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“Be gentle with Gianna, Penny. She’s a newbie,” she tells her, pressing a kiss on the side of her face.
“You two have fun; I’m going to nap,” she tells us before winking at me and leaving to head back to her truck. I’m pretty sure she only stopped by to give me this damn hat.
Colten steps forward, tipping my chin up. “You can wear my hat whenever you want, G. Don’t even have to ask. I’d kinda prefer it.”
“If I wear the hat, I have to ride the cowboy, isn’t that correct?”
The girls chat informed me of that.
He nods. “Hmm, mmm.”
I wrap my hands around his waist. “Or I could take your black Amex shopping again and buy myself one.”
“Does my wife's bank card no longer work in Arizona?”
I shake my head. “Oh, it works. I get a better thrill out of spending your money instead of my own.”
His tongue swipes his bottom lip. “Well then, looks like we’re going shopping later. You probably also need a truck to replace the Rolls?”
My mouth drops open. “No. Nothing can replace my baby. Nothing.”
He chuckles before dipping his head to give me a quick kiss.
“Although, I’ve had my eye on a 4x4 Aston Martin for a while; is that a good compromise?”
“Absolutely not. But whatever my wife needs, my wife gets. So, I say we go and buy one, but it has to be the true Aston color.”
I squeeze my thighs together. Colten is my dream man; there is no doubt about that.
“You think I’d dream of buying it in a different color? It has to be that green.”
“Atta girl.” He winks.
“Black leather inside, though,” I continue.
He nods, tipping his hat. “Yes, ma’am. Terrible choice for Arizona heat, but aesthetically, I see your point. Now stop stalling and get that fine ass of yours on the saddle.”
I step back and swallow as he hands me the reins.
“Left foot goes in there.” He points at the stirrup. “Push up with your right, lift the leg over and sit, baby. Easy as that.”
Blowing out a breath, I do as he says as gracefully as possible. And actually, it was kind of easy. Except now I’m sitting on a horse, with no clue what to do.
“Good girl. Now let your weight sink into your heels,” he tells me.
“And what the fuck does that mean? My weight is in my ass, isn’t it?”
He laughs. “You’re lucky I taught Wyatt how to ride.”
“I’m not a child,” I hiss.
But this would be a perfect lifestyle for a kid. If we ever have them, he’d absolutely love teaching them all this.
“Sit up straighter; imagine there's a line going from your ear to your shoulder and down to your feet.”
I adjust my position carefully, all while remembering to breathe.
He moves my feet in the stirrups and steps back, hands on his hips, assessing me.
