Page 82 of Saltwater Cowboy

He smirked. “And yet, you’re still on the horse. Look at you.”

I exhaled, shaking my head as my pulse finally started to settle. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

I groaned, rubbing a hand down my face. “Fine. I mildly dislike you.”

He chuckled. “Come on, city girl. One more lap, and then we’ll call it a night.”

I looked at Bandit. He looked at me.

“Alright,” I muttered, shifting in the saddle. “But if I die, I’m haunting this farm.”

Wells just grinned. “Wouldn’t expect anything less.”

I had survived one lap.

Barely.

And now, apparently, I was doing another.

Wells was still standing by the fence, looking all too pleased with himself, like this was the best entertainment he’d had in years.

I shot him a glare. “I swear, if I make it out of this alive, I’m making you do something equally terrifying. Like, I don’t know… yoga.”

He smirked. “You think horse riding is terrifying?”

I motioned dramatically to myself. “I am atop a moving animal with no seatbelt. If I was meant to be this high up, I’d have wings.”

Wells just chuckled. “You’re doing fine. Loosen up a little. You’re stiff as a board.”

“My life might’ve gone to shit, but I still value my existence,” I snapped, still gripping the reins like I was bracing for impact.

Bandit, completely unaffected by my panic, let out a lazy huff, like this lady is exhausting, and took another step forward.

I yelped and immediately tensed again.

Wells pinched the bridge of his nose, laughing under his breath. “Okay, let’s try this—just hold the reins steady, sit up straight, and—”

At that exact moment, Bandit decided to scratch his side.

By violently shaking his entire body.

I screamed. I flailed. I grabbed onto anything within reach, which turned out to be Wells’ shirt, because in my blind panic, I had somehow yanked him forward over the fence.

Next thing I knew, he was halfway over the rail, clutching at my leg to stop himself from face-planting into the dirt.

“Wells!” I shrieked.

“Rose!” he shot back, one hand gripping the saddle, the other fisting the front of my jeans. “If you pull me further over this fence, I’m making Bandit gallop just to watch you suffer.”

“Don’t you dare!”

Bandit, the only reasonable one here, finally stopped shaking, standing perfectly still like nothing had happened.

I stared at him. He stared at me.

Then he lost it.