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I follow his lead, though not nearly as gracefully. My legs wobble as I hit the ground, and Eddie chuckles, steadying me with a hand at my waist.

“Not bad, city girl.”

I roll my eyes, but my pulse skips when his fingers linger a second too long before he pulls away.

He ties off the horses to a low-hanging branch, then strides toward the center of the meadow. From his saddlebag, he pulls out a blanket, shaking it out over the grass.

“What’s this?” I ask.

He drops down onto it, stretching out with a lazy confidence that makes my breath catch. “Stargazin’.”

I hesitate.

It’s intimate.

Too intimate.

And yet, when he lifts his arm in invitation, patting the spot beside him, my feet move before my brain catches up.

I sink down beside him, lying back against the soft fabric. The sky is endless above us, a sea of inky black sprinkled with silver. It’s breathtaking.

But not as breathtaking as the man beside me.

He shifts, turning his head toward me. “You ever do this before?”

I shake my head. “Not like this.”

A beat of silence. Then—

“C’mere.”

My breath catches.

He lifts his arm again, an unspoken invitation. An offering.

I should say no.

I should.

Because every time I let myself get closer, I fall a little harder. And I don’t think Eddie even realizes he’s catching me.

But my body betrays me.

Slowly, hesitantly, I shift closer, resting my head against his chest. His arm tightens around me, his fingers idly tracing patterns against my shoulder.

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

His heartbeat is steady beneath my cheek, a comforting rhythm that makes my own pulse slow.

The sky above us stretches endlessly, a canvas of deep indigo and scattered stars, each one winking down like a secret waiting to be told. The meadow is quiet except for the soft rustle of grass in the breeze and the occasional huff from the horses where they stand tied a few feet away. Eddie’s warmth seeps into my side, his arm cradling me close against his chest as I rest my head there, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

“This one here,” he says, his voice slow and rhythmic, “is Orion. You can tell by the three stars in a row—that’s his belt.” He raises his arm to point, and I follow the movement, my gaze trailing the strong line of his forearm before flicking to the stars he’s showing me.

I hum softly in acknowledgment, completely at ease in a way that feels almost surreal. “And what’s that one?” I lift a finger toward another cluster.

“The Pleiades—Seven Sisters,” he tells me, his tone carrying that easy, almost hypnotic cadence that makes me want to close my eyes and just listen to him talk forever.

I tilt my head to look at him, my cheek pressing against his chest. “How do you know so much about stars?”