought that, apart from Encore, she'd never seen Finn work with the same horse twice, but knew that couldn't be true.
"My ole reliable, Jet. Client horse fail." Finn glanced at the horse and she saw a softness in his eyes that said there was more to the story than he was volunteering. There was always more to the story when Finn Baylor was involved, but the last few days had proven it wasn't always bad.
"Hello, Jet," she said, stroking the gelding's nose, before turning her attention back to Finn. They were tucked in together in the little space between the horses and he hadn't stepped back. Being this close to him, knowing him differently since their date last night, and hoping beyond all hope that two horses meant what she thought it did sparked a flight of butterflies low in her belly. "So…we're going to practice steering around other horses in the ring?"
"Not quite."
Now it was him trying to hide a smile, and she knew what he was offering her. A ride on the trails, through the woods; a tiny taste of what had once been such an enormous, all-consuming part of her life.
"Let me get my helmet."
Jogging toward the barn, her mind went back over the handful of 'lessons' he'd given her on Buckshot. While she hadn't gained any strength in her left leg, she was definitely feeling more at ease than she had been, well rested thanks to the double bed, and her core muscles were starting to hold her better. She grabbed her helmet off the peg in the now-neatly-organized-and-dust-free tack room and scooted back to Finn, who had made it halfway across the yard with the horses.
She stuck the helmet on her head without buckling it and took Buckshot's reins from him, her heart practically skipping at the idea that he was going to make this possible for her. He must have sensed her pent-up excitement, because he chuckled and shook his head, moving to buckle her helmet under her chin, like he had the first time he'd helped her ride. This time, he sealed it with a gentle kiss, the only thing that could have possibly distracted her from her enthusiasm to head out onto the trails.
All too quickly, it was over, and she briefly considered vetoing the ride in favor of more kissing, but Finn was already herding her toward Buckshot, and, without warning, like always, hoisting her onto the horse's back. From astride, she looked down at the top of his head as he looped the loose rein over Buckshot's neck and helped her push her left toe into the stirrup. His hand closed around her ankle and he glanced up at her with a crooked smile.
"Later," he promised, crossing in front of Jet in a few long strides. He legged up onto the gelding so effortlessly it made Lily just a smidge jealous, though she couldn't say his help getting her into the saddle was nearly as humiliating now that their relationship had taken a turn a little more intimate.
He reined his horse left of the cattle barn, the opposite direction she normally headed with her camera, and she fell into stride beside him as they cut across a tractor path between a couple of hay fields on the far side of the property, heading away from Emma's folks' side of the ranch. She glanced over at Finn, sitting loose and comfortable in the saddle, his rein hand resting over his saddle horn, the other on his long jean-clad thigh. He felt her eyes and glanced over at her, back at the treeline they were approaching, then back at her.
"What?"
"Nothing," she said, chuckling a little as she shook her head. "Where are we going?"
"You'll see."
They crossed a few fields with sparse treelines before Lily found herself in a field with a dense forest of evergreens beyond it.
"How you feeling?"
If she could put into words how it felt to be free of the rails of the round pen, she would have almost waxed poetic. But instead, she smiled, a smile she felt all the way to her toes, and shook her head, and said "Great."
"Good, we're just getting started." Finn laughed, and tipped forward, putting heels to side and urging Jet into an easy lope. The excited butterflies that had been keeping a low simmer at the base of her stomach moved up to lodge in her throat, a mixture of excitement and fear and adrenaline washing through her. His intention was clear, and she watched the chestnut's hindquarters grow smaller as they moved away from her.
"Oh, what the hell," she muttered under her breath, and wrapped her free hand around the saddle horn for a bit of extra security as she made a kissing noise to Buckshot, signaling the lope. The horse moved into a big, easy, rocking horse canter she hadn't yet felt. They'd barely trotted in the ring.
Those butterflies burst into a flutter as she felt her body relax into the horse's stride, her smile so wide her cheeks hurt. Her heart soared as trees and stubbled field flew past her. And then laughter bubbled out of her as she Buckshot's long strides brought them back neck and neck with Jet and Finn. When he looked over to check on her, everything about the moment felt perfect. From the good horse, to the woods around her, to the handsome cowboy at her side.
For the first time in a long time, she didn't feel like a victim of an accident anymore. And she felt victorious to be riding Buckshot, not disappointed it wasn't Encore. For a brief moment, everything felt like it was as it should be, not some broken, wrong variation of what her reality was supposed to be.
When they reached the end of the field, Finn reined Jet back down to a walk, and without much prompting, Buckshot did the same.
"How was that?" Finn's casual tone betrayed the huge smile he wore. Clearly, the way she was feeling was infectious.
