“He’s got great taste.” Jesse’s eyes wandered to mine again. “Great taste.”
I tapped my heels together Dorothy-style. “The boots are pretty fantastic, too. And I’m a girl who knows boots.”
“Yes, you do,” he said before grabbing Sunny’s reins and leading him toward the stream. I followed and enjoyed the break in the conversation.
“So, there’s this dance . . . thing.” Jesse cleared his throat. So much for a break in the conversation. “It’s next weekend, and I was thinking . . . Well, I wanted to ask you—”
“Jesse Walker,” I said, coming up beside him, “are you asking me to the prom?” I clasped my hands together and batted my lashes.
“From the way my palms are sweating,” Jesse wiped his hands off on his jeans, “you’d think I am.”
“Well, I’d love to go with you, but I’ve already got a date.”
His expression fell. “You do?”
“Yeah. Your ex-girlfriend,” I said, nudging him.
Relief flashed over his face before it was promptly replaced with concern.
“Don’t worry. I promise I’ll save you a dance. Or two.” I wondered if I’d just pulled a line from a classic movie or if people really said that kind of stuff. I didn’t know. I’d never been to a dance. The closest I’d ever made it to one was the parking lot of my high school. After that not-so-pleasurable experience, I wrote off all future dances. I didn’t want to go to all the trouble of getting dressed up when the only dance my date wanted was in the back seat of his car.
“Or three,” Jesse added. “Or all of them.”
“Greedy,” I muttered to Sunny who continued to drink from the stream so deeply you’d think he was trying to drain it.
“Not greedy, just hopelessly optimistic.”
“You know the definition of ‘hopelessly,’ right?” I lifted an eyebrow.
Jesse smiled into the stream and scratched the back of his head. “Well, then how ‘bout this? We have shared a bed now, like you said. I think that kind of exclusivity goes with dance partners as well.”
“Is it a waste of breath if I keep arguing with you?”
“Probably.”
I shouldered him. “We’d better get back,” I said, “before they miss us and the rumors start flying.”
Jesse chuckled. “The rumors were flying the moment you and I were out of earshot.” He grabbed my waist, and before the air had whooshed from my mouth, I was perched back on top of Sunny.
“Okay, Muscles,” I said, grabbing hold of the saddle horn, “next time you decide to toss me on top of a giant beast, could you give me a moment’s warning first?”
Just as quickly, Jesse’s body slid into position behind me. He could literally mount and dismount a horse in the blink of an eye. He really was a cowboy.
“Moment’s warning before putting you on top of a giant beast?” he repeated, bobbing his head beside mine. “Okay. Done.” When his arms came around me to grab hold of the reins, I realized I’d been wrong. Riding behind Jesse wasn’t as good as it got. Riding in front of him was. I was cocooned in his hold. Protected. Safe.
It didn’t hurt that his legs were basically wrapped around me either.
“I’d loved to stay out here all day and talk, or bicker, or . . .” the inflection in his voice filled in the blanks, “but I’ve still got another eight hours of work in front of me today.”
I threw a longing look at the sandy bank beside the stream. The bittersweet taste of what the day could have been . . .
“Yeah. And I’ve got about eight hours of egg collecting, porch sweeping, laundry washing, and meatloaf making in front of me.”
Jesse made some clicking sound with his mouth, squeezed his legs, and we were off. Sunny seemed to only have two speeds: fast and holy-shit-fast. “Mom’s keeping you busy?” Jesse had to holler a bit given the wind cutting over us from Sunny’s take-no-prisoners sprint.
“A squirrel in the fall is busy. I’m something else entirely,” I yelled back.
“Ranch life’s not exactly what you anticipated?” Jesse’s mouth moved just outside my ear. I knew he’d likely done it so we didn’t have to keep screaming back and forth, but like so many random exchanges between Jesse and me that were innocent on the surface, it felt oddly intimate. So intimate, my eyelids dropped and my mouth parted for a brief moment.
Then I realized Jesse was waiting for my response, and when I opened my eyes, he was watching me with a bit of amusement. That I didn’t flush fire-engine red or become a stuttering idiot was a testament to how much practice I’d had overcoming those kinds of awkward situations. The embarrassment on my end part, not the smokin’ hot cowboy staring at me with a melt-your-panties-right-off smile.
“No, it’s not what I expected,” I answered, twisting my head so I could return the mouth-just-outside-the-ear favor. “It’s better.”
I couldn’t see Jesse’s expression from the way my head was turned, but I felt it without having to see it. I felt it in the way his arms tightened around me. I felt it in the way the side of his face pressed into the side of mine. I felt it in the physical, but I felt it in the something else, too. In the something deeper that was just below the surface. It was staggering. It was purposeful.
It was a first.
Yet another of the many I’d experienced with Jesse. And the guy’s hands and mouth hadn’t even wandered into the PG-13 territory yet. That was saying something.