By the time Becca checked her phone, Andrew’s invitation to go horseback riding was a half an hour old. She wiped her hair off her sweaty forehead, thinking about how long it would take her to shower and drive out to the lodge.

But she wouldn’t need to shower if she went horseback riding. Would she?

Sure, she typed out. Sorry, I was in the backyard getting everything ready for winter. It would hopefully be the last time she’d have to mow and weed and clip back her bushes and vines.

He didn’t answer immediately, and she thought she’d missed her opportunity to see him that day. They hadn’t said anything about living their own lives this weekend, but it had somehow just been an unspoken agreement.

He’d mentioned something about lunch with his mother, and she did what she normally did on weekends when she had a job: housework or yard work.

She hadn’t ridden a horse for a while, probably since leaving Crystal Lake. And she really couldn’t picture Andrew in anything but a suit and tie, those shiny shoes peeking out from beneath his cuffs.

Her phone buzzed and she almost pulled a muscle in her neck in her haste to look. Andrew had said, Do you know where Whiskey Mountain Lodge is?

Yes.

I live there. Stables in the back. Text me when you get here and I’ll come meet you.

She opened her maps app and put in the lodge and learned that it sat twenty-five minutes from her house.

The clock read two-forty-five, but she felt the need to bring something to eat. He’d shown up at her house with food every night for the past five days in a row. And she wanted to shower so she would look and smell nice for Andrew, but she didn’t want to bathe now and again later.

So she grabbed some gum and changed out her sneakers for an old pair of cowgirl boots before getting in her car and starting the drive out to the lodge.

Whiskey Mountain Lodge had burned several years ago, but the building she pulled up to showed no signs of that. It was beautiful and majestic, the Teton Mountains standing right behind it as if to protect it from any further damage.

“This is where he lives?” She knew the energy company was profitable, and would certainly continue to be once the SonarBot came out. But she had no idea he could afford a place like this—and the shoes and suits he wore.

She suddenly didn’t feel so bad about the salary she’d requested and a bit worse about having him over to her inferior house for the past week.

I’m here, she texted, and the front door of the lodge opened at the same time she closed her car door behind her. A man stood there wearing jeans and a cowboy hat, and it took her several long seconds to realize it was Andrew.

A smile exploded across her face, and she didn’t think it was possible to find him more attractive that she did in the fancy suits and ties, his hair swept devilishly to the side.

But this cowboy version of the public relations director had her pulse in a tizzy. Thankfully, her legs still operated just fine and they got her up the steps and into his arms. “Don’t you look country?” She laughed and he joined in with her.

“I told you I take care of the horses here.”

“I suppose I just couldn’t imagine it.” She stood back and took in the red plaid shirt, which somehow completed the look. “So I guess you really are a cowboy.”

“When I have to be.” He laced his fingers through hers and led her back down the steps instead of going into the lodge. A twinge of disappointment cut through her that she wouldn’t get to see the inside of the lodge, but she told herself to be patient.

“Celia’s in there,” he said by way of explanation. “And if we want to keep this—” He lifted their joined hands. “A secret, she probably shouldn’t know about it.”

“Celia Armstrong?”

“Yeah, she’s the lodge cook.”

“You mean your personal cook,” she wasn’t asking, and plenty of playfulness entered her tone.

“Not really,” he said. “She cooks for family meals and things like that. Graham hired her to cook for the guests at the lodge.” He cut her a look out of the side of his eye. “We have guests that stay on the top floor and in the basement.”

“So you have the whole main floor?”

“Well, me and Bree.”

Becca stopped walking though the stables were in sight down the hill a bit. “You and Bree?” She didn’t shrill out the words, but she didn’t know he had a female roommate. “You failed to mention her.”

“She’s our groundskeeper and decorator,” he said, giving her a quizzical look. “Oh, and she took over Eli’s job of booking the lodge and is our event director too.”

“Who is this ‘our’?”

He started walking again, slower than before. “Graham bought the lodge when he moved back to Coral Canyon, but he married Laney and lives down the road at her ranch. He brought all of us home—well, me and Eli—to help with the lodge and the energy company so he could focus on his robotics. Making the lodge a vacation destination was really Eli’s pet project, and he left a few months ago for California.”

“You miss him?”

“Sure, I guess.”

There was something more there that he wasn’t saying, but Becca didn’t know what question to ask to draw it out of him.

“So…Bree, how close is her room to yours?” Why Becca cared, she wasn’t sure.

“Just down the hall.” He paused outside the stable doors and looked at her, his eyes keen and searching.

“What?” she asked.

“You’re jealous.”

“Uh, yeah. I just found out my handsome cowboy boyfriend lives with another woman.”

He reached up and cradled her face in his palm. “It’s not like that, Becca. You know that, right?”

“Mm hm,” she said, because he was moments from kissing her, and she didn’t believe that he could kiss her with as much care and passion as he did and like another woman.