"Seriously?"
He nodded.
She was way more accustomed to expressing her emotions with images than words, but she tried to assemble something that at least vaguely honored the freedom of an easy lope on the trail, and found herself with another lump lodged firmly in her throat and tears pricking at her eyelids. Silly.
Finn reached across the space between them and squeezed her knee lightly. Like he knew. She couldn't have asked for more.
*
"All set to head back?" Finn glanced at Lily. They'd taken a break at the midway point, and she had squatted beside the creek Buckshot stood in, drinking,
to bring some water to her own lips in her cupped hands. She'd removed her helmet and her hair was flat and sticking out all over the place, but he couldn't have found her sexier than in that moment. Truth was, the sooner he got her back to the ranch, the sooner they could pick up that kiss where it had left off. And, judging by the high flush of pleasure he'd seen on her cheeks, she just might let him.
"No. I could stay out here all day." She straightened, cast a smile his way that made his heart lighter just for witnessing it, and clucked to Buckshot, tugging on his rein to bring him up out of the creek. He scrambled up the bank and she checked her rigging—he'd noticed her loosen it when they'd stopped and dismounted. "But then I wouldn't be able to walk tomorrow. And probably neither would this guy."
He watched as she moved around Buckshot, sliding her hands down each leg, presumably to check for swelling or warmth. When she moved back to his head, she checked that his bridle and bit were still comfortable, and then felt his chest to see how warm he was. He hadn't given her much credit as a good horseman at the beginning, and the helmet and neon tack he'd seen her move into the tack room hadn't helped much, but he warmed as he watched her tend to the ranch's oldest equine's well-being like he was her own. There was an instinct and intuition in her that he hadn't credited her with originally.
Although he hadn't said anything, she straightened and glanced at him, moving into position at the horse's side with a long suffering sigh. She lifted her hands onto the horn and cantle of the saddle. "Alright, I'm ready."
Jet remained rooted in the short grass at the edge of the creek when Finn stepped away to help Lily into the saddle. It was becoming old hat, the way he wrapped his fingers around her calf and rooted his shoulder under the curve of her ass and hoisted her into the saddle, but he was beginning to appreciate it more as an opportunity to sneak an extra touch instead of just a functional action to help her onto the horse. This time, while she settled in, he slid his hand over her thigh and paused at her jeans-clad knee again. It was hardly a touch, but now that he'd done it a few times, he found himself strategically arranging to do it again.
"You're doing a great job."
"I love this, Finn." She paused and he felt her fingers cover his, squeezing lightly.
"I do, too." And just like that, her touch was gone. He glanced up at her and smiled, then moved around Jet to climb into the saddle. "Honestly, we'd come out these trails a bit when we were kids on ponies but these days, I'm so full up on client horses and ranch work I don't take the time. I really should, though."
He glanced out over the water, where the trail picked up on the other bank and continued through the woods. Far enough and you came to the Anderson spread. He and his brothers and Nate and Banks had practically been a gang of hoodlums, roaming through the woods on their horses. They'd pick up Cutter and tether their mounts and splash around in the creek. And then they'd become teenagers, and girls and pickup trucks and rodeo were more important.
Finally, his gaze landed back on Lily. She wore the same thoughtful expression he was sure he did and it was clear she was reminiscing herself.
"Sometimes I just like to get inside my head. And being in the woods on a horse does a good job of that," she said, turning to look at him. She reached down and stroked a hand along Buckshot's neck. He wished he had been able to make this happen for her with Encore, and he had his doubts he could at all, but this was a good start for a girl who hadn't even ridden for a year.
He smiled, reining Jet toward home. "Sometimes, inside my head is the most dangerous place to be."
Lily pressed her lips together, her dark eyes fixed on his for a second longer than would have been a cursory glance. He broke the contact first. In a perfect world, he'd tell her what was eating at the edge of his mind, the corner of his heart. In a perfect world, he'd be able to articulate why he couldn't offer her anything more than the sweet kisses he stole from her, a ride into the woods now and then, and the work on her horse. This wasn't a perfect world. It was a world in which he'd lost his footing five years ago and hadn't been able to find a real toehold since.
Lily didn't press him and that made him wish even more than he could spill his guts to her.
He swallowed and put his heels to Jet's sides. The horse knew they were headed home and his pace was quick. Finn settled deeper into the saddle and tipped his legs forward a fraction of an inch and the gelding's legs slowed, maintaining the walk, but at a much more leisurely pace. Buckshot and Lily soon matched pace.
