Page 51 of Against The Tide

“Maybe I should’ve offered my place because you’re starting to sound like the grumpy old woman.”

Rhett’s so close that when I look up at him, my lips brush his jaw. The briny smell of his skin, along with the faint wisp of his cologne, draw me even closer. With his hand molding to my hip, my blood begins to simmer in my veins. Until the lightest stroke of his thumb on the sliver of skin exposed at the bottom of my shirt brings it to a boil that bubbles in my ears, making it hard for me to catch my breath. All I can do is clasp my coffee tighter with both of my hands.

“Hungry?” he asks with a deep gravel that has heat pooling between my thighs.

God, the effect he has on me is unlike anything I’ve ever felt. It’s as though I’m starved for his touch and his presence. Like I’ve been so for years.

Nodding my reply, I swallow down the urge to come nearer. The tip of his nose brushes over my hair, sending my heartbeat berserk.

I have to cross my legs to stop myself from falling on my ass. Everything fades to nothing at the feel of his sweet-coated breaths fluttering over my skin. The small kiss Rhett presses to my forehead before he pulls away leaves me yearning for more.

Without another word, he hands me a cupcake. It’s so big that it’s more of a muffin. The icing is a little goopy as it runs over the sides of the case and onto my fingers.

“Is cake for breakfast a thing for you?”

“What can I say? That kid is a bad influence.”

The goofy expression on his face makes me want to drop the coffee and cupcake and throw myself at him.

The pouty grin on his lips is adorable, making my belly swoop, and when his hair falls in front of his eyes, I’m disappointed that my hands are full and I can’t push it back. As he does it himself, the black T-shirt he’s wearing stretches tight over his shoulders and strong arms.

Unable to catch the sigh that escapes me, I take a bite of the cupcake—it tastes exactly the way we make it with pudding and all the extras I add to make the box mix taste a bit more homemade.

“Did she boss you around too much?” I ask when I’ve washed down the slightly too-sweet frosting with some coffee.

“She’s no Jo.”

When I try to perch myself on the counter, he lifts me by my waist and sits me beside the plate of cupcakes.

The atmosphere around us heaves as he watches me eat the rest of the treat in silence. Once my coffee is drained too, he asks, “Want to help me with the horses?”

I focus on the way he doesn’t glance away while he waits for my answer. Everything about him is so striking. The sharp lines of his jaw that are softened by his pink lips and golden stubble. The depth of his stare that makes me want to free-fall into him.

Rhett slips his hands into his back pockets, making his shoulders jut out in a way that defines the already cut muscles beneath his T-shirt. That tangle of shiny blond hair falls in front of his eyes again, giving him a boyish appearance that makes it impossible for me to say anything other than “Sure.”

Biting down on his lip with his eyelids dropped, he comes closer. As though my answer was all the permission he’ll ever need, he parts my legs and stands between them.

My hands are sticky from the frosting, and when he laces his fingers with mine, it’s like we’re being glued together. And I love the feeling of it as much as the idea.

“You don’t have to.”

My heart is beating so damn fast that I can’t reply without sounding like an adolescent boy about to drop his balls.

Come on, Avery! Get it together, girl!

Inhaling a deep breath, I try to ignore the thrum of my pulse in my ears and the scorching heat throbbing on the apples of my cheeks.

“I want to.”

“Okay.” He smiles with a nod, and there is absolutely nothing I can do to stop myself from burying my face in his chest and inhaling all I can of him.

A sound escapes me—low and involuntary, and not entirely decent—and a white hot shiver rolls through me when his breath catches against the top of my head.

The horses are stunning. I’m completely mesmerized by the way their hide stretches taut over thoroughly worked muscle. Their movement is so graceful for such a bold and mighty creature.

It’s everything I love about nature. And everything I miss about my life in DC. I miss my job. It was one of the very few things that brought me joy. Yet, standing in the middle of the field—watching the horses graze in the bright orange glow of the morning sun—I feel almost at peace. Lost in the natural quiet of the ranch.

“You ever ride?”