Page 19

The house felt too quiet. Claire would come through the door eventually, and Delaney still didn’t know what to say to the woman who had taught her to ride like that.

And then there was the other thing.

She couldn’t stop thinking about the way Claire’s hand had landed on her thigh right after, steady through her jeans.

Or the barn two nights ago, or the bathroom upstairs where Claire had knelt between her knees with those fingers on her bare skin.

Even out in the pasture today, with crew members moving gear between takes, every time Delaney caught Claire watching her over the horses, her skin prickled like those fingers were still on her.

Delaney took another sip from the tumbler, the local whiskey burning smooth down her throat. She’d opened the gift basket from the Feed & Tack in Juniper Falls this afternoon, the one stuffed with jam and chocolate and this very bottle. Liquid courage. She needed it tonight. Anything to take the edge off the sharp, ridiculous heat lingering under her skin before Claire walked through that door.

A few minutes later, the door creaked open. Boots hit the floor, one then the other. Delaney’s pulse kicked up. She set the script pages down, the ones she’d been trying to read for the last twenty minutes.

The kitchen lights cast everything in warm yellow, the floor creaking in that familiar way as Claire stepped in. Her long blonde hair hung loose over her shoulders, carrying the faint scent of hay and horse and the outdoors. The flannel sleeves rolled to her elbows showed the lean strength of her forearms, the old scars from years of stunts. God, she looked exhausted and beautiful, and exactly like the woman Delaney couldn’t get out of her head.

“Hey,” Delaney said, keeping her voice level, which took more effort than it should have.

“Hi.” The single word dropped low and dry, carrying no warmth at all.

Claire moved with that smooth, familiar efficiency, but tonight something hitched beneath it. A beat of hesitation, her eyes cutting toward the stairs instead of the table. Two weeks had been enough for Delaney to learn Claire’s small tells, and this one was pure avoidance.

Not tonight.

Not after the way Claire had looked at her in the pasture, that iron control cracking just enough to let the fear through.

“I called in a favor and got one of the crew to drop off pizzas.” Delaney gestured toward the boxes on the counter. “You’re welcome to them. I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I got two half and half.”

“Thanks.” Claire’s gaze flicked to the boxes, then to the tumbler in Delaney’s hand. She looked like she wanted to bolt back out the door.

Delaney stood. The whiskey hummed in her veins. She crossed the kitchen in three steps, stopping close enough that Claire’s height forced her to tilt her chin up. The difference had always done something to her. Now she let it. Her palm slid to Claire’s hip, hooking into the worn denim there, the warmth of skin coming through.

Claire went still. “You know we can’t do this.” The words held no real fight. Just her voice, low and rough.

“I know we’re two adults, and I know we’re working together.” Delaney kept her own voice soft, her thumb tracing a small circle against Claire’s hip bone. “That doesn’t mean we can’t spend our nights together too. If that’s what you want.”

Delaney should have been scared of how much she wanted this woman.

Instead the thought slid through her like the last swallow of whiskey, warm and reckless, while her thumb kept up that slow circle against Claire’s hip bone and the faint tremor in Claire’s throat made the whole night feel suddenly possible.

Claire’s gaze dropped to Delaney’s mouth. The blue of her eyes had gone dark. “I’m trying to be a professional.”

Delaney brought her other hand up, her knuckles brushing the skin of Claire’s cheek, feeling the faint lines creased beside her eye. She hooked a stray strand of blonde hair behind Claire’s ear and left her palm resting against the side of her neck. The whiskey had stripped away her caution, leaving only the need to stop guessing.

“If you don’t want me, just say so.”

Claire swallowed, a rough exhale breaking from her throat. “That’s not what’s going on here.”

Claire’s eyes had gone dark with something that matched the pull in Delaney’s own chest. The uncertainty there wasn’t just hesitation; it was the same damn thing eating at Delaney. The fear of ruining everything, the deeper terror that even this might not be enough. That maybe nothing ever would.

She swallowed hard, her thumb still tracing that slow circle against Claire’s hip bone. “Can I kiss you?” The words came out softer than she intended, barely more than a whisper.

Claire’s jaw clenched, that pulse at the base of her throat jumping like a trapped thing. Delaney could practically hear the war in her head. The professionalism, the past, the way this could unravel everything. But then Claire’s gaze dropped to Delaney’s mouth again, and the way her breath caught said more than any argument ever could.

“Yes.” Just one word, but it sent a shiver straight through Delaney. The last of her restraint crumbled.

Delaney didn’t hesitate. She rose onto her toes, closing the distance, and pressed her mouth to Claire’s. The first touch was soft, almost careful, like testing ice that might crack. Claire’s lips yielded under hers, tasting faintly of the black coffee she drank all day. Then Claire kissed her back, and everything shifted. The caution burned away. Her hands found Delaney’s waist, gripping hard enough to pull a small sound from Delaney’s throat. Those strong fingers spanned her ribs, thumbs stroking along her sides, and the tenderness mixed with hunger made Delaney’s balance falter.

Claire turned them, backing Delaney toward the counter. The edge hit her lower back. Delaney pushed herself up onto it without breaking contact. Claire stepped between her legs like she belonged there, one palm sliding up Delaney’s back to tangle in her dark waves, the other holding her hip with possessive strength.