Before I could even think to answer, he pushed into me, gently at first, and matched my own moan. It was louder than I’d intended, and I was suddenly aware that anyone could walk in and find us. But as he slid back out and pushed in again, harder, I knew I didn’t fucking care.

  ‘Harder,’ I whispered, wrapping my hands around his broad, muscled shoulders, giving myself more leverage to move with him.

  ‘Holy shit,’ he groaned as I ground myself against him, knowing that there was limited time before we’d make each other explode.

  I arched back, eyes closing. His mouth was on my nipple again, circling and sucking it with his tongue as he fucked me, harder and harder until I was biting my lip to stop myself from screaming out. It was pure feeling, my skin tingling wherever it touched his, the world narrowed to the space between us.

  Slowly, very deliberately, he moved up to my mouth, slowing as though he was about to come, the kiss deepening. It began to change somehow, gradually at first, then all at once. His hand wove into my hair and his cock thrust deeper, pushing me against the wall with a whole new intensity.

  Opening my eyes, I found myself looking straight into his. His expression mirrored how I felt, the realization of a shared feeling.

  He paused, eyes now studying my whole face.

  ‘How did I only just meet you?’ he asked, his voice suddenly rough, as though emotion had ripped the edges.

  For once, I had no idea what to say, too surprised by the way my own feelings seemed to wrap around his, wanting to comfort him somehow, or tell him how I’d never had an experience quite like this before, not even with Cal.

  Instead, I was saved by the other feelings that suddenly rose up as he pushed into me again, making me come so hard that I almost saw stars. His mouth covered mine, wrapping me in a gentle kiss as I moaned, hardening as it was followed by his own.

  I held onto him as he finished, my arms still circling his shoulders as I rested my head against his chest, eyes closed as I tried to catch my breath. We stayed there, just breathing against each other, one of his hands still in my hair, the other on my ass. He smelled incredible: a deep, warm, smoky scent.

  ‘That was . . .’ he began, breaking off as though realizing the next words might just take us into new territory, to somewhere I guessed neither of us was familiar with. I lifted my head as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

  His eyes blazed into mine, clearly deep in thought, as an unfamiliar but very definite jolt hit me square in the gut.

  ‘Yeah, it was,’ I whispered, wanting nothing more than to stay right here with him, and therefore knowing I had to leave immediately.

  Shit.

  CHAPTER 2

  HESTIA

  ‘So . . . when are you going to tell me what happened with you and Jesse last weekend?’ Lottie’s lips twitched as she came out onto the wraparound deck at the back of the ranch house, handing me a steaming coffee. She curled herself into the wide rocking chair opposite mine. ‘And don’t you dare bullshit me. Jesse’s been as smug as fuck but suspiciously quiet ever since, so I know for a fact you were making way more than snacks in there. And frankly, it’s even weirder that you won’t tell me all about it.’

  I hid behind my Ray-Bans, taking a sip to hide the expression that agreed with her. So instead, I took the tried and tested route – and deflected.

  ‘It was just a quick fumble,’ I replied, shaking my head as her mouth popped open. ‘Seriously, chill. Not everyone comes on holiday to Wyoming and meets the love of their life, okay? He’s hot, we were both horny, so we just . . . hooked up. That’s it. No drama. End of.’

  I knew I sounded defensive, and I kicked myself internally as Lottie let her mass of curls fall forward to cover her deepening smile. It was impossible not to soften at that, at knowing how well this woman knew me, unlike anyone else.

  ‘That sounds . . . great,’ she said, clearing her throat, clearly trying not to laugh. ‘Just what you needed, then.’

  ‘Exactly.’ I stared out across the incredible view, the soaring mountains ahead casting a long shadow over the green valley floor. This place was crushingly beautiful, and about as far from East London as I could’ve got. ‘I’m here for a break from the hellscape of home, from all of the bullshit with Cal. Any other activity, including screwing cowboys, is entirely recreational. Fuck yoga – getting hammered up against a wall is my kind of stress relief.’

  Lottie choked on her coffee, eventually recovering enough to laugh. I loved the sound of it, the way her whole face came to life.

