Just over two hours later, Dee’s arm wrapped and admired as I met a whole host of fellow artists, she wrapped me in a careful hug.

  ‘I fucking love it,’ she breathed, helping me to clean up. ‘Do you want to borrow the machine and the rest of the kit while you’re here? It’s a spare anyway. Just in case you feel . . . inspired up there at the Diamond Back.’

  I laughed, thanking her, and agreed to take care of it.

  ‘Want to come look at all the other stuff? There’s something I want to show you in particular as well,’ she enthused, glancing down at the new part of her sleeve and grinning again.

  Her natural enthusiasm was catching; I’d almost forgotten the satisfaction of seeing a client as in love with my creation as I was with the process of doing it.

  ‘Show me everything,’ I agreed, linking arms with her and carrying the kit in a bag on my shoulder. ‘Are those belt buckles over there?’

  We reviewed a whole selection of buckles – not something I’d ever imagined being interested in. But learning from Dee what they meant and assessing the metals, from silver to brass and steel, and designs from bucking broncs to one particularly beautiful cow’s skull, I found myself choosing two: the skull, not dissimilar to my tattoo design for Dee, and a turquoise-studded silver one that I could picture with my black Wranglers.

  ‘Okay, now – this is what I really wanted to show you,’ Dee said, barely suppressing a squeal as we reached one of the largest stands, already crowded with other customers. There were endless cowboy hats of almost every colour and shape on racks, with four people at benches in front, customizing them. ‘These guys are going to be supplying my shop soon – I’m branching into offering hat customization for bachelorette parties and girls’ weekends. We get so many weddings now in Jackson.’ She stopped, catching the eye of one of the women serving, waving and pointing at me. ‘I, um . . . well, as a little thank-you for this and the other T-shirt design, I kind of had one made up for you.’

  Taken aback, I watched as the woman brought over a large box, greeting Dee and offering it up to me.

  ‘Are you sure?’ I asked, my eyes flickering over the slightly intimidating price tags on the hats nearest to us. ‘This is really generous . . .’

  As Dee lifted the lid, allowing me to pull it out, my mouth fell open. It was jet black with a braided black leather band around the crown, and a silver skull and a turquoise ‘H’ charm woven into the ends of the braid.

  ‘Oh my God, Dee,’ I blurted eventually, putting my bag down, desperate to try it on. ‘Oh wow, it fits perfectly.’

  I turned to her and the woman, both nodding.

  ‘I knew it,’ Dee said, grinning. ‘Got a knack for guessing sizes. And obviously the black looks awesome against your hair.’

  ‘I fucking love it,’ I said, grinning right back and pulling Dee into a hug, mindful of her arm. ‘It’s so thoughtful of you.’

  ‘I really don’t want you to go,’ she murmured into my shoulder before we pulled apart. ‘I was hoping I could bribe you to stay.’

  It wasn’t until much later in the day, back at the ranch and freshly showered, that I began to dwell on her words. What the ranch had come to mean, the growing depth of my attachment to it – let alone the people. The thought of wearing my new hat at home, in London, felt entirely alien. But the strangest part about it wasn’t the hat – that felt comfortable in every sense. It was the thought of the city, my life there, that felt . . . off.

  My stay was open-ended right now, but I knew that hovering in the distance was a moment when I’d have to make the call to go home. Luci was recovering beautifully, even being borderline pleasant to Bailey as well as to me; she might well become a useful asset to the ranch. My tourist visa was ultimately the deciding factor, given I didn’t have Lottie’s flexibility with dual citizenship.

  In my bathrobe, I slipped into the kitchen, suspecting tonight would be a quiet one – likely a movie in bed and an early night. Lottie was exhausted. The cabins were booked solid for another few weeks through to mid-September, and even with a full staff it was all hands on deck.

  As I grabbed a bottle of beer from the fridge, the side door opened, and Jesse came in from the dimming twilight outside.

  ‘Oh, hey,’ I said, giving him a smile and resisting a sudden self-conscious urge to hide my make-up-free face, my wet hair slicked back from it.

  With a quick check down the hall to the rest of the house beyond, he strode across the kitchen and without a word, gently took my face in his hand, kissing me.

