Swift and Saddled (Rebel Blue Ranch, #2)

by Lyla Sage

I would never have to wonder what it was like to be loved, because Weston Ryder would love me all the way.

We didn’t run to each other. We didn’t collide in some extraordinary cosmic moment. We took slow, ordinary steps toward each other, and we met in the middle.

“I wanted to say that first,” he said. “You didn’t have to say it.” I shrugged. “You showed me.”

He saw me for exactly who I was, and he loved me because of it, not in spite of it. And as far as lifetimes went, basking in the warmth of the sun seemed like a pretty damn good way to spend one.

We were a forever sort of thing.

We didn’t kiss. Not yet. I held her tight and buried my face in her neck and she did the same. We stayed there for a second, breathing each other in. Every time we saw each other, it was like we had this moment of remembering that the other was real.