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Best Dicking of My Life: I take our future together very seriously.

Me: Awww.

Best Dicking of My Life: See? You like my unconventional clingy methods.

Me: I’ll admit that you’ve worn me down.

Best Dicking of My Life: Don’t forget about Friday night.

Me: Got it. I’ll be home soon. Maybe we can meet—

“Girl,” Shiloh scolds. “You’re gonna hit a tree.”

I glance up from my screen, squinting between Moe’s ears. There’s nothing but a flat grassy path in front of us. “Very funny.”

“You’re not even holding onto the reins.”

“Moe is the most trustworthy steed. We’ve been to this park a hundred times. He knows the trails by heart.”

My friend huffs. “Yeah, well, it’s not fun for me to sit in silence while you’re constantly sexting. Had I known you’d be attached to your phone, I would’ve gone riding alone.”

Guilt slaps me. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” Hasty fingers tuck the distracting device into the crossbody pouch strapped across my chest. “There. I’m all yours.”

But Shiloh rolls her eyes as notification alerts ping loudly from within my purse. “Uh-huh.”

“I’m going to pretend it’s quiet. Chance will get the hint eventually.”

“Or show up unannounced.”

“That’s one of his many signature moves.” A giddy smile tickles my lips and I have the sudden urge to kick my feet.

“You’re so smitten,” my friend sighs.

The sparkle in my uplifted energy dims slightly. “I’m trying not to be.”

“Why?”

My shrug is lopsided. “Chance is unpredictable. His wild card attitude likes to follow whatever whim he catches that day. He’s made some awful decisions without thinking them through.”

“That grovel game of his is a tad shaky.” She tips a hand back and forth. “It seems like his intentions always consider what’s best for you, even when he broke your heart in the process.”

“Right,” I mutter.

“That man loves you something fierce.” Shiloh fans her face. “If only we could all be so lucky.”

“His dedication is very intense.” A hot shiver traces the length of my spine as I picture the tattoo above his dick. “He’s devoted beyond normal limits.”

Which is why my phone continues to chime. I squirm in the saddle while wondering what type of messages he’s sending. An empty ache radiates from my core and he’s the only one who can fill it. Rather than surrender to my baser impulses, I blindly push the button to silence notifications.

Shiloh glances at my suddenly flushed cheeks. “Should we take the horses for a swim?”

“That’s a great idea,” I breathe.

Not only does this county park have the best riding trails, it also has several easily accessible entry points for the river. That allows us to take the horses in the water for a cool reprieve. The temperature this morning is in the mid-seventies, but the July heat and humidity will be unbearable soon.

We veer off to the left at the next fork in the road. A breeze caresses my sweaty skin and dances through the prairie grass on both sides of us. Crow Hassan is a nature preserve that stretches across over twenty-five hundred acres. It’s a slice of rustic paradise that I try to visit at least once a week. The horses love the break from the arena.

Which Shiloh’s mare demonstrates by pulling at her bit, in a hurry to reach the river. “Someone is excited.”