Page 65 of Trigger Happy

Fuck.

“Sabrina?” Arch asks, head tilted. “Who’s that?”

Bobbi and Arch share a look I can’t read. Silence hangs between us, and I try to think up an excuse, but my mind is blank. Thankfully, Sabrina interjects.

“It’s my first name, but I go by my middle. Sabrina Sofia Davis. Only Luke calls me that, and honestly, it sounds weird coming from anyone else.” She quickly changes the subject. “Anyway, why don’t we all head back to the stables? I could go for a mimosa after that near-death experience.”

Bobbi’s face brightens. “What about a screwdriver? You look like you need something stronger, and I have this amazing recipe from Mimi’s Mimosas and Brews. She puts dried lavender in her screwdrivers. You’ll fall in love.”

“Who can say no to a lavender screwdriver?” she says.

Bobbi and Arch climb back on their horses and head back out in the fields, but I’m still wound up.

Sabrina stares up at Dragon with a rigid jaw. “Do you think Uber has horse trailers out here? I really don’t want to ride back.”

I actually snort. All right, she’s joking. It’s fine. Nothing bad happened. I blow out a breath and the anger fades. It’s not gone, but it’s better.

I pat Mudflapper’s coat, sheening with sweat. “You want to ride with me? I can lead Dragon back by the reins.”

“Are you going to hold this over me forever? Use it as blackmail?”

“I’m not going to blackmail you.”

“Right. Until the day you need a favor and say, Remember when I saved your ass on a horse?”

“That’s your impression of me?” I say, crossing my arms. “I don’t sound like a giant who chews buildings for fun.”

“I’m just saying, I know favors from you usually come with strings or, like, steel cables.”

I don’t like her thinking that, and she needs to know I’m done with our tit-for-tat bullshit. I might’ve hated her before, but I’m tired, of grieving, of fighting, tired of it all. “Well, that one didn’t. Consider it cable-free. You don’t owe me a damn thing.”

She chews her bottom lip but eventually sighs. “Okay. I guess I can live with that.”

Live with that. I roll my eyes. Only Sabrina. I hoist her up onto Mudflapper, but when I climb up behind her and bracket her thighs with mine, I realize I didn’t think this through. Saddles are small. And the things she’s doing to my body?

Not small.

As we ride, I try to picture the exact slurping noise the pigs make when they rip through flesh, anything to stop my body from reacting to how close she is, how warm, how it would feel to—

Pigs, I remind myself.

When Bobbi and Arch are a good thirty feet ahead of us, I whisper in her ear, “That was some quick thinking on your part with the name.”

“You can thank my backup plans for that one,” she says, hips grinding as the horse rocks beneath us. I should have worn compression briefs, not boxers.

After a minute, she clears her throat. “And thanks.”

“For saving you from a runaway horse?”

“Well, yes, but no…”

“For being irresistibly charming?”

“Definitely not. Irresistibly insufferable, maybe,” she says, but I don’t need to look at her to know she’s grinning. “Thanks for standing up for me. I usually have to look out for myself. Hence all the backup plans. I like being prepared for every worst-case scenario.”

My chest lights up, and I would normally give her hell for using the word “hence,” but instead, I tighten my arms around her waist. She relaxes, just a bit, but enough for me to notice.

“You don’t need to out-plan the future with me. I’ve got your back, Chastain. We’re reluctant allies, remember?”