Page 22 of Riding Into Love
“There you are, Thurston. I’ve been looking for you.”
I hold my arms out wide and gesture to the empty space around me. “Here I am.”
Colby steps inside the stall and crosses his arms over his chest, looking every bit the intimidating cowboy I’ve grown to crave. “You busy? I need a hand fixing a fence down by the pond.”
Of course, out of all the ranch hands on this property, he wants me to help him. I should probably call him out, tell him I see right past this ploy to get me alone, but the words don’t come. Instead, I just ask, “Right now?”
“Yeah, right now. It’s gonna be dark soon. Best to get it done.”
“All right.”
I follow Colby out of the barn and over to the four-wheeler. Once I climb on behind him, I place my hands on my knees as if I don’t realize I’m going to have to put my arms around him at home point if I don’t want to fly off this thing.
“Ready?” he asks, glancing over his shoulder.
I nod, and Colby revs the engine, taking off like a bat out of hell. The force throws me backward, and I have to grab his jacket just to keep from falling off.
He turns his head to look at me, and the smirk on his face is downright sinful. I’d like to smack him right now, but that would require me to let go of his coat, and given how fast he’s driving, that’s not happening.
“Hold on tight, River. Wouldn’t want you to fall.”
“Shut up and drive, Burke.”
He laughs but then turns his attention back to the trail in front of us. The terrain is rocky, and the wheel-e is bouncing over every bump, making it difficult for me to hang on, so like it or not, I have to cozy right on up to him.
My hands slip around his front, and I can feel the hard, rippled muscles of his stomach through his shirt. They contract as I slide my hands lower, and when they reach the top of his pants, Colby sucks in a breath.
I smirk. Take that, cowboy.
The sun has all but set by the time we reach the far edge of the pond. As soon as the ATV stops, I climb off and brush myself off.
“This the place?” I ask, looking over the fence.
“Yep. Come on. The fence is down a ways.”
We walk the length of the fence, and when we come across a downed tree and a pile of barbed wire, Colby stops.
“Here we go. Gather the wires, and I’ll get the fence stretcher off the back of the ATV.”
“You got it, boss.”
As he walks off, I pick up the barbed wire and toss it to the side and then move to the downed tree. It’s a large oak, and I doubt I’ll be able to move it, but I’m going to give it my best shot.
“Let me,” Colby says, jogging over and putting his hand on the trunk. “You start stacking the fence poles, and I’ll take care of this.”
I roll my eyes but do as he asks. If he wants to be macho and carry the damn tree, I’ll let him.
While Colby lifts the tree, grunting as he does, I gather the wooden fence posts and lay them in the proper spot. I’ve just got the last one laid out when a deafening crack sounds above me, making me jump out of my skin. I look up to see a flash of light, followed by another thunderous boom.
“Shit,” Colby mutters, dropping the tree. “That’s a bad one.”
That’s the thing about the mountains. These storms can sneak up on the other side of the range and be on top of you before you realize what’s happening. Another loud crack sounds above us, and I instinctively duck.
“Come on,” he tells me. “There’s an old shack just over the rise. We can wait out the storm there.”
Colby grabs the stretcher and starts running, and I’m right on his heels. Rain starts pouring down, soaking us to the bone. It pelts my face and obscures my vision. The wind whips the wet strands of my hair into a frenzy, and I’m thankful for the wide-brimmed hat on my head.
We crest the hill, and a small shack comes into view. Colby runs ahead, and I follow, nearly slipping on the wet ground. He’s waiting at the door with the latch lifted, and as soon as I’m through, he follows me and closes it behind him.
