Page 16 of Saddle Studs (Rainbow Ranch #3)

SAM

I hadn’t line danced a day in my life. Even though I was born and raised in Oklahoma, where line dancing was a constant at nearly every party, I somehow managed to avoid it.

Not because I didn’t like it or because I thought it was silly or anything like that.

I just had the absolute worst dancing skills known to mankind.

My feet functioned only to carry me from one place to another, preferably in a linear direction.

The second any kind of rhythm or beat was thrown in, I turned into a newborn foal finding their legs for the first time.

I almost didn’t even come to this line dancing night.

I strongly considered coming up with some kind of excuse, except I couldn’t think of anything.

I didn’t want to be an asshole either. Beau had been really excited about kicking off the first official line dancing nights at the ranch, and he had said it only made sense to have a beginner there so they could all start from the basics.

Besides, the opportunity to spend more time with Benny was something I wasn’t about to turn down, which was exactly why I agreed when he came up and asked me to dance with him.

“Okay,” Beau said, using his announcer voice to project to the group.

He wore a black fringe mask over the upper half of his face.

“Now that everyone’s paired up, we can start.

Line dancing isn’t one-size-fits-all, and every song has different steps.

I’m going to start with a pretty common song, one I’ll play a lot at our big events, but it’ll also cover the basics. Everyone ready?”

The gathered group gave a resounding hoot.

I tried hard not to focus on the feeling of Benny’s palms against mine, of his hand on my hip.

There was already enough to focus on with the steps, which I was getting wrong right from the start.

I moved backward when I was meant to move forward, right when I was supposed to go left, stood still when I was meant to spin.

At one point we used the bandanas as a way to teach us how to keep tension with our partners, but I had ended up accidentally letting go of the bandana which sent Benny tumbling backward.

I had helped him back up to his feet, embarrassed as fuck even though Benny assured me it was all fine.

“Sorry,” I said during a water break. “I’m not making it easy on you, am I?”

“When have you ever made it easy for me?” Benny asked, arms crossed, that handsome face of his cracking into a smile. “You’re doing just fine. Trust me.”

“Beau’s a good teacher,” I said, turning to spot Beau, one arm around Sky’s shoulder who had their arm looped around Pris’ waist.

“Yeah, he knows what he’s doing. And he’s patient, too, which is nice.”

“It’s nice just being back here, seeing your family, seeing how it’s grown.

” There was a rosy spread of warmth that curled outward from my chest. I’d always been as jealous of Benny’s close-knit family as I was appreciative.

My family was small, only me and my mom and dad.

Didn’t even have cousins and my grandparents were either far off in Costa Rica or dead.

Our holidays were always small, and there was never a party or a large dinner to be had.

Benny and the Adams family were the complete opposite.

They had large gatherings and celebrations for everything, and even when there wasn’t a big group gathering happening, it still felt like the Adams ranch home was always full of action and love.

There was never any negative energy or reason to feel like an outcast. I had felt accepted by them from the very first time I came over to hang out with Benny.

He’d just gotten the new Pokémon game after saving up his allowance for a year.

That weekend was absolutely epic.

“Alright my star pupils, time to get back in formation!” Beau took his place back at the front of the group. I followed Benny to our spot, where he took my hand in his and we went back to teaching me how to line dance. It was mission impossible… or mission limb-possible?

“You were getting it there toward the end,” Benny said, smiling as he opened his beer, the can hissing out into the night air. Colorful rainbow glitter sparkled on Benny’s forehead. It must have itched, because he wiped it off before I could mention it.

“Thanks,” I said, brushing off some glitter from my shirt. “Where did Beau get that glitter cannon from?”

“Amazon, probably. He’s got a whole stash of party supplies in his closet. Last I checked there were three different confetti launchers and something labeled ‘foam party grade only.’”

“That tracks,” I said, laughing. “That thing scared me. It was so loud.”

“Pris ducked so fast, she knocked over the lemonade.”

We both laughed and took a beat to sip our drinks.

