Jamie was almost ten years younger than he was. But she was so much more grounded in many ways.

He had done what he’d done to protect his mother. To get back at his father.

But part of him wondered...just for a moment...if what he’d really been protecting was himself. But that revelation got lost on a tide of pleasure, on a whole ocean of longing that pulled him under and made him its slave. She arched against him, crying out, her body pulsing around him, her orgasm drawing his own out. This time together had been making love, and it had been remarkably different from anything else he’d ever done.

But this orgasm wasn’t gentle. Wasn’t a calm, easy pulse of pleasure. It was fearsome, and it was deadly, savaging him down to the bone. Leaving him less than he’d been before, and somehow more.

Like she’d stripped every last ounce of bullshit right out of the way, and left behind nothing but him.

And he was desperate to hold on to it, to hold on to her. Because this was the closest thing to a glimpse at certainty he’d had in days. When they finished, he was spent, and after taking care of the protection, they both fell asleep wrapped around each other.

When he closed his eyes all he saw was a woman, riding her horse through the field, her hair blowing in the wind.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

WHEN JAMIE WOKE UP, she was warm, nestled against Gabe’s body. Her face was cold, thanks to the biting mountain air, though.

If not for that, she might have forgotten that they were camping.

Well, that and the hard ground. But she was so comfortable with Gabe that she barely registered it. She sighed heavily, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Then she leaned forward, unzipping her tent, revealing the broad expanse of field and mountains before them, the sun just cresting over the trees, creating a rose-gold ring that lined the ridges there.

She took a breath, looking all around them, and then back at the man still sound asleep in her tent. Her aspiration suddenly felt flipped. Because somehow, life right here felt complete. And she could imagine existing here. Just here. With him.

This was all that love-changing-you stuff, she imagined.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to barrel race anymore. Of course she did. She wasn’t just going to change her thoughts on that because she...

Well, she loved Gabe.

She snuggled back down in the sleeping bag with him, enjoying the view, and enjoying touching him.

She supposed everybody who was stricken down with love had that thought, though. That they could be completely happy, out in the middle of nowhere, removed from the reality of life.

It was life that worried her.

She turned over onto her side and examined his face. When he slept, the lines in his face weren’t as deep. As if some of the tension and pain he carried around with him when he was awake lifted when he dreamed.