“I am,” he said, his eyes warming as his hands slid down to my waist. “Always.”
The word hit a little harder than he probably meant it, because did that mean for tonight? Or this week? Longer?
I had no business thinking along those lines.
Clearing my throat, I stepped out of his arms, grabbed the empty plate, and started toward the door. “Come on, Tracksuit. We’ve got some asses to kick.”
Beckett’s hand rested on the small of my back as he followed me inside, and though nothing about the night had gotten simpler, I felt steadier than I had before.
Not fixed, not even close. But maybe steady was enough for now.
20
BECKETT
IHAD BEEN on a horse exactly once in my life.
I was nine and the horse’s name was Buttercup.
Buttercup hated me, for reasons my nine-year-old self couldn’t fathom other than I’d never heard ofThe Princess Bridecharacter that she’d been named after. I’d been lucky to walk away without a concussion from her kicking out at my head after the most terrifying ride of my life.
So when Sawyer led me to the resort stables the next day like he’d been born to do this—sunglasses pushed up into his hair, looking completely at ease in jeans, boots, and a soft maroon sweater that made me wish I’d made a move last night—I hoped we were only going for the view. Not to actually ride or anything, because…no.
I glanced over at the horses already trotting along with riders, all of them with an apparent death wish, and quickly looked away.
“There’s supposed to be a nice trail for us to ride down,” Sawyer said, and checked his watch. “The guide said to meet her here and she’d find us.”
“Oh.” I forced my voice to stay normal. “So we’re riding?”
“Yeah, I thought we could use some time away from everyone. Just have a day off from the madness, you know.” He grinned at me, eyes bright and hopeful. “Is this okay?”
“Of course.” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. He was doing something he thought would be good for the two of us, and giving us space from his family and Peter and the noise of the week, and apparently that meant I was about to climb onto an animal that could feel fear and try to pretend like I didn’t.
There went my hope of keeping my feetonthe ground.
I didn’t say anything as Sawyer led us down to the fence near the stables, where a couple of horses stood saddled and waiting, their coats glossy in the late-morning sun. They were beautiful, I’d give them that. From a safe distance.
“You good?” Sawyer asked, lifting a brow as he slowed.
“Fantastic.”
“Really? ’Cause you look a little green. It wasn’t the smoked salmon at breakfast, was it?”
“No, no.”
Wait.I should’ve said yes. That would’ve gotten me out of this.Dammit.
“Oh, I see.” Sawyer’s grin spread slowly. “You’re scared.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.” His expression softened slightly, though the amusement didn’t leave his eyes. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“I, uh, didn’t think you’d actually want to ride them. Just…”
“Look at them?”
“Maybe.”