—TWENTY-SEVEN—
A few hours later found Lily on the love seat in Finn's living room, her legs crossed and her laptop balanced precariously on the diamond made between her knees. She'd headed back to the cabin to go through some of the shooting she'd done for the Andersons but she was still so high from her little trail ride she couldn't settle in to work and had, instead, been flipping through the photos and discarding the ones that were obviously not useful for sale photos.
The morning's ride barely compared to the distances she'd once done, but Finn had done her a tremendous service taking her out. Even if she still hadn't gained any strength in her left leg. Even if she was sore already and had spent ten minutes stretching it out of her system before a long, hot shower. The ride he'd taken her on had reminded her of why she'd started long distance in the first place. Nothing beat the way you communed with your horse and with the beautiful nature around you when you rode into the woods. Normally, she preferred to be alone, but she had appreciated Finn's quiet, steady presence at her side, pushing her when she didn't have faith in her body's abilities, and backing off when she needed it.
She heard him before she saw him, climbing the steps into the house, and then the door pushed open and there he was. Warmth rushed her chest when he smiled at her and shouldered out of his coat.
"How you feeling?"
She shook her head, pulling her laptop partially closed. "Amazing."
"I meant physically," he said, tipping his head down with a smile. He slid in beside her on the love seat and his weight on the cushions tipped her toward him. She squawked, grabbing hold of her tipping laptop. Taking advantage of their new, close position, Finn took the laptop from her and set it safely on the end table beside him, then slipped his arm over her shoulder and drew her closer to his side, his lips falling on her forehead in a kiss so sweet and chaste that her heart must have swelled at least two sizes.
"Fine," she said, smiling up at him. "Now quit worrying. I left Denver to get away from my worry-wart of a mother."
He laughed, tipping her head a little farther with his fingers under her chin and brushed his mouth over hers. "I'm not worried, I just want to make sure you're feeling good enough for this."
Lily sagged against his chest, giving herself up to the kiss. His fingers gathered the hair at the nape of her neck and tipped her face back to change the angle, and it went from sweet and sultry to electric in half a heartbeat. She curled her fingers in the lapels of his shirt, drawing him down, closer, and he responded, pushing her back against the arm of the couch and shifted his body over hers, the fingers of one hand teasing the bare skin her t-shirt rode up to expose.
With a sharp exhale, Lily arched up against the weight of Finn's body on hers, the sweet ache of longing spreading through her bloodstream. He was so close, but still so far away.
Today, every innocent touch, every brush of lips or prolonged glance felt like there was an extra layer of need—for her, anyway. Finn, on the other hand, seemed to exercise that modicum of self-control she hadn't quite mastered. Or he particularly enjoyed making her wait. When he pulled back, a sneaky grin tipping up one corner of his lips, she suspected it was the latter.
"You know my parents just rolled in."
"It's Saturday, isn't it?"
"Mhm," he hummed, dropping his lips against the curve of her neck and tickling her with his stubbly jaw. She squirmed, arching her body into his almost involuntarily before she pushed at his shoulders.
"Get up, we have to
go be social." Truth was, she could have lived in this happy little bubble for another fifty years or so without blinking.
"Mhm."
"Finn." She felt his smile. "Come on."
He let an exaggerated groan out and shifted back on his knees, looking at her in such a way that she wasn't sure if he was going to flay open the buttons of her shirt or get up. But then he got up, and offered her his hand, and she was almost as relieved as she was disappointed.
Together, they left his cabin and headed for the big house, walking into the typical Saturday routine in full swing. Ren and Ella hovered over the stove, working on something that smelled delicious, as always. Caine sat at the table with Gracie on his knee, and Noah and Kerri sat side by side, watching barrel runs on her cell phone.
They hadn't exactly walked in holding hands but so much had changed since the last Saturday gathering, she wondered if his family could tell. If they could see it on her face that just minutes ago, she would have easily forgone their gathering—one of her favorite parts of her week, second only to Tessa's riding lesson—for something a little spicier.
The flurry of greetings they received betrayed no suspicion, so she shrugged out of her coat and headed for the counter to see what she could do to help.
*
Ella Baylor knew. Finn was sure of it. Lily might not have noticed it, but his mother's eyes had narrowed almost imperceptibly—like she could see the monumental shift between the pair of them, even though he'd worked hard to hide it once they'd climbed the steps to the big house. He just needed a little more time to process what all of this meant. In the meantime, he was enjoying becoming reacquainted with the feminine form.
And what a form it was. Despite himself, he glanced at Lily taking her place at the counter to help out with the meal. A few short weeks ago, that sight had incited an entirely different emotion in him, but today, all he could think was this was where she belonged.
"So," Emma began casually, from her position at the counter where she was peeling potatoes. "I noticed Jet and Buckshot missing this morning."
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