“Blue!”
“Of course you do.” Ozzie held a hand out to Ivy, then looked to me. “I’ll take her inside until you’re ready to leave.”
“Thanks, Ozzie. I’ll see you in a bit, Ivy.”
“Bye bye, Daddy! Bye Matt!”
Opie tucked Ms. Cluck under his arm like a sequined clutch. “Ms. C and I shall escort the lady to refreshments.”
Opie wiggled his fingers at us as they headed up the lane, Ivy already chanting “bwoo pop, bwoo pop” as she skipped alongside Ozzie.
I folded my arms on the top rail and eyed Matty, who was staring at me in thatknowingway of his. “Therapy go okay?”
“Yeah,” I said, and the word came out softer than I meant. “She worked really hard.”
He didn’t push. Just nodded and watched with me, quiet and sure.
“Ride with me.”
My face turned red. “Matt?—”
He laughed out loud. “I meant the horse, Huds. We’re giving your ass a break, remember? Or are you too sore to seat a saddle?”
“I’m good. I’ll go saddle Big Red.”
“No.” He scooted back and patted the space in front of him. “You ride with me.”
29
MATTY
Hudson swung into the saddle with a grunt, his jeans dragging against the worn leather, and I steadied him with one hand on his hip. He wobbled for a second, then glanced over his shoulder with a crooked grin.
“Is this the princess seat?” He settled himself right against me.
I barked out a laugh, looping the reins in one hand and tucking my other arm across his middle. I couldn’t resist slipping my hand beneath his shirt and stroking his taut belly. Yeah, it was gonna be hell not touching his ass for a while to give him a break. “If you’re the princess, what does that make me?”
“You’re the knight. Always have been.”
That lodged somewhere in my chest, heavier than I wanted to admit. He’d come a long way in openly admitting his feelings, and I couldn’t ask for anything else of him.
Junebug stepped out steadily, her hooves drumming a slow rhythm into the packed dirt. The sun was dropping lower now, the heat easing into something kinder, and thebreeze carried the smell of cut grass and cottonwoods. Hudson leaned back without seeming to think about it, his shoulders pressing into my chest, his head on my shoulder. It felt…right. Too damn right.
I adjusted the reins, guiding Junebug across the pasture. The creak of the saddle, the sway of her stride, Hudson’s weight pressed into me—everything slowed, smoothed out. Like this was how it was supposed to be all along.
“You know,” Hudson said after a bit, voice quiet but not hesitant, “I don’t hate being in this seat and having you take control, though you already know that.”
“Mm.” I smirked, pressing my knees into Junebug’s sides to push her into a full run. Hudson jolted forward, a startled laugh breaking out of him as he clutched the horn.
“Bastard.”
“You’re the one who wanted a ride.”
He twisted his head enough to look at me, his grin lopsided and warm. For a second, I forgot the reins in my hands, forgot everything but the spark in his eyes. I eased the reins, and Junebug settled back into a walk.
“We’ve been getting amazing weather,” he said after a while, tipping his face into the breeze.
“Knock wood it’ll last,” I murmured. “Winters are tough on everyone.”
