Buttercup neighed.
Jane jumped back on her one good foot, nearly falling on her ass.
Brock smiled and reached for her hips and lifted. “Up you go.”
“Ahh!” Jane let out a little squeak. The minute she was in the saddle, her hands found the horn and gripped tight. “It’s high.”
“You’ll be fine.”
“Super high.”
“I know.”
“This horse is tall.”
Buttercup neighed like she knew she was getting a compliment.
“I’ll be right behind you.”
“You better be.” Jane clenched her teeth. “You know when Bentley mentioned this, I wasn’t imagining I’d be riding Goliath.”
“You have no idea how desperately I want to comment on that, but I think it might make you blush again.”
She laughed, but it was a nervous laugh, one that said he’d better hurry his ass up before she burst into tears.
He heaved himself up behind her and grabbed the reins and she automatically slid backward. A grunt erupted between his clenched teeth at the soft contact of her ass.
He was going to murder his brother.
This was a horrible idea.
Not because he wasn’t enjoying himself, but because he was enjoying himself too much, outside; where anyone could see them, and now he was paranoid. Especially after Bentley’s warning.
She moved, just slightly.
Terrible idea.
All he wanted to do was take her back to the house and kiss her—everywhere. Because her mouth, as tempting as it was, wouldn’t be enough. Already he’d tasted and wanted more. Her neck, her fingers, her thighs—he wanted his mouth everywhere.
Another slight movement had him inwardly groaning.
His body burned as she thrust back against him. It was all he could do not to take her right here on this horse. Cameras be damned.
“Comfortable?” His teeth were still clenched; he gripped the reins as if his life depended on it.
“Yes.” Her voice was wobbly, unsure.
“Shall we see how fast Buttercup can gallop?” he teased.
“S-sure.”
“Relax,” he whispered in her ear. The temptation to lick her neck was utterly ridiculous, but there it was. “We’re going to walk nice and slow.”
“I like walking.”
“Good.” He pulled on the reins and whistled. Buttercup ambled out of the barn, and past the cock who’d suddenly gone silent as the horse went by.
“Oh, oh, wow.” Jane dug her nails into his arm, which she’d had in a death grip since he’d gotten on behind her. “This is, this is—”
“Nice?”
She laughed. “Yeah, really nice.”
“Do you want to go faster?”
“Maybe…”
“Come on, live a little.”
“Where has Boring Brock disappeared to?”
“Eh, I left him back in the barn with the cock.”
Jane let her head fall back against his chest as she laughed. “The poor cock is going to commit roostercide. Poor guy will be so bored, what will he do?”
“Did you just call me boring?”
She shrugged and then glanced over her shoulder. “I’ve just noticed a certain lack of color.”
“I wear color,” he said defensively, looking down at his black T-shirt. “I just didn’t bring anything like that with me.”
“Mmm, I see.”
“All right, you’ve asked for it.”
“Oh?”
“I hate to do this, but you better hold on. Clearly I have something to prove.”
“Brock—”
“Hold tight, Jane,” he whispered in her ear, just as he dug his heels into Buttercup’s sides. The horse took off at a gallop. Thankfully, riding a horse was like riding a bike: you didn’t forget.
Jane let out a loud gasp. Earlier Brock hadn’t thought she could grip him any harder—he was wrong. He’d have nail prints in his arms for days. But she was safe with him; he wouldn’t let her fall.
Jane’s hair was blowing in his face and it smelled like raspberries. He inhaled deeply.
Trouble. He was in so much trouble.
Because for a moment, the temptation to look beyond the next two weeks was almost too much to resist. There might be a life where he was able to have Jane in his arms like this, where he wouldn’t be paranoid about his Grandfather dying over a simple word—or worried that a camera would catch him kissing a woman he actually had feelings for.
He had once loved this ranch.
And she was making him love it again, but she was part of it. The ranch without Jane would just be a house.
She made it feel like home.
Hell, he was so happy he’d even let the cock stay.
Outdoors, of course.
Eventually, he slowed Buttercup to a walk and Jane unclenched his arm.