“If you don’t want me in here, please just say so,” I tell him, wetting my dry lips. “I don’t want to overstep.” The brim of his hat falls to cover his brows, and I don’t think twice before reaching up and pushing it out of the way, admiring the velvet feel of it between my fingertips. His breath catches, and a breath later, he grabs my waist, simply holding me there. I stay still, not wanting to spook him again. His fingers flex a second before I’m tugged a bit closer, our bodies nearly flush. “Meetin’ the horses will make you happy, right?”