  Only just remembering to hold onto the bottle, the fridge door hanging open, I felt myself dissolve into him. His mouth was soft against mine, his movements gentle, but the urgency behind his kiss . . . the force I always felt around him, pulled tighter than ever.

  ‘Hey,’ he replied as we parted, his voice rough as he held my gaze. ‘I’ve been waiting for that all day.’

  I closed my eyes, resting my forehead against his for a moment, feeling the now familiar sensation of wanting more – to stay next to him, safe against his body – warring with my recent thoughts of what it would mean to say goodbye.

  I swallowed, hard.

  ‘I’ve got something for you,’ I murmured instead, forcing myself back. ‘You want a drink?’

  I gestured to the bottle, not missing the slight puckering of his brow as he made his way to the sink and began washing his hands, the foam from the soap turning black as he scrubbed.

  ‘Sure,’ he replied. ‘You all good?’

  I nodded, beckoning him to follow me as he finished up, taking another bottle and leading him back down the hall to my room. Bailey was out tonight, Lottie and Cole already crashed out in his room.

  He followed, crossing the threshold slowly, eyes not leaving me as I closed the door behind us. Grabbing the two items I’d bought for him off the bed, as our eyes met again, I was suddenly aware this was the first time we’d been alone in a bedroom together.

  ‘I got you something,’ I said, careful to keep an arm’s length between us, just for now. ‘Well, two things.’

  ‘Okaaay,’ he replied, smiling as I handed over a small paper bag and a gift bag. Then, with a glance to my bathrobe, he added, ‘I’ve got something for you, too.’

  He delved into the paper bag, drawing out a small brown bottle and squinting at the label.

  ‘Arnica oil,’ I said softly, daring to step closer, running a hand over his left shoulder. His eyes shot to my face at the touch, flaring. ‘I’ve seen you wincing a little, am I right? Guessing you hurt it last weekend?’

  He said nothing for a moment, studying me.

  ‘You got this for me?’

  I rolled my eyes.

  ‘I don’t know anyone else stupid enough to get thrown around on a wild, three-thousand-pound animal and do fuck knows what to their body,’ I retorted, unable to hold back from returning his smile in response. ‘You put a few drops in the bath. It’ll help your bruising heal, tone down the aching.’

  ‘Your bath?’ he asked, stepping into the remaining space between us, forcing me to tilt my head right back to maintain eye contact.

  ‘If you like,’ I breathed, feeling my body respond, suddenly desperate for him to remove my robe, his clothes.

  He made a rumbling sound in his throat as he reached into the gift bag, pulling out a small, tissue-wrapped object.

  ‘And what’s this?’

  I shrugged as he unwrapped it.

  ‘I’m new to this whole buckle bunny business,’ I murmured as the metal inside glinted in the low lights of the bedroom. ‘But I thought of you when I saw it . . . and me. Well, us.’

  The tissue fell to the floor as he freed the skull belt buckle. He turned it over for a moment, running his thumb over the skull as he looked back at me. His eyes had become molten, just as they had been in the truck.

  ‘You thought of us?’ he asked slowly, softly, as though afraid saying the words again might render them to dust.

  I nodded, too afraid to say more, knowing with every cell that he was feeling the same as I was in that moment. He leant down slightly, his lips coming to brush mine.

  ‘I fucking love it,’ he whispered, his tongue tracing my lower lip as my mouth opened to him. ‘I don’t know what I did to deserve it, but it’s beautiful. Thank you, Jessica.’

  We fell into another kiss, fuelled by my insistence this time, pulling him to me and letting the feelings wash over the thoughts and doubts that whirled in my head. As I scraped my nails over his existing belt buckle, threatening to take it off, he smiled.

  ‘Hold up there,’ he breathed, circling my waist and moving us back onto the bed, letting me fall back, holding himself over me. ‘I said I had something for you before the belt comes off.’

  On the verge of grabbing him and forcing him back into our kiss, instead I inhaled as he gently undid the tie on my robe and opened it out, running his fingers over my breasts and down, not stopping until they slipped between my thighs and I gasped again.