  ‘I’ve missed you,’ she gasped, holding out her free hand to me. I took it, my inked skin and dark nails against the natural, unmarked beauty of hers. She smiled, likely noting the same thing. ‘You know it’s okay to like someone, though, right? I know it’s been a shitshow with Cal, but Jesse isn’t him.’

  I shrugged, hating just how aware I was of that, how the last moments of our kitchen encounter had replayed over and over in my mind.

  ‘Right. I just want to do my own thing right now, though, you know? Just me. Although I’ll always want you around.’ I winked at her, watching as her perceptive, all-too-wise gaze read my real thoughts, just as she always had.

  ‘Just as long as you know you don’t have to do it alone,’ she said, stroking a finger over the sharp tips of my nails. ‘I know that big old wall of yours has been up for a long fucking time, but you can share yourself with someone and still be independent. I swear it. Wouldn’t have believed it myself before coming here.’

  ‘You’re a walking Hallmark movie, Lottie Wright,’ I replied, lowering my glasses and smiling at her now sheepish expression. ‘And I am so fucking happy for you. That man is a sweetheart and almost as hot as you.’

  She raised her eyebrow, still smiling, knowing exactly what I was doing in ignoring the truth in her words. I knew they were true, but about as unreachable as me becoming a cowgirl and learning how to line dance. I groaned, remembering the event was tonight.

  ‘What?’ she said, letting me go in order to reach for her coffee again.

  ‘The line dance; I just remembered. I really can’t go in my normal clothes, can I?’ I glanced down at my black jeans and T-shirt, the fierce, masked face of the lead singer of my favourite metal band at odds with the sunny, raw wilderness spread out before us.

  Lottie considered it, then shook her head.

  ‘I’d lend you some of my stuff, but . . .’ She gestured to my ample chest. ‘Pretty sure it’d give a very different look.’ I groaned, now contemplating the idea of clothes shopping, not something I was into or good at. ‘Ask Bailey,’ Lottie suggested. ‘She might have something?’

  I thought of the perky, no-bull natural redhead. In the few conversations we’d had she’d projected an air of quiet confidence, someone driven in their ambition and not afraid to work for it. But there’d also been a tiny hint of something else. I smiled. Two birds with one stone – something to wear tonight and a new distraction, maybe even some . . . recreation.

  It was mid-afternoon before I got my shit together enough to wander down to the barn. What felt like a lifetime of working into the evenings at the studio and getting up late was deeply ingrained, and anything before 11 a.m. felt like a punch in the mouth. In reality it was only three years since Cal and I had quit uni a year early, both bored to hell with degrees we’d realized would never pay us back.

  I was still grateful to him, despite the dumpster fire our relationship had become, for believing in our ability to become the artists we’d slowly turned into, growing our client list into a waiting list. The money he’d inherited from his grandad had allowed us to rent the studio space and kick it all off, and somehow, three years had gone by in a fucking blur.

  And for what?

  The nasty, critical voice in my head that sounded a hell of a lot like my stepdad – the one I drank a little bit harder than I should’ve to blank out – was always there for moments like these. As I approached the vast, rust-red barn, watching dust flying from the corral opposite, I shoved it down and flicked my hair over one shoulder. The studio was doing fine without me for now; Cal and another talented artist we knew, Blake, were holding it down. No need to worry.

  Reaching the fence, I resisted leaning against it, knowing everything out here was covered in a fine film of dirt. It’d been an eye-opener to see Lottie in her element, totally unbothered by smudges on her cheeks, shovelling up horse shit and getting stuck into every aspect of ranch life. I couldn’t imagine how constricted and fake she must have felt back home, having to become someone so entirely different to her real self. Kyle may have been an utter bellend, but at least the situation had forced a change for her.

  ‘Oh hey, cowpoke!’

  Bailey’s voice rang out across the corral as she urged her horse, Dunkin, into a gallop right towards the fence, pulling up at the very last moment and sending a small shower of dirt towards me.

  ‘Jesus wept,’ I yelled, jumping back, not able to prevent my boots from being covered in it. ‘You pull that kind of shit with all your visitors?’

  Bailey cackled, looking back at the other woman in the ring on her horse, still practising turning around big, rusting barrels placed at intervals. She was clearly learning, taking wider loops than I’d seen Bailey do.

