We are on the top of a plateau, overlooking a valley. We are on the top of the world, and only Haley and I exist. Slowly, she and Shakespeare move to the edge of the cliffside. She stands up in the saddle and looks down. Then she turns and waves me over.

I can trust Benny not to take a nose-dive, right? He plods over, stopping next to Shakespeare. I follow Haley’s gaze to the valley. A small herd of wild horses grazes below us. A chill runs through me, the beauty of everything unable to compete with the hot sun. My first thought is to get my phone and capture this moment so I can share it on social media.

But I don’t.

Sitting on the back of a horse, next to the woman I love, looking a hundred feet down on a herd of Mustangs suddenly feels intimate. It’s just us, and I want it to stay that way. We sit peacefully next to each other, and Benny is too distracted watching the Mustangs to nip at Shakespeare. Haley sidesteps her horse closer, and I take her hand.

She exhales, and I know she feels at peace like I do.

“I could stay here all day,” I whisper.

“I have before,” she says, and she lets go of my hand, picking up the reins. “There’s this little spot by a creek I’d go to when I wanted to get away from everything.”

“I’d be there all the time. Can we go?”

She nods and turns Shakespeare around. I take one last look at the Mustangs. Things like this don’t exist in real life. The world isn’t really this beautiful, yet here it is, right in front of me. And with Haley in it, it’s perfect.

We backtrack down the hill and through the woods, turning onto a deer path I hadn’t noticed before. I hear the gentle babble of the stream before we get to it. Haley dismounts and unbridles Shakespeare, clipping a lead rope to his bridle. She has me hold him as she pulls stuff out of her saddlebag and creates a picket line between two trees and clips two coiled red ropes to them.

“What is that?” I ask her and get off Benny.

“It’s the ropes to tie them up with,” she says, stretching one of the coils. “They curl back up like this when they’re not pulled straight, which keeps the horses from stepping on them.”

“Interesting.”

She smiles. “We got these at a horse convention. I was more excited than I should have been over a rope.”

“You were that weird horse girl in school, weren’t you?”

She flicks her eyes to me and walks around Shakespeare, taking more things out of the saddlebag. “I still am that weird horse girl.”

She opens a collapsible water bucket, fills it from the stream, then sets it down near the picket line. I lead the horses over and help her take off their tack and get them tied up.

“You have a lot of stuff packed,” I say when she pulls a sheet from another compartment in the saddlebag.

“Oh, this is nothing,” she says with a smile. “There’s food and water in your bag.”

She spreads the sheet in tall green grass and lies down, stretching her arms over her head. I join her, dropping two water bottles and a bag of trail mix next to us. As soon as my body hits the ground, I’m reaching for her, sliding her underneath me, and my lips press to her.

She wraps her arms around me, pushes me between her legs, and takes off my hat, running her fingers through my messy hair. I slip my tongue into her mouth, craving to be inside of her.

“Are we in a secluded spot?” I ask softly.

She bites her lip and rakes her fingers along my back. Fuck it. I don’t care if we’re off a well-beaten path.

“Secluded enough,” she whispers, her hands traveling down to my waist. “How do you do it?”

I press my lips to her neck. “Do what?”

“Turn me on with just one kiss.”

I grin and grow hard, my cock pressing against the seam of my jeans. I don’t answer, I just kiss her again.

“Can we stay here forever?” she asks, settling into my arms after we put our clothes back on.

My heart is still pounding against my chest. “Just like this.”

She runs her fingers through my hair. I close my eyes and hold her tight, scared if I let go I will wake up and realize this is just a dream.

“Are you going to cut your hair once Shadowland is over?” she asks lazily.

“Probably,” I say. “It’s bloody annoying as hell. I never had it long before the show.”

“Oh,” she says. “I like it like this.”

“It’s shorter than it is for the show. I cut it as soon as we wrap up a season. It’ll be long enough by the time filming starts.”

“That’s interesting. All of it’s interesting to me. I know what you do, but not really.”

“It’s probably not as fascinating as you’d think. Though I do love it dearly.”

“I can tell. You’re really good at acting.”

“Thanks.”

“Really. I totally cried at the end of last season of Shadowland. And I was upset for days not knowing what happens to Gavin.”

I chuckled. “I don’t know yet either.” She pushes up on her elbow, raising an eyebrow incredulously. “I promise I’m not feeding you a standard bullshit line either. I won’t know until I get the script. I’m signed on for the next season, so I know he doesn’t die at least. Or if he does, he still gets screen time somehow.”

“I had no idea. I thought you knew everything about the whole series.”

I shake my head. “It doesn’t work that way.”

“That seems frustrating.”

I run my fingers over the curve of her hip. “It kind of is, more so on a show like that where the main characters get killed off with no warning. Everyone is scared when we get the scripts.”

It’s nice talking about work like this, in such a relaxed and real manner. It’s something I don’t get to do, unless I’m venting to Claire about a shitty day. Clouds roll over the sun and the breeze picks up. I hold on to Haley a little tighter. We keep talking, lying in each other’s arms for a while, and then sit up and eat.

“How did you find this place?” I ask her.

She pulls a grape from the vine. “By accident. Shakespeare and I got lost. I assumed he’d find his way back home, but he found his way to the water for a drink first. You don’t get cell service out here,” she adds. “I couldn’t call my mom and tell her I was lost. When we finally got home, there were two sheriff cars in the driveway, ready to send out a search and rescue. I was only fourteen at the time. I felt so bad.”

“Was your mum pissed?”

“Not until the next day. She got me a this GPS tracker to take with me when I went out by myself after that though.” Haley slides her hand along my abs.

“Cold?”

“No,” I say, and I realize the temperature has dropped. So has the sun. “Are you?”

“A little. I didn’t realize it had gotten so late,” she says and groans. “We should get back before it gets dark. The trails aren’t safe at night.”

Chapter 23

Rain falls on us in sheets, blowing into my eyes. Lightning cracks across the sky. I lean forward in the saddle and urge Shakespeare to go faster. We’re almost home. I’m soaked to the bone and cold. My fingers ache from gripping the reins, and my shoulders are sore from being hunched over, shivering.

Finally, we break out of the woods and race across the field, not slowing until we get to the road. Aiden keeps up next to us as we rush to the barn. I dismount and lead Shakespeare into his stall.

“Are you cold now?” I ask Aiden through chattering teeth.

He smiles. “Just a little.”

Thunder booms above us. Aurelia paces around her stall, unsure of what to make of her first thunderstorm. I quickly untack Shakespeare and grab a towel from the cross ties. Aiden does the same, and we dry the horses as fast as we can.

“Are they okay?” he asks.

“Yeah,” I say, my voice lost to another clap of thunder. “They’re a lot tougher than us. Plus they have fur.”