Page 16 of Stirring Spurs (Rainbow Ranch #1)

WYLIE

Spending time with Boone in the back of the truck, under the stars, did something to me. Yeah, I got my rocks off in a way I haven’t in a very long time, but it wasn’t only that. It scratched something deep inside. Something not used to being scratched—my dang heart.

The few times I’ve been with other men, it was always quick.

Dirty. In a tent up on a mountain corralling sheep.

Behind a barn after mucking out the stalls.

Never much talking and rarely kissing. And if there was, it wasn’t…

sweet. Caring. All the things Boone makes me feel when he looks at me with those giant green eyes.

Like he’s cooking something up in that head of his.

Over the next few days, we fall into a rhythm. It’s new for me, but I try not to overthink it. Kinda like riding off a cliff, but knowing someone will catch you—that’s what he does to me.

I see him at breakfast every day. The first morning after the night under the stars, I snuck in early for a kiss.

But when Boone brought out biscuits slathered in gravy, he placed the platter on the table then slathered me with his own kiss.

Right in front of the entire crew seated around the table.

Beau gave me a wink, but otherwise, nobody said boo about it.

Tonight, when Boone brings out a large bowl of salad, he places it in the center of the table with a flourish.

“White clover,” he says and shoots me a wink.

Sure enough, atop the salad, scattered like tiny emerald confetti, are the leaves from the flowers I gave him.

“Seriously? You’re putting weeds in the salad now?” Benny teases.

Boone just grins, laying a hand on my shoulder. “They’re not weeds; they’re wild herbs —good for you, and taste better than you’d think.” He gives me a tap.

Benny grabs a sprig, pops it into his mouth, and gives a faint nod.

“Okay, okay. Not horrible,” he admits, still chewing.

“See?” Boone leans forward, his stomach against my upper back. “Nature’s little gifts. You just have to know where to get 'em.”

He squeezes my shoulders, now with both hands, then heads back into the kitchen.

After dinner, I give Boone space to do what he needs in the kitchen and spend more time with Noodles. I sit in his stall with him and bring him that cake Boone bakes especially for me to feed him—always vanilla with less sugar in the icing. We’re not trying to have a sick horse on our hands.

I talk to Noodles, more than I’ve talked to almost anyone.

I take time to tell him about my family.

The good times, before it all went to crap.

He swishes his tail, usually falling asleep standing up, but I know he hears me.

Noodles doesn’t judge. Talking to him might be good practice for saying it all to someone else someday .

It feels good to get it out, like a rope deep inside me that's been tangled in knots finally coming free.

After Boone finishes in the kitchen, I hear him take the trash and compost out, and I head over to meet him. We walk on the dirt road that leads to the spot he took me to in the truck, occasionally stopping to lock lips. Sometimes we get a little handsy, but mostly it’s just kissing.

On Saturday, Boone takes me out past the cornfields where the stars work overtime to shine through the clouds.

After my lips are red and swollen from being kissed, sucked, and bitten, we rest on the ground, surrounded by the tall stalks.

There’s a spark deep in my chest—flickering at first, then growing to a steady burn—and for once, I don’t keep it in. I say something first.

“You don’t mind?”

“Mind what?”

Boone’s between my legs, laying back on my chest. My arms wrap around his torso as we stare into the sky, searching.

“Only kissing?”

Before he can answer, a tinge of worry flickers in my stomach. Maybe he didn’t enjoy the night in the truck. Had I done something wrong?

I grind my teeth and pull Boone closer. He’s here with me, and has been every night since then.

“Are you kidding me?”

He sits up, shifting so he’s looking at me, the same way he was staring at the sky.

“I love kissing you.”

As if to prove it, he ghosts his lips on mine and lingers a little.

“I wasn’t trying to pressure you.” Boone’s breath tickles my nose. “For more. I know you’re not staying much past the rodeo.”

I take a deep breath, focusing on his face, trying to get it out.

“What if…”

In the moonlight, Boone’s eyes search mine for more. I gaze at his beautiful face. His beautiful soul. I don’t want to quit him. The words tumble out before I can stop them.

“What if I stayed?”

He’s quiet. His perfect lips part, but only air escapes.

“Have to talk to Beau, of course. Wouldn’t want to overstay my welcome. But Noodles and I seem to have a good thing going. Wouldn’t want him to pull back into his shell after I left.”

A smile tugs at his lips, like he’s trying to keep it at bay.

“I mean, we can’t upset Noodles,” he says. “And if you want me to talk to Beau, say the word. He doesn’t want folks to know it, but he’s a softy. Okay, not really. But for me, yes. He may only be two minutes older, but I’ll always be his baby brother.”

I shake my head. “Thanks, but I’ll talk to him. Still got a week to get Noodles in shape. Kinda want to make a little more progress first.”

“Totally understandable. Now, back to the kissing.” He dips in and steals one. “I’m in no rush, but I wouldn’t mind a repeat of the other night, either.”

“Ain't got no truck,” I say, glancing around.

“No, but we both have rooms.”

“That allowed?” I ask. “Not trying to break any rules before I have a chat with the boss about staying on.”

“It’s allowed, so long as we’re not disturbing anyone. Trust me, my siblings have plenty of fun in their quarters. ”

He lets out a big yawn that goes on and on, and I quickly realize he’s faking it.

“Boy, am I tired.” He wrangles up another bogus yawn. “Best be getting back… to our rooms.”

With a flush of heat to my neck, I push myself to stand, grabbing his hand and yanking him up after me.

“Better get back, then.”

I give his ass a quick slap with my free hand, and we head back.

Before I know it, our pace quickens, and we start to jog, with quiet laughter between us and the cool night air rushing against our faces.

All that exists is the beat of our feet, a primal rhythm against the earth, and the magnetic pull of the main house drawing us closer.