  ‘Only the ones I really like,’ she said, winking. ‘You want to try, honey? I reckon you’d be quite something on a horse.’

  I eyed her, speculating.

  ‘Fuck no, you’ve got the wrong Brit. Never ridden a horse in my life, genuine city girl and very happy to stay that way.’

  She tilted her head, eyes narrowed under the brim of her hat.

  ‘I call bullshit,’ she replied. ‘We’ll have you in the saddle before you leave, I know it.’

  ‘I’m gonna need an incentive,’ I added, giving her a sly smile, imitating her own accent, watching as she tried to hide a grin.

  ‘Hot damn, girl,’ she shook her head. ‘Lottie was right about you. Pure firecracker.’

  I knew it. There was a flicker of interest, just as I’d felt in her truck when she’d picked me up at the airport.

  ‘Well, this firecracker needs an outfit for the line dance this evening. Apparently “goth Barbie”, as Lottie loves to call me, isn’t going to cut it. Have you got anything that might work?’

  She considered me for a moment.

  ‘Maybe. I mean, you’re welcome to have a look in my closet, but honestly, I think we’re a different shape, honey. You’re all tits and hips, in the best way. If you want to get into town, I think Cole’s around somewhere, or Jesse? They’re both working on the cabin right now, but they’ll spare an hour or so, I’m sure. Pretty sure Lottie’s tied up with the guests today.’ She paused, seemingly weighing something up. ‘I’d give you a ride myself, but I need the rest of the afternoon with Darcy. The rodeo’s only another week away.’

  I nodded, conflicted about seeing Jesse again at close quarters, having only seen him at a distance since . . . the kitchen.

  ‘Maybe a ride another time?’ I said, hoping the suggestive undertone translated.

  Bailey smiled again.

  ‘Sure thing, cowpoke. Just so long as you know I’m focused on competing and all this.’ She gestured behind her to the corral, where Darcy was slowing, leaning down to pat her horse on the neck. ‘I’m not in the right place for anyone . . . no matter how tempted I am.’

  ‘Oh, I get it . . . more than you know,’ I added after a pause, not missing the flash of concern in her eyes as I took my sunglasses off my head and put them on, the bright sunlight threatening to give me a headache. ‘Okay – I’ll go find Cole. Does he know which shops to try?’

  Bailey just laughed, manoeuvring Dunkin backwards before turning towards Darcy, reeling off the names of a few shops to try in Jackson. I waved, steeling myself as I began the walk towards the cabin.

  ‘I hope Bailey warned you that all I’m good for is holding bags and driving?’ Cole offered as we arrived in Jackson, a half-smile on his lips. I totally saw it, why Lottie had fallen so hard; hard enough that it had scared her at first, something a long conversation one night after I arrived had revealed.

  ‘Just point out the shops and I promise I’ll be quick. I fucking hate shopping. Don’t suppose there are any that are a bit less . . . you know, mainstream?’

  He grinned as we pulled into a space just off the main square, somehow parking the giant truck with ease.

  ‘Well, most things here cater for the tourists,’ he admitted as we got out and started strolling down the street, weaving through them. They all had their phones out, taking photos of everything from the random archway made of what looked like giant deer antlers to the knife-edge peaks soaring behind the low-rise buildings and fir trees. ‘But there is a place some local ladies go. It’s not cheap, but it’s run by Deanna, and I reckon you and her might just get along.’

  I side-eyed him.

  ‘Dare I ask why?’

  He couldn’t hide a smile.

  ‘You’ll see,’ he said, eyes crinkling with mischief.

  A few minutes later, on the other side of the square, we entered the shop. The clothes were fairly standard western fare by the look of it. As I turned to Cole to say so, he was tipping his hat to a woman walking towards us from the back of the shop.

  ‘Oh hey, Cole, haven’t seen you for weeks. That new lady of yours keeping you busy up at the Diamond Back, huh?’

  The first thing I saw was her lip piercing, followed by a smoky-eye look, a cute, super-short fringe and shoulder-length black hair.

  ‘Something like that,’ he admitted, suddenly a little shy. ‘Dee, this is Hestia Hampton, Lottie’s best friend from England.’

