Page 143 of Scent to the Feral Cowboys

Maybe she’d thaw if I moved first. I turned back to Ghost, feeling Nelly's eyes on me as I approached the stall. My fingers trembled slightly as I held out the sugar cube. My entire body was a livewire, a reaction I hadn't experienced since those first tentative touches with Cooper and Levi, when everything between us was new and uncertain.

Ghost stretched her neck, eyes eager, her warm breath gusting against my palm. She took the sugar enthusiastically, lips velvety against my skin as she swept the cube into her mouth. Her ears flicked forward in pleasure, and she shook her head, sending her mane dancing.

"Good girl," I murmured, stroking her nose. Ghost leaned into my touch, seeking more affection. I obliged, scratching behind her ears where she liked it best.

A soft shuffling announced Nelly’s approach. I didn't turn around, instead patiently waiting and letting my Omega take her time. I continued stroking Ghost's nose, keeping my movements slow and predictable, creating a bubble of calm that I hoped would envelop Nelly too. The space between my shoulder blades prickled with awareness as she drew ever closer, one cautious step at a time.

And then she was beside me, not touching, but close enough that her scent made me inhale deeply and flutter lashes. I had to fight to keep my eyes open and not float away on a wave of desire. I could taste my pulse. I wondered if Nelly could hear how hard my heart pumped blood through me. Ghost's attention shifted to the new arrival, her dark eyes focusing with intelligent curiosity, nostrils flaring as she also took in Nelly's scent.

"She's beautiful," Nelly said softly, the sugar cube still clutched in her palm but not yet offered.

I nodded, not trusting my voice in that moment. This woman had somehow both shattered my carefully constructed defensesand made me feel more whole than I had in years. I really didn’t think I’d survive if she left us…left me.

"What's her name?" Nelly asked, her voice small but clear in the hushed atmosphere of the stable.

The question I'd been dreading. I swallowed hard, searching for the right words. "She doesn't have one," I said finally, the half-truth sitting uncomfortably on my tongue. "Not officially."

Nelly's brow furrowed, creating a small crease between her eyebrows that I had the irrational urge to smooth away with my thumb. "What have you been calling her then?" she pressed. "Every creature needs a name. They can't be remembered without a name."

Her voice cracked on the last word, emotion bleeding through. "People will forget her," she added, and to my surprise, a single tear slipped from her eye, tracking a glistening path down her cheek.

The sight of that tear undid me completely. Without thinking—without allowing myself to think—I reached out, my thumb gently catching the droplet before it could fall. Her skin was soft beneath my touch, warm and alive. For one suspended moment, neither of us moved, caught in the strange intimacy of the gesture.

Nelly's breath hitched, her body going perfectly still beneath my touch. Her eyes widened, pupils dilating slightly as they locked with mine. I could feel her pulse racing beneath my fingertips, matching the frantic rhythm of my own heart. Too much, too soon. I had crossed a line, but I couldn’t move my hand. I couldn’t stop touching her now that I’d felt the silky texture of her skin.

She had to lift her hand, curling fingers around mine, and tug me away.

Yet now I had touchedmoreof her. Not just her lovely face, but her hand too.

Gateway drugs.

Addicting me immediately.

No black box warning.

"I'm sorry," I said quickly, stepping back, creating space between us. "I shouldn't have?—"

I broke off, unsure how to finish that sentence.Shouldn't have touched her? Shouldn't have presumed? Shouldn't have responded to her pain as if I had any right to ease it?All true, yet in that moment, I couldn't bring myself to regret the brief connection, inappropriate as it was.

Ghost nickered softly, breaking the tension. She stretched her neck toward Nelly, interested in the second sugar cube.

"I've been calling her Ghost," I blurted out, desperate to move past the moment of my transgression. "Just... in my head. Because of the gray mark on her chest and because I didn’t know if you’d ever be real." The words tumbled out, more than I'd intended to share.

I waited for Nelly's reaction, for her to step back, to retreat behind her walls of wariness and distrust. Instead, she remained beside me, her gaze shifting from my face to the horse. The silence stretched between us, taut as a wire.

What was she thinking?I couldn’t even begin to guess. It was easy with the guys, because we’d been together so long. I wondered what it would be like to have that kind of connection with Nelly. To know her thoughts before she spoke them, to feel her emotions as if they were my own.

I pushed the thought away. That kind of bond couldn't be forced or rushed. It grew from trust, from mutual choice, from time spent learning each other's rhythms and respecting each other's boundaries. None of which could happen if she left.

And she would leave, wouldn’t she? As soon as Cooper got an answer from Eros, as soon as we found a way to break the contract without repercussions, she would be gone. Backto Seattle, back to her life before us. The thought felt like swallowing broken glass.

I focused again on Ghost, on the present moment. The horse was growing impatient; her gaze fixed on the sugar cube in Nelly's hand. I gestured toward it gently.

"She's waiting," I said, my voice rougher than I intended. "If you still want to."

Nelly looked down at the treat in her palm as if she'd forgotten it was there. I watched her gather herself and saw the precise moment she decided. Her shoulders straightened slightly, her chin lifting in that unapologetic, resistant way I’d already come to love. Even in borrowed clothes too large for her frame, even with tear tracks still visible on her cheek, she carried herself with grace. She stepped forward, lifting her hand.

This small act of courage shouldn't have affected me so deeply.