They each finished a saddle and grabbed another. When she faltered in hefting the saddle over the sawhorse, he said, “Want a hand?”
“I got it,” she said.
They continued on in companionable silence, listening to the music. He caught himself glancing at her waist, wondering what she’d do if he grabbed her up and two-stepped her around the yard.
He was really losing his mind, wasn’t he?
Once they finished afternoon chores, he waved toward the freshly polished saddles. “Wanna take a ride?”
Surprise registered on her face, and she looked up at him. “Sure.”
They selected their mounts and saddled up. She followed his lead out across the field. He’d seen her ride a bit while checking the cattle, but they hadn’t really done much exploring.
He pointed toward the corner. “See that tallest tree?”
She shielded her eyes with a hand, which brought her breasts jutting forward. Her top hugged her full curves. Damn, he never wanted to be a piece of fabric so much—or to peel it off someone.
“I see it,” she said.
“That’s the boundary of this land. The Windswept takes over from there.”
She shifted her attention to him, and he saw the sad light lingering in the recesses of her eyes.
He shouldn’t have brought up the ranch she’d lost. How to make her smile again?
“Race ya to it.”
She blinked. “What’s the bet?”
He grinned. “You do the next load o’ dishes, even if they’re mine.”
“You’re on.”
“Sidle up next to me here. That’s it—we gotta even the score.”
“Doesn’t matter—I’ll win.”
He’d never heard her cocky form of sass before, and it made him laugh. Chuckling, he said, “All right, Mizz Baker. Show me your stuff. On three. Two. One.”
They shot forward at the same moment. Exhilaration hit, and he let out a whoop. Liberty dug her thighs into the horse and sent it rocketing ahead of him, her own cry of elation catching on the wind and projected to him.
He watched her round ass bounce in the saddle for three full gallops before he realized he was about to do a load of dishes.
“Yah!” He set his heels into his horse’s flanks, and it reacted instantly, edging up neck and neck with Liberty’s.
“C’mon, Doodles! Faster!” she cried out.
He was going to beat her and kick back watching her wash the dishes for his reward. He was—
Wait—what?
“Did you call that horse Doodles?” He fell behind, and somehow she gained more ground, putting half the length of a horse between them.
Her laughter whipped up in the air, sweeping over him and leaving him feeling as though she’d just gripped him by the shirt front again.
Head down, he closed the gap. Up ahead, the tree loomed closer and closer. His eyes were on the prize.
No, they were on Liberty’s lush backside bouncing in that saddle. What he wouldn’t give to have her bouncing in his saddle, right over his cock.
While he was distracted, she pulled ahead. Almost lying flat on her mount like a jockey, she took off hell-bent for the goal.
Her cheer reached him long before he grew aware of his loss. Liberty wheeled her horse around, a huge smile plastered on her face, happiness dancing in her eyes and her pretty cheeks flushed.
His chest tightened. Hell. What he wouldn’t give to trot over to her, pull her down into his arms and kiss her breathless lips.
That was more than his dick talkin’ too, which worried him even more.
He felt the scowl dipping his brows together as he rode up. She took one look at his face, and her expression fell.
“Guess I’m doin’ the dishes,” he muttered.
“You asked for it, Bellamy.” She didn’t address him by his name often, and he didn’t really want to hear his last name from her.
“You won fair and square.” He stared at her mouth hard.
She drew her lower lip between her teeth and compressed it.
Christ, he had to get out of here before he made a huge mistake. He didn’t want a wife, and a woman Liberty’s age and status wouldn’t be looking for less. Older, divorced, without kids? She would be in the market for a family. His life was this ranch, and now the land his ancestors had worked too.
Turning his horse, he threw Liberty a glance. “See ya at the house.”
“Yeah,” she said faintly. “See ya.”
As he galloped off, he considered the sunny side of this situation—at least he made up his mind about whether or not to take her with him to see that horse. Spending any more time with Liberty would only build his attraction for her—and he was already too dangerously close to making a fatal error.
* * * * *
Damned stubborn ass. A bad loser too.
Liberty methodically stripped off her top, folded it and draped it over the end of the bed. She did the same with her jeans. Next came her bra. Finally, she tugged her favorite big nightshirt over her head.
A line of buttons ran from the collar to the hem, like a man’s shirt. Some of the buttons didn’t stay closed, but the soft cotton against her skin always felt like hugging an old friend. Right now she could use a warm friend.
After the debacle of the impromptu race—and then Aidan standing at the sink long after the time he normally slipped off to bed—she felt his cold shoulder like a stiff Nor’easter.
Maybe her horse was faster. Maybe she won because she was lighter in the saddle.
Maybe it doesn’t damn well matter who won—he’s acting like a sulky ass.
She switched on her bedside light, creating a cozy glow in her room. She’d come to love when she got to slide between cool sheets and read for a spell before falling asleep. These small pleasures had been huge contributing factors to that peace she felt, and she enjoyed every minute.
She walked to her bedroom door and opened it a crack. Since bumping into Aidan several times they both headed to the bathroom, she started doing a lookout first.
Her gaze swept the empty hall. Since the coast was clear, she hurried into the bathroom and shut the door. She didn’t want to meet up with his broody expression, and she definitely did not want to see that naked chest of his. It was far too muscular—like a lion’s or a panther’s. The roll to his shoulders when he moved was almost predatory too.
After she washed her face and brushed her teeth, she bolted toward her room.
She didn’t take a single step before his door opened opposite the bathroom, and she came face-to-chest with him.
Why had she never noticed the dark, springy hairs spattered over his pecs? Or those washboard abs that kept on going down to meet a furred love trail leading to—
She clamped off that thought and jerked her head up to meet his stare. He wasn’t looking at her face. Her stomach dipped lower—he was staring at the place where her nightshirt barely concealed the tops of her thighs. One shift of her body and he’d see much more.
He lifted his gaze a tick, latching it onto the center of her body. Before glancing down, she knew that pesky button had popped open again. Lord knew what the man was seeing.
“Uh—excuse me.” She rushed toward her room, but he stopped her when she reached the door.
“Liberty.” His throat sounded dry. Parched, in fact—as parched as hers felt inside, cracked and aching for a single drop of…well, anything to quench this thirst.