Swift and Saddled (Rebel Blue Ranch, #2)

by Lyla Sage

It was deep-rooted insecurity that came from having a brain that I sometimes felt like wasn’t my own.

Even when I was happy, I was thinking about when I wouldn’t be.

“You are earnest and talented, tenacious and funny.” I couldn’t have looked away from him if I’d tried. His green eyes gripped me and wouldn’t let go. “I would never insult you by calling you something as generic as nice.”

At his core, Weston Ryder was gentle, and I thought that was the best thing that a man could be.

“You say you’re not nice, or warm, or bright, or any of these other stupid fucking words that people use to describe the sun, but I never asked you to be the sun.” I rolled my eyes, trying to move them in a way that would stop the tears from falling. “I would rather have the moon anyway.”

“I’m the moon?” I asked sarcastically. “You’re the moon,” he said. “And I’m the tides. You pull me in without even trying, and I come to you willingly. I always will.”