  Her eyes widened, focusing immediately on my neck tattoo.

  ‘Oh hey,’ she breathed, holding out her hand to me, both of us smiling as we realized we were wearing very similar rings. ‘I love your look – omigod, is that a Sleep Token tee? I fucking love them!’

  Within moments we were deep in conversation, barely registering Cole’s laughter and a promise to wait outside until we were done.

  ‘I don’t know how anyone gets anything done up at Diamond Back with Cole and Jesse around,’ Dee admitted, taking a long, professional look at me before striding around the store and picking out various tops and jeans to try. ‘They’re not my usual type but . . .’ She held up a dark plaid shirt, nodding. ‘I’d make an exception.’

  ‘Tell me about it,’ I murmured, once again having to shake off the memory of Jesse holding me up against the wall, the way his fingers had smoothed over my skin and dipped into my underwear. Ugh. I had to stop torturing myself. ‘Oh – actually, I really like that.’

  I pointed to a tee that was somehow western but had some edge: a faded black colour, a human skull, pink flowers blooming from the eye sockets.

  ‘Really? That’s one of my designs,’ Dee said, blushing instantly at the praise.

  ‘Oh wow, I love it! You’re an artist?’ I asked, slightly disbelieving to have found someone like me here, deep in cowboy country.

  ‘Well, I guess . . . sort of.’ She shook her head. ‘I mean, running this place is my main income right now, but my real love is painting, drawing and –’ she gestured to my tattoos – ‘I definitely want more of those.’

  We talked as I tried things on, even managing to find some cowboy boots in my size that I could just about tolerate – black, obviously, with silver detailing on the stitching.

  ‘I can’t make it to the line dance tonight, but come hang out again? Maybe come meet some of my friends over at the Jackson Collective – there’s a whole bunch of creative people over there,’ Dee said as I paid up. ‘You’re not heading home too soon, I hope?’

  I shook my head, suddenly aware of how fast my time here was going – already over a week in. We said goodbye, and as I went outside, Cole grinned.

  ‘Told you,’ he said, taking my bags from me despite my protests. ‘So, we finally gonna see country Hestia?’

  The dancing had already kicked off by the time Lottie, Cole and I arrived. Third-wheeling wasn’t exactly the vibe I was going for, but given the alternative was to squash into Jesse’s truck with Bailey, I chickened out.

  ‘Oh man, Lil would’ve loved this,’ Lottie said as we went in, Cole’s arm wrapped territorially around her shoulder. ‘She’s an amazing dancer, right, Cole?’

  He nodded, giving her a look nothing short of pure adoration as he leant down and kissed her forehead. I’d yet to meet Lottie’s cousin, the owner of the Diamond Back, currently on a well-earned holiday in the UK. But from what I heard, she sounded fun.

  ‘What can I get for you ladies?’ he asked, looking over to me, his smile switching to an irritatingly satisfied expression at my new clothes.

  I couldn’t bring myself to get into blue jeans, but the new bootcut black Wranglers did things to the shape of my ass that even I couldn’t dispute. I was wearing Dee’s skull tee tucked in, and my new black boots. Lottie had lent me one of her new summer straw cowboy hats, decorated with a black leather band and various multicoloured beads and silver charms.

  ‘A beer, but only if you stop looking so damn smug,’ I replied, suddenly wondering why he’d glanced over my head.

  ‘Well hell, Cole, I think that’s the first time anyone’s accused you of that.’

  The sound of his voice alone made my stomach drop, but as I turned, I realized just how close he was behind me. Cole laughed, turning back to the bar to place his order.

  ‘Hey Jessica, how’s –’ He cut off, leaning back to look me up and down. ‘Fuuuck . . . Well now, don’t you look the country part.’

  The use of the nickname he’d given me in the kitchen . . . the temptation to launch straight into full flirt mode was overwhelming, but as Bailey joined the group and her friend Darcy too, I tried to restrain myself.

  ‘Not sure I qualify as Wednesday any more,’ I said, fighting to keep my face neutral as I turned back towards the bar, feeling the heat of his body as he leant into me from behind, his incredible smell and the feel of his hand on my lower back forcing my eyes shut for a moment.