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“You see that you don’t ’cause tomorrow morning, you’re as much as forty-five seconds late, I’m in the truck and gone. Got it?”
“I got it.” Liv walked to where Mary Beth stood holding Micah. “She doesn’t mean it.”
“It’s better if I believe she does.” Liv shook her head. “She reminds me of somebody.”
“Who’s that, honey?”
“Colonel Stanford Fairchild—my father.”
Liv was up next. The ground was a little softer tonight, it had rained earlier, not enough to make a big difference, but so far every rider had knocked over a barrel, resulting in a five-second penalty. Two riders remained after Liv, so if she left all three barrels standing, she had a very good chance to stay in the money.
She got the signal and Micah flew. He went left, circled around, headed right, and hugged the circle in the opposite direction. There was only one barrel left in the clover pattern. He was flying fast but hugging the barrels tight. They headed for home and finished with a time of sixteen point three. She beat last night’s time by five-tenths of a second.
Liv rubbed Micah’s neck. He loved to roll in the dirt, and tonight she’d let him.
She led him to the barn, and saw a man standing with his shoulder up against the door. His cowboy hat sat low over his eyes, and his jeans hung low on his hips, the way they always did. His shirt hitched up enough that her eye caught his skin. The man was hot, no other way to describe him.
“Damn you’re pretty,” he said as she got closer. “You got any plans tonight, darlin’, ’cause I sure want to be the man keepin’ company with you.”
She shook her head and smiled. “Sorry, cowboy, but my dance card is already full this evenin’. Maybe another time.”
“Then, sugar, I’m gonna make sure you never make it to the dance.” Ben took Micah’s reins from her hand and pulled her in close. His thigh inched between hers and spread them apart, and he bent his head to kiss her without knocking her hat off. Liv reached up and threw it off anyway. She wanted to kiss him so hard she took his breath away. Never before had she wished somebody else could take care of Micah.
“Wait,” she said. “Where are we going?”
“Back to the hotel.”
“But what about Renie, and Paige and Mark?”
“Sorry, sugar, but it’s just you and me tonight.”
He watched the heat rise to her cheeks.
“Liv, I need this. I need you to tell me this means something to you.” He watched as her breath caught.
“It does, Ben.”
“Tell me you belon
g to me, your body and your soul.”
Her eyes widened, and her breathing became uneven.
“Tell me,” he said again, as his fingers encircled her wrist.
“I belong to you, Ben,” she breathed.
When they pulled up to the hotel, Ben came around and opened her door.
“When we get in the room, I want you to take off your clothes and wait for me on the bed.”
She bit her lip, hesitating only for a moment.
Ben stood and watched her do what he asked, he didn’t move. His mouth watered, longing for a taste of her. His arms ached, wanting to pull her into him and let her comfort his insecurities.
Liv stood next to the bed, her clothes at her feet. Her body trembled as she pulled the comforter back, then the sheets. When she laid down on the bed, and reached for the sheet, he was on her, his hand on her wrist, stopping her.
“Watch me,” he said as he pulled his shirt over his head. Her eyes moved over his body, the same way they had earlier that morning.
