Page 56 of You Met Me There

“Is this a competition?” I murmur.

“No. Just observation.” She arches a brow in a teasing gesture.

Our chests brush as I inch even closer, the distance between us disintegrating. I keep my hands at my sides, but they itch to touch her, to slide against her smooth arms and thread into her hair.

I lean down, my lips just centimeters from hers. She gasps, staring up at me. “I’m so extremely affected by you, Natalie, you couldn’t even begin to imagine the things I wish we had the time to do right now,” I say. “It would make you blush crimson, and you’d forget all about the horses. You’d probably even forget your own name.”

Her jaw tightens, and her throat moves as she swallows. Big blue eyes look up at mine, but I don’t reach out for her. She opens her mouth but decides against saying anything. I think she’s stunned into silence, which is exactly what I was hoping for.

“Well,” I say, turning away to grab the keys and my wallet. “We should get going.”

As I reach the front door, I look back to see Natalie frozen in place, her brows creased and a confused expression settling across her face. I smile, happy to have stupefied her.

I told her I’d remind her of what we used to be. My mind and body have never forgotten, and I’m convinced hers haven’t either. But if I have to play hardball to make her see what we have between us is real and undying, then I’ll do whatever it takes. Our love once burned like an endless fire, consuming me in every way imaginable. I’d die for her, and now I’m thinking I’d do even more than that to keep her safe and happy and mine.

If she wants kids, I’m almost ready to just give her all the babies she wants. The spark in her eyes is enough to set me ablaze again, and I turn away, hearing the clack of her boots on the wood as she follows behind.

I take in the view of white fences lining the road and endless fields of green on either side of us as I drive the Suburban up the gravel path to the stables. Hills roll like seas to my right, where horses graze in the distance. We’ve driven out of the magical woods of Maple Lake and have landed in an equestrian paradise.

Dust follows us as the wheels stir up clouds of dirt, and I don’t slow the vehicle until we arrive at a big red barn with white trim. A mile back, we passed under a metal arch that said One Creek Ranch. The same name hangs on a wooden sign above the sliding double doors of the barn.

Other cars line the fence to the left of the barn, so I follow suit and park at the end of the row.

“This is it,” I say, leaning over to peer out Natalie’s window.

Although she’s been grinning the entire drive here, somehow her smile still grows exponentially. My stomach does a little victory dance at the sight of her. There’s nothing I like better than spoiling my woman and seeing her happy.

“Come on,” she says, unbuckling and opening her door. “Let’s go see the horses.”

She hops out of the car and doesn’t look back to make sure I’m following before practically skipping to the barn in her pink boots. The front doors sit open, so we step right inside. At the other end of the barn, the back doors are also open, and the space glows with natural light from both ends. Horses whinny in their stalls, and the scent of hay and manure send me back to memories I’d long forgotten. Natalie approaches a dappled gray horse whose head hangs out over the stall door.

“Look, Luke! He’s beautiful.” She runs her fingers along the ridge of his muzzle, and he huffs at her. She jumps back. “Oh, maybe he doesn’t like that.”

I step up beside her. “No, he does. That’s his way of telling you it feels nice. It’s like a sigh. Like he’s content.”

“Oh,” she says. I feel her watching me as I run my palm along the length of his gray muzzle and over the soft hairs of his nose. He leans into my hand, gently blowing warm air across my face.

“Now you try it again.” I take Nat’s hand and gently press it against the hard ridges of the horse’s muzzle. She lets me guide her, running her hand down his face the same way I did.

She drops her hand, and the horse nudges his face against her shoulder. She looks at me with a questioning expression of smiling lips and wide eyes. “Does he want me to keep petting him?”

“It looks like it. Just don’t put your fingers too close to his mouth. I’m going to look for someone who can tell us where to meet for the trail ride.”

I walk the center aisle of the barn, passing six stalls on each side. Some hold horses, while others sit empty. When I step out the back of the barn, I spot a few people standing around a paddock. Several horses stand inside the fenced area, already saddled for a ride.

My hiking boots—the only sturdy shoes I brought with me to Maple Lake besides sneakers—crunch against the stones with each step. When I reach the paddock, I scan the area for someone who looks like they know what they’re doing. Almost instantly, I spot a young girl—in her early twenties or maybe even late teens—checking the saddle straps on a yellow mare.

I make my way over to her. “Excuse me,” I say. “Are you the trail guide?”

She looks up from her task, her long black braids swinging over her shoulders. She wears worn jeans and scuffed boots, and her blue riding polo has the name of the ranch along the hem of the sleeve.

“Yes, I’m Maggie. Are you Luke?”

I nod. “That’s me. And my wife, Natalie, is here too.” I point toward the barn, where Natalie has just emerged. Her smile hasn’t diminished one bit.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Maggie says. “You’re the last two to be joining us.”

Natalie steps up and introduces herself, and then our guide calls out to the other three people meandering nearby. Shortly after, we’re all gathered around to hear the instructions.