Page 32

“Oh?” Harper’s voice is still smooth, but there’s a note of challenge hidden beneath the surface. “Didn’t realize someone called dibs.”

Logan takes a slow step forward. “I’m her husband. I’ll teach her.”

“Logan.” The heat crawling up my neck flares into annoyance.

“That right?” Harper raises a brow but doesn’t look away from me. “Well, that’s up to the lady, isn't it?”

Oh, goddamn.

Logan tenses beside me as if the words alone put him on edge. My gaze darts between them—Harper, cocky and grinning like the devil in denim. And Logan, in a wrinkled polo with a shoelace untied. One gives me a choice, while the other demands my attention. I don’t know what angers me more—how good it felt to be flirted with or how Logan stepped in like he had any right to.

Clearing my throat, I snatch the hair tie from my wrist and pull my hair up into a bun. “I'll do one lap.”

Harper flashes a panty-melting smile but before he can move, Logan jumps forward and takes the reins from his hands.

“I’ll help her.”

This time, he doesn’t even so much as glance at Harper. No, that intense, golden stare is reserved for me and me alone.

And despite every reason I should tell him to back off, I find myself nodding. “Fine,” I mutter. “Whatever.”

Harper tips his hat and backs away, easy as pie. “Your loss, darlin’. I’ll be around if you want a better teacher.”

Logan scowls at the cowboy sauntering away from us. “What a prick.”

I can only stare at him in disbelief. “Really?”

“What?”

“You don’t even like horses.”

“I like you not getting hurt,” he replies, softly stroking the animal’s neck. “And Harper’s not the kind of guy who sticks around to catch you fall.”

“How the fuck would you know?”

He exhales a heavy sigh before surprising the hell out of me by hooking his foot into the stirrup and swinging his other leg over the saddle. “That asshole only wanted you to ride one thing, and it wasn’t a horse.”

“No shit,” I nearly snarl. “Did you ever stop to think that maybe I wanted that?”

Logan freezes, the tips of his ears turning red. When he glances down at me, his face tightens, eyes darkening beneath the lights. “Just get over here, Salem.”

I don’t move. Not at first. Logan telling me what to do still sparks my temper, and part of me wants to see how far I can push before he snaps. But then he looks down at me again, and there’s nothing smug or commanding in his expression. Just… strained control. He’s barely holding back the desperate desire etched onto his features.

My body moves before my pride can even argue.

I step up to the horse's side, and Logan shifts immediately, offering his arm for balance.

“Put your left foot in the stirrup,” he says with a certain roughness to his voice that I try to ignore. “I’ll lift you the rest of the way.”

“I can get on a horse by myself.”

And I do. Gripping the front thingy of the saddle, I haul myself up awkwardly, very aware of the way my ass lands right between his thighs.

“What the hell?” he starts.

“You said get on. I'm on. What now?”

There’s a beat of silence as his hands settle on my hips. He leans in, warm breath brushing the back of my neck. “This wasn’t what I meant. You're supposed to be behind me.”