Lila’s gaze dips to my mouth as I say it and she swallows. “Good to know.”
“Need a lift?”
She nods. “I think so.”
As she puts her boot in the stirrup I put my hands on her waist and lift. She’s warm through the knit of her sweater, her curves plush beneath my hands. I have her in the saddle in one motion and my hands back at my sides before I do something stupid with them, like trail my fingers along her hip.
I mount my own horse, resolutely not looking at her. “This way.”
As we ride the property, I find myself telling her about Wild Rose. Normally, talking to people feels like pulling teeth for me, but it’s easy with Lila. She asks questions and keeps the ball rolling and the conversation feels effortless. I tell her about our cattle operation and the regenerative agriculture Rafe has started us on, and all the other things that make Wild Rose run.
When we get to my favorite overlook, I pull up to a stop. “We can let the horses graze for a minute.”
I dismount first, and then go to her to help. As I help her down, she slides against me on the way, her sweater soft under my hands, her hair in my face for just a second. The flowers and marshmallow smell floods my sense and I resist the urge to breathe in deep.
While she goes to the edge of the rocky overlook, I pull out leather-wrapped flask from my saddlebag and bring it over to her.
“Drink?” I venture.
Our fingers brush as she takes it from me. “Whiskey?”
I nod. “Bourbon.”
She takes a sip. Her eyes widen. “This is good stuff.”
“What, you think cowboys only drink rotgut?” I tease.
She gives me a coy smile that makes my heart rate pick up. “Not your type of cowboy. You’ve got expensive tastes.”
“Oh?” I raise an eyebrow.
“Come on. An Ellis & Macklan custom home? That truck?You might have dirt on the floors and sleep on a mattress but you’ve got a taste for the finer things in life, Mr. Rhodes.”
My eyes sweep down her. The cashmere sweater and tight jeans clinging to her curves. The gold and jewels winking at her wrists and earlobes and neck. She’s sexy and elegant all at once and her whole vibe really does it for me.
“Yeah,” I say, a little roughly. “I guess I do like the finer things.”
The pink in her cheeks deepens as she hands the flask back to me. I take a long pull off the flask and let myself have the thought that her lips were just here, that the flask is still warm from her touch, and then I put it in my pocket and look at the mountains.
“So what’s troubling you?” I ask.
“Slade, you’re my client. You don’t want to hear about my private drama, trust me.”
“Wouldn’t ask if I didn’t.”
She looks out over the valley. From up here you can see the whole of Wild Rose. The pastures we just rode through, the cottonwoods by the river turning autumn gold. The creek winds in a silvery ribbon through the land and the mountains are already dusted with snow on the highest peaks. The wind is fiercer at this elevation, and it blows her pink hair around her in a way that makes her impossible to look away from.
Stunning as this landscape is, and it’s the most beautiful piece of land I know, she’s the most breathtaking thing in it.
“I have a complicated family,” she says at last. “And just when I manage to forget about them for five minutes, they call to remind me why I left.”
“What do you mean?”
She sighs, a pink strand of hair fluttering over her nose. Her shoulders drop. “I’ve been on my own since I was eighteen. Low contact with them, mostly no contact. Which has suitedeveryone fine. But now there’s money involved, and a deadline, and they’re paying attention to me for the first time in years and it’s not for any good reason.”
“What kind of deadline?”
She waves a hand. “It’s nothing. It’s stupid.”
