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“He was. But we had fun too. Played hard, worked hard.” Charlie laughs, sending a rumble vibrating through me. “There’s nothing like small towns. Running from the cops. Back roads boozing. Fishing in the middle of the night.” He presses his body closer to mine. “Kissing pretty girls in stables.”
I shift in the saddle, the spot between my legs pulsing at the hungry tone in his voice. I rest my head back against his broad chest, liking the protective way he keeps me anchored close to his body. All my senses are full of him. I want to kiss him, grip his hair, and run my tongue over his chest. But if I do that, our ride’s over and I very much want it to continue.
Glancing down, I run a finger across a large scar on his tan forearm. It’s gnarly, but I love it. “What’s this from? Barbed wire? Bar fight?”
“No. Wyatt.” He steers Arrow down a sloped ravine. Off in the distance, the sound of water. “We were roughhousing in the barn when we were kids and he shoved me off a rafter and into a pile of hay. Nicked myself on a pitchfork that was buried in the hay.” He chuckles. “It was a damn close call. He begged me not to tell our dad. Did my chores for a week.”
“Are you closest to Wyatt?”
“We’re all close, but yeah, I am. With six of us, they always split us into pairs. Emmy Lou and Grady were the babies. The twins always had each other, and the good graces of our parents.” A grin tips his lips, brotherly affection staining his voice. “Wyatt and I were the lone wolves who got into mischief and wreaked havoc on the farm when we could.” Charlie’s big hand drops to my thigh. He gives it a squeeze. “He’s my best friend. The first one to follow me to the ranch when I left Wildheart.”
“Oh,” I say, looking up at his bold blue eyes. A strange sadness lives there, but also a calm I haven’t seen before. “Well, I love your crazy brothers.”
“Crazy brothers,” he echoes, his gaze dancing over the meadow. “Big gift, bigger pain in the ass.”
At the mention of brothers, my brother’s words from earlier infiltrate my mind.
You’ll get hurt. He’ll get hurt. You’ll both get hurt.
I swallow hard. It’s pointless telling Charlie about my SVT now. I’m leaving. He has the ranch to focus on and I have my life. All I see is a headache when I just want to enjoy what I need right now.
Which is Charlie.
I like him. More than I want to admit.
“You want to kick up the speed?” Charlie’s gravelly voice sideswipes my thoughts.
I smile. “Let’s do it.”
With a smoothheeyah, Charlie digs in his heels, and Arrow launches into a lively trot. I giggle as the momentum sends me rebounding into Charlie’s chest. Thick muscles ripple beneath me as we bounce across the bright green field, over rock and hard earth. The body of the horse moves like Charlie’s trusted friend, and as we ride, Charlie points out sights on the ranch I have never seen. A field where a herd of cattle graze. A trout pond. A small cabin nestled back in the woods.
Thirty minutes later, I hear rushing water.
When we reach the creek, Charlie dismounts and helps me down. I slip off my shoes and sit on the creek’s edge, running my hand over a bright patch of Asters while Charlie lets Arrow drink. Today, he looks like a modern cowboy in jeans, a white T-shirt, and a baseball cap. The carefree look on his face is a rare sight.
I wish I knew what took that away from him.
Charlie turns to me. “So, what else is on your bucket list?” He makes his way back to the bank, wiping water on the thighs of his dusty jeans before settling beside me on the blanket we’ve spread out. “Rob a bank? Jump out of a plane?”
You. Just you.
The thought has me flushing and I duck my head, bumping my shoulder to his. “Still need to see a sunrise.”
“We will. At least you can check riding a horse off your list.” His chuckle is like whiskey and velvet. “Which reminds me. You never told me what your thorn was today.”
Damn him. He’s being too sweet. I’ll cave.
“Ever done something you shouldn’t? Like a bad deed, but you don’t regret it?” An expression I can’t make out filters across his face. When he says nothing, I tuck my hands between my thighs and exhale. “Because I have. I might have done something bad to someone I care about.” My eyes fall to the rocky bank where a patch of glacier lilies grow. Guilt wells inside me, my stomach tightening. “I lied to them. And if they ever found out, I don’t know if they’d forgive me.”
“They’ll forgive you.” Reaching out, his fingers fiddle with a lock of my hair before tucking it behind my ear. “You don’t have a bad bone in your body, Ruby.”
I look past him to the creek. My tears are on the verge of unleashing. “What about a bad heart?” I whisper.
I’m close. The words are threatening to burst out of my chest.I’m lying to you.I’m sick.And in two years, I’ll probably die.
Get it out, get it over. But it crosses a line, because we’re not together. We’re not anything. And we can’t be.
Even if a tiny voice inside my heart whispers to me that it could be possible.
