Page 45 of Quiver

“What?” Kylie pulled Winston to a stop as if she couldn’t process what Fletcher said and sit on a moving horse at the same time.

“We’re snowed in.”

She shook her head. “I’ve barely been here two hours.”

“You haven’t lived in the mountains for twelve years. Two hours is all it takes.”

She couldn’t argue, and it wasn’t like Fletcher would joke about such a thing. Her chiseled face was a mask of stoicism, which could indicate panic or anger or utter utilitarianism. They all looked the same on her until you got close enough to see the lighter flecks of chocolate amid the dark night of her eyes, and Kylie had no intention of stepping into that sphere at the moment.

“You’ll have to stay here tonight.” Fletcher offered no cues as to what emotions the news should inspire.

Kylie responded in kind, and instead of screaming, merely said, “Okay.”

“Why don’t we call this training session good and wrap up?”

She nodded even though she didn’t want to.

“You need a hand?” Fletcher asked.

She shifted in the saddle and slipped one foot from the stirrup, intending to hop down the same way she’d hopped up, but every muscle from her core to her calves screamed in protest.

Shocked, she sat back up quickly, causing Fletcher to chuckle.

“Is that a yes?”

“What just happened?”

“You haven’t ridden hard in years. You’re older. It’s late. It’s cold. You’ll feel worse in the morning.”

“Aren’t you a ray of freaking sunshine?” She flexed her muscles and tried again, straining against the tightness and grimacing as she swung her leg over, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to drop to the ground, which left her standing precariously in one stirrup, her stomach resting across the saddle.

Winston craned his neck to give her a curious look, and she suspected Fletcher wore a similar expression as she said, “There’s one way to get started. What next?”

She sighed, blowing loose strands of hair from her face. “I’m working on it.”

“Sure, sure. Take your time.”

She could extract her foot and aim for an inelegant sort of slide down the side of the horse, or she could try to jump back, which had about equal odds of her landing on her feet or her ass. Either way, even if she did manage to stick the landing, she wasn’t sure her knees wouldn’t go out from under her. There weren’t any great prospects for preserving her dignity, so she chose the one least likely to shatter her bones. “You mentioned offering a hand?”

She couldn’t see Fletcher from this angle but heard a smile in her voice as she said, “I’m happy to help.”

“I’m sure you are.”

“Was that a request?”

She rolled her eyes. “Please.”

Thankfully, she didn’t have to wait long to feel strong hands on her waist. Fletcher steadied her and bore enough weight to soften her landing. Still, Kylie wobbled, perhaps not from the strain on her body as much as the ache to absorb more of Fletcher’s care. It wasn’t a conscious choice. Something instinctive or long ingrained took over, and she turned in the circle of Fletcher’s grasp. Fingers tightening against her hips offered the only evidence she wasn’t the only one acting on intuition. And this time when she looked up to meet dark eyes, she was absolutely close enough to see them swirling with an array of emotions. Lust, shock, fear, need, they were all there as Fletcher’s lips parted.

Kylie pressed into her, unthinking, seeking deeper contact, the crush of hard planes against her own curves, but as the connection between them spread, so did the fire, and Fletcher must’ve felt it too, because she stepped back quickly as if she’d been singed.

She smiled slowly, maybe not at the reaction itself, but at the strength of it. If the mere brush of bodies could produce such a powerful response in this usually stoic woman, what could a little more do?

“So, it looks like we’ve got more time than we initially expected.” She reached out, intending only to regain what they’d lost, but this time Fletcher’s eyes flashed with something akin to panic as she caught Kylie tightly by the wrist, holding her back.

The move startled her and she gasped, but she’d never been one to back down from a hint of assertiveness. “Wow, Fletch. Weren’t you the one who said we needed to lean in?”

Fletcher’s jaw twitched and she shook her head sharply. Then dropping Kylie’s hand, she put another step between them for good measure. “Not that far.”