The line dancing group had mostly trickled off, some heading to clean up, others back to their rooms. The music still played softly from the speaker on the back patio, now just background noise.

Fireflies blinked lazily near the field, and a few stars had pushed their way out into the purple evening sky.

“You feel like walking?” Benny asked, voice casual but quiet.

“Sure.”

We started toward the pasture trail, crunching along the gravel in comfortable silence.

The air was warm, but not heavy. Just the right kind of breeze that made you think about summer coming in full.

Benny wore his Stetson cowboy hat, the brim casting a soft shadow over his face.

It suited him. He always looked good in hats. Good in general, really.

We reached the main fence line and climbed up to sit on the top rail, legs dangling over.

The wood was worn smooth from years of use, cool under my palms. From here, you could see a lot of the ranch—the freshly painted paddocks, the barn lit with a low amber glow, the hills rolling out like a folded green quilt under the twinkling stars.

“I used to come out here a lot,” Benny said. “Especially at night. After my parents died.”

“I’m so sorry, Benny. I still think about them every day. I can’t imagine the pain you must feel.”

“The pain’s gotten easier to deal with, but it doesn’t go away. Don’t think it ever will.”

“Just know that you must be making them so damn proud. They really raised a good soul in you. In all of your siblings.”

Benny smiled at me, gentle and soft. “Thank you. That means a lot.”

“And it’s the truth.”

We slipped back into a comfortable silence as he took my words in. He leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on his thighs, beer can cradled between his hands. His profile was lit by starlight and a spill of porchlight, sharp and soft all at once.

“Ya know, I’ve been thinking about entering the barrel race at the festival next month,” he said, eyes fixed out in the dark. “Haven’t done one in years.”

I turned toward him. “You should. You one hundred percent should.”

He shrugged. “I always want to. Then I start thinking about how many people would be there. How I feel like I don’t know what I’m doing, or that I’m scared I’m just going to blank out. And the nerves hit. I end up talking myself out of it.”

“You’d kill it,” I said honestly. “You’d take Juniper, right? She’s fast as hell. And you… You ride like it’s instinct. You just look right in a saddle.”

Benny huffed a soft laugh and tipped his head toward me. “Careful, you’re flirting.”

“No, I’m not.” I paused. “Okay, maybe a little.”

“You’re also not wrong.”

We both smiled, and for a second, the moment stretched out in that special kind of way. Not tense. Not awkward. Just soft. Warm. Safe.

I looked over at him again and couldn’t help it. I reached out and slipped my hand into his. His skin was warm, a little rough from work. He didn’t pull away.

Instead, he shifted his fingers just slightly, enough that they laced through mine.

My heart did this annoying little flip. My chest felt full. Not tight. Not scared. Just full.

“You know,” I said, my voice low, “I think this is the most comfortable I’ve felt in years.”

Benny glanced sideways at me. His eyes flicked down to our hands, then back up. “Same.”

I leaned in.

He didn’t move.

His head tilted just a little.

And then, just as our lips were about to brush?—

SNORT.

A sharp wheeze broke the stillness.

I jumped. Benny did too. We turned simultaneously to see Dennis standing three feet away, staring at us like we’d interrupted his evening. He was backlit by the porch light, making him seem way more sinister than a miniature horse had any reason for being.

“Mother—“ Benny hissed.

Dennis blinked. Then sneezed, loudly, and trotted away.

“I swear to God,” I muttered, rubbing my face.

Benny was laughing, his shoulders shaking, the kind of snort-laugh that meant he was done for.

“I was having a moment,” I grumbled, but I couldn’t help laughing too.

“You’re lucky I didn’t fall off the fence,” Benny said through his laughter. “Maybe you should end up taking him after these ninety days are up.”

“No, no way. He’s all yours.”

We let the moment die down naturally, and then I rested my head lightly against Benny’s shoulder. He didn’t move away.

Ninety days… what if I don’t want it to end with these ninety days?

We sat like that until the music faded and the stars had fully claimed the sky, that singular question ringing in my head until my head hit the pillow.