“Because it’s not like that,” he said. “Not even close. She works for our family.”

Becca leaned away from him, causing him to drop his hand. “I work for you,” she said, searching his face for more of an explanation.

He blinked as he realized his mistake. “Well, that’s different.” He reached for the door to the stable.

“How so?” she asked, following him inside.

“You don’t live here.”

Becca didn’t quite get what the difference was. But he stopped in front of a tall horse and said, “You’ll ride this one. Her name is Second to Anne. She’s Eli’s favorite horse.”

“Which is your favorite?”

He immediately walked down the aisle and lifted his hand to stroke a brown and white horse. She followed him and read the nameplate on the outside of the stall. “Wolfgang.”

“Wolfy for short.” He gazed up at the horse with adoration in his eyes, and Becca memorized that softness there, hoping he’d look at her like that later today, preferably right before he kissed her.

He led the horses outside and saddled them, impressing her with his cowboy skills. “All right,” he said. “Up you go.”

Becca searched her memory for how to get on a horse. She hesitated too long, because Andrew said, “Left foot here,” and tapped the stirrup on the side of the horse closest to her. “Push yourself up. Throw your leg over.”

Becca put her foot where he said, but it felt like her knee was all the way to her chin. She bounced on her foot and pushed, but she didn’t get anywhere.

Andrew burst out laughing, and Becca stumbled with her left foot still in that blasted stirrup.

“Whoa,” he said as if she were the horse, and dashed behind her so he could catch her should she fall. The strength of his body behind her brought her comfort and relief, but she didn’t lose the battle to gravity.

She did get her foot out of the stirrup, and said, “I think I need a box.” Her brothers had helped her younger sister onto a horse with an apple box.

“Oh, no you don’t. I’ll help you.” He edged in closer behind her, leaving very little room between her and him, as well as her and the horse. “Foot up,” he said, his voice rumbling through her back.

Please don’t let me mess up again, she prayed as she put her foot in the stirrup. He counted down, and she jumped, feeling his hands tight on her waist as he practically threw her up. She managed to get her other leg over and onto the horse, a feeling of triumph spreading through her.

He swung onto his horse with little effort, and they set off for the tree line. “How long since you’ve ridden?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“You’re gripping those reins like they’ll save you.” He grinned at her, and she tried to relax.

“It’s been a while,” she admitted, chancing a glance at him.

“Well, it’s a lot like kissing then. You’re doing great.”

“Ha ha,” she said, only not rolling her eyes because she was worried she might lose her balance if she didn’t stare straight ahead. “Very funny.”

He continued to chuckle, and Becca liked the sound of his throaty laughter and the sight of him atop that pretty horse. As they walked beneath the limbs and among the pines, Becca couldn’t recall a time when she felt happier.

If she could hold onto this feeling—and him—for another couple of weeks, her relationship with Andrew would be one of her longest. As they settled into silence, her worries became full-fledged. What if they broke up before the tour? How awkward would that be? Would she even have a job?

She tried to push her rotating thoughts away and enjoy the horseback ride with her secret cowboy billionaire boyfriend, but they would only go so far.

“Do you need this scarf?” Raven held up a navy and white polka-dotted thing that Becca had charged to Springside Energy and never worn.

“I don’t know.” Becca felt completely out of control with two suitcases open on her bed and the tour starting the following day right there in Coral Canyon with a huge press conference on the steps of City Hall.

She turned in a circle, trying to remember what she had been looking for when Raven asked about the scarf.

Her dark-haired friend stepped in front of her and put her hands on Becca’s shoulders. Raven’s nearly black eyes searched Becca’s lighter ones. “I’ve never seen you like this. Even when we were planning that big march in Cheyenne.”

Becca didn’t want to think about that. That had been a worthless protest that had taken her somewhere she hadn’t wanted to go. But she had been nervous, because she knew she shouldn’t have been going to Cheyenne.

Did that mean she wasn’t supposed to go on this tour with Andrew? Their relationship had survived the last two weeks. More than survived. Thrived. She liked him, really liked him, and the feeling seemed to be mutual.

“Talk to me,” Raven said.

“I’m nervous because I’m dating Andrew Whittaker,” she blurted.

Raven’s eyes widened and she fell back several steps until she hit the window seat. She sank to a sitting position and asked, “You want to run that by me again?”

“Andrew and I are dating.”

“Your boss?” Raven wore a strange sort of smile. Almost giddy, and yet still a bit horrified. “You’re dating your boss.”

“He’s not my boss. We work together.” Becca turned away from her best friend, feeling a bit calmer now that someone knew.

“How long has this been going on?”

“Our first date was the day we went shopping.”

Becca jumped to her feet. “You’ve been dating him for weeks! Why didn’t you tell me?” She seemed hurt and yet excited at the same time. “I feel like an