  ‘Oh fuck, honey,’ he moaned, feeling just how wet I’d become.

  ‘What something do you have for me?’ I asked breathlessly, barely able to breathe as he began to circle his fingers there.

  ‘The promise I made in the truck,’ he whispered, leaning down to kiss my jaw. I arched my neck to his touch as his fingers slid into me.

  ‘Oh, holy shit . . .’ I moaned, unable to help myself as he made his way down my body, pausing at my breasts. ‘Get your clothes off, now.’

  He chuckled, making slow, painfully wonderful small circles with his fingers inside me.

  ‘Not yet, sweetheart.’

  And slowly, using one arm to hold me down, his mouth reached my hips, nipping and kissing the skin as he worked across, joining his fingers with his tongue.

  In less than a minute I was barely in control, coming hard as he fucked me with his hand, giving me only another minute to pause, stroking the inside of my thigh as I tried to breathe before he began again. Ignoring my half-hearted protest and insistence on being fucked properly, this time he just used his mouth. So gentle at first, growing more insistent as I felt myself building up again.

  ‘I want you,’ I murmured, running my fingers through his hair.

  But he ignored me, instead using his tongue inside me until I came again, only partly stifling a cry with my arm over my face.

  ‘Now,’ he murmured, the sound of his belt buckle finally opening, the zip following. I watched, eyes half-closed, as he took off his shirt, his jeans and boxers dropping together as he shrugged everything off. ‘I’m willing to wait to use this,’ he said, gripping his cock. ‘So if you’ve had enough, or it’s too much . . .’

  ‘Don’t you dare go anywhere,’ I breathed, my core muscles having long melted into the bed, preventing me from sitting up to reach it myself. ‘Now fuck me properly.’

  His eyes wild, he leant back over me, using his hands to turn me gently until I was on my front, pulling my hips back up towards him.

  ‘Don’t be gentle,’ I hissed as he teased the end of his cock against me, wanting him, needing him to . . .

  I gasped as he entered me, no hint of gentle touch. He slammed against me and I cried out with him, impatiently waiting for him to do it again, and again, and again.

  ‘I don’t know if I’ll ever have the patience to fuck you slowly,’ he moaned as I stifled a cry again, his movements becoming rougher, his fingers inching forward to stroke me around his cock.

  ‘Jesse,’ I moaned, only half aware of what I was saying. ‘Don’t ever stop – I only want you.’

  He came in the same moment, the sensation of his cock pumping into me as he finished. We collapsed together, just breathing into the cotton sheets as I tried to piece my thoughts back together.

  ‘Did you mean that?’ he murmured a minute later, turning his head towards me, the skin above his cheekbones flushed.

  I knew what he meant; I could still feel the truth of it etched into every pore of my skin. But now, in the quiet calm, it took on new meaning.

  I nodded, just holding his gaze as he moved closer to my face, his lips now brushing mine with such care, such a worshipful touch, that I was suddenly terrified of what he might say.

  ‘Want me to run us a bath?’ I said, jumping in before he could say anything else. At his raised eyebrow, I added, ‘I could fuck you all day, cowboy, but even I need a break in between.’

  He chuckled, nodding.

  I half expected the bath to turn into an action replay, but instead it felt . . . relaxing. He told me about his day and I reciprocated, lying back against him, my head resting on his shoulder.

  ‘What’s your real hair colour?’ he asked suddenly, continuing to twirl strands of it.

  I laughed at the realization.

  ‘Actually, it’s not dissimilar to your hair colour,’ I said, turning back to see his face. ‘A kind of dark, dirty blonde.’

  ‘The best kind,’ he murmured, running a finger over my chest, around the outline of the headless horseman. ‘And I still haven’t had a full tat tour,’ he noted. ‘The first time I see you fully naked, and I don’t know what half of it means.’

  I laughed, gripping the sides of the bath and slowly standing in front of him, watching as his expression became hungry again.

  ‘There’s too many . . .’ I said, slowly turning, shivering as his hands reached up to hold my hips, running down my legs, eyes everywhere – from my ass to the viper that wound around the back of my left thigh, circling down to my calf.

  Looking back to him, I stilled. He said nothing, hands still on my lower legs, but his expression screamed everything I knew I felt too.

