He studies me for a beat. “When’s the last time you did anything that scared you?”
I pause to think but come up blank. “I don’t know,” I say, unsure. “I used to be more daring. Freer. Then I became a wife, had kids, and…” I shrug, feeling the fall breeze as he leads me towards the horses. “Things changed. I changed.”
He brushes my hair from my face, barely touching my skin. But it makes my whole damn body tingle with need. A moment of quiet settles between us. Easy. Unforced. Melting away the last of my nerves.
“Then let’s fix that.” His voice is warm, coaxing.
“Okay.” I take a deep breath. I think I’d say yes to him for just about anything.
“Come on.” He grins, guiding me to the mounting block.
He takes my hand. “Place your left foot here.” His other hand settles at my waist, steady and sure. “Now push up and swing your right leg over… that’s it.”
I climb onto the saddle, grateful I wore jeans today. His hand settles on my side, lingering far too long. But I don’t mind. My body clearly doesn’t either.
“You look good on a horse… really good,” he murmurs, stepping back, his eyes never leaving me. “Ready to ride with me?”
I nod, my pulse pounding for a million different reasons. “Yes.”
“Don't worry, Dutchess is slow and steady. Perfect for someone your age.” His smirk deepens and those dimples wreck me.
I scoff, breathless. “Are you calling me old?”
“Not old…” He winks, mounting on his own horse effortlessly as if he were born to ride. “Just older than me.”
We trot through the open fields, beauty surrounding us. Wildflowers, tall green grass, the wind on our cheeks. Dylan rides next to me, calm and relaxed. Conversation flows easy. We talk about childhood memories, unfiltered dreams, the pieces of ourselves we rarely share with anyone else. He tells me about the first time he rode a horse, how he fell flat on his ass in front of his first crush. And I laugh… really, really laugh, and it feels so damn good.
At some point, Dylan closes his eyes mid-ride, lifting his face toward the sky.
“Ummm… what are you doing?” I ask, watching him.
He exhales, his voice softer. “Committing this to memory.”
“What?” I tug on the reins.
“This.” His eyes flick back open, locking onto mine. “You.”
Heat spreads through my chest.
“I want to remember how good this feels. How beautiful you look on a horse.” His voice drops, low and commanding. “Now, close your eyes. Trust me. It’s better this way.”
I hesitate, then close my eyes.
The world fades. Only the rhythmic sound of hooves and the wind against my face remain.
“What if you ride into a tree?” I laugh nervously.
“Then you’ll have to be my nurse.” He smirks, but there’s something tender beneath it. “And make me all better.”
The day feels like a dream I don’t want to wake up from.
Until I slow my horse and reach into my pocket to check the time. My lock screen lights up—my daughter's smiling facesstaring back at me. And missed calls. From Jacob. Shit. It’s my turn to take them to dance.
The dream shatters. My stomach drops, weighed down by guilt and longing. I’ve been gone too long.
Dylan knows and meets my gaze. “Time to go.” Because we both know what this is. What it can’t be.
“Yes. And Dylan…” My voice cracks. “Thank you for today. But I can’t come back here again. It’s too far from home. Too risky. Too careless.”
