Page 26 of Don't Burn Bridges
Neither of them moved at first. Then he stepped forward, one measured pace, closing the distance between them.
She didn’t retreat.
His fingers skimmed lightly against her neck, enough to make her feel it. Enough to ask permission.
Her answer came in the way she tilted her face up to his, the soft parting of her lips, and how her breath met his in the silence.
Their mouths came together in a rush of heat and hunger, as if they’d waited their entire lives for this moment. It wasn’t soft or sweet. It was a claiming—slow and deliberate at first, then deeper, more desperate. Their tongues moved in a sensual rhythm, chasing and retreating, teasing and exploring in a dance that left her breathless.
She moaned softly into his mouth as he pivoted them and backed her up against a fence post, with the solid wall of his body against hers, heat radiating through every layer of clothing between them. His thorough, confident, and intoxicating kiss made her ache in places she hadn’t known were starved for touch.
He tasted of coffee, spice, and something uniquely Seth. Her hands slid up his chest of their own accord, fingers curling into the soft cotton of his shirt as she surrendered to the fire he’d lit inside her.
When he pressed closer, she felt his unmistakable hard cock against her lower abdomen. The sensation sent molten lava through her veins, her breath hitching as her nipples hardened beneath her shirt, straining with sudden, undeniable want.
Their bodies aligned as if they’d always meant to fit that way. The unhurried kiss turned hotter, more demanding, and yet still reverent—as if he wanted to savor every second.
And she did too.
He eased back enough to look at her, their rapid breaths mingling, their bodies still close.
“Wow,” he murmured, voice low and a little husky.
Shylo gave a shaky laugh, her lips curving. “Yeah... wow.”
He leaned in again, his gaze flicking back to her mouth, when the sharp buzz of his phone shattered the moment. Muttering something under his breath, he pulled it from his back pocket and glanced at the screen.
“Sorry, I’ve got to take this.” He took a step back before answering. “Hey, what’s up?”
Shylo couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation, but she watched his expression shift—first to concern, then resignation.
“Yeah... okay. Did you try—okay. Yeah, I’ll head that way now. Be there soon.”
He ended the call and slid the phone back into his pocket with a sigh. For a moment, he stared at her, as if he hadn’t quite let go of where they’d been seconds ago. Then he stepped closer, lifting a hand to stroke her cheek gently. “We're definitely finishing that kiss later, though.”
The promise in his voice stirred her desire.
“But that was Paige.” His hand dropped to his side. “A toilet is overflowing. She tried the plunger, but it didn’t help. Shane’s two towns away with a client, and Tuck is working in the east pasture. And I’m still on the clock. Sorry.”
“No worries.” Shylo followed him back toward the stream, where they'd crossed earlier. The kiss still lingered in her mind, and though she was disappointed it had ended, she understood his work came first. “Do we need to hurry?”
He shook his head. “She shut off the water, so it’s under control for now. We’ll head back as slowly as before. I won’t put you through a trot or run... yet. You’ll need some more lessons before that happens.”
As they walked back to the horses, Shylo couldn’t help but glance over her shoulder at the glade behind them—already missing the moment that had sparked to life there and wondering when or if it might happen again.
Chapter 13
After he helped Shylo dismount, Seth guided Maple and Daisy into the barn, the late afternoon sun spilling through the open doors in slanted golden beams. Though it was only four, the worst of the heat had passed, leaving the afternoon far more pleasant.
He spotted Jamie brushing down a gelding near the tack room and called out, “You mind grabbing these two? They both need a brush-down. I gotta fix a toilet in the house.”
“Got it.” Jamie nodded as he stepped forward. He took the reins without question, and Seth gave both horses a quick pat before turning toward the house with Shylo. At the back door, they both cleaned their boots on a wrought-iron scraper, brushing off the dust and grit from the trail.
In the kitchen, the scent of something rich and tantalizing—Mya’s famous slow-cooked brisket, if he wasn’t mistaken—filled the room and made his stomach rumble.
He’d just closed the door when Paige entered the kitchen from the hallway. “Hi, Shylo. Nice to see you again.” She set an empty teacup in the sink. “You’re not working at Lou’s tonight?”
“Uh... no. I’m off on Sundays and Wednesdays.”