  ‘Would you do one for me?’ he asked suddenly, his eyes on my wrist, the white Norse compass on the inside. ‘I’ve got an idea.’

  Barely half an hour later, the small desk in the corner of the room pulled out, my borrowed kit cleaned and prepped, we sat opposite each other.

  ‘So you don’t mind me free-handing this? I can stencil it?’ I offered, eyebrows raised as he shook his head, offering his upturned arm on the desk.

  ‘I trust you, Jessica. Besides, I’ve stalked you online. I know how good you are.’

  I couldn’t help laughing, his sheepish expression giving way to a beautiful smile.

  ‘Okay . . . well, I’ll do my best. But you’re going to need to hold completely still for this, and I’ll warn you, the inner wrist gets fucking sore. I’ll go as quick as I can.’

  He nodded briefly, watching as I reached for my gloves.

  ‘It’s so painful that I actually think you might need some help,’ I added, unable to deny myself the amusement, justifying that it might actually work . . . kind of.

  So as I shrugged my robe off my shoulders, letting it fall to my waist, he barely noticed as I gently took his wrist and, prepping the ink, got to work.

  He simply stared for a moment, his eyes, his whole attention entirely focused on my breasts.

  ‘What are you trying to do to me?’ he asked hoarsely as I followed the faint outline of the pen I’d used to give a rough idea of the design just minutes ago.

  ‘Distract you,’ I replied softly, concentrating just as resolutely. ‘Never done it half-naked before, might check with Lottie, see if it could be a new marketing tactic.’

  He barely laughed, still too fixed on me to respond properly.

  ‘So why this design, why here?’ I asked, shifting my grip slightly, taking the next bit a little more slowly, all too aware of the increased margin for error. The design he’d requested – the same cow’s skull as the design on my T-shirt, wreathed in flames – was small, but not without a fair bit of detail.

  He shifted his gaze to my face, then to the emerging design on his skin.

  ‘I wanted something of you,’ he said simply, holding my eyes in his as I stopped, looking up. ‘Your skull design and . . . your flames. And right here, on my wrist . . . I want to see it. Every day. I want the reminder of you . . . if you’re not here.’

  A lump gathered in my throat as I forced myself back to work, not daring to say another word as I continued.

  Eventually the quiet between us settled, just as it had in the bath. I’d finished within the hour, allowing myself to smile as I triple checked it, setting aside the machine so I could wrap it gently.

  ‘Do you like it?’ I asked, strangely nervous as he held it out.

  We were both standing, me still naked. He didn’t answer until he reached me, his right arm circling my waist.

  ‘I love it,’ he murmured, kissing my nose first, finding my mouth moments later.

  ‘Don’t go,’ I whispered as he drew back, aware that it was late, with another full day ahead in not many hours. ‘Stay here, with me.’

  He did. And with creeping exhaustion, curled around each other, I watched as he finally fell asleep. I waited a few moments, eyes heavy in the darkness, as his breathing softened, his hands still on my skin. When I kissed him softly on the forehead, he didn’t stir.

  ‘Jesse,’ I whispered, tears instantly springing forward, falling onto the pillow as I closed my eyes, ‘I think . . . I’m in love with you.’

  CHAPTER 14

  HESTIA

  As life sped up over the next couple of weeks, I was both grateful and . . . lost.

  Cole was busy off the ranch, his brother’s wedding rapidly approaching. Jesse picked up his slack, taking over more work than ever. In turn, I offered to step in, taking his morning round feeding and prepping the horses as well as sorting and cleaning tack for the day.

  I could see how touched he was by my offer. Initially he tried to resist, knowing how I loathed mornings, but ultimately he was too tired to refuse.

  So, my head won over my heart. I made myself as busy as everyone else, giving myself the extra distance from him – from all of them – that I needed.

  Because I couldn’t begin to process how I now knew I felt – the words that’d scared me so fucking shitless when I’d said them aloud that I’d struggled to sleep since. Only the fact that he hadn’t heard me, crashed out and blissfully unaware, was keeping everything together. It was contained, and all I needed to do was stamp it the fuck back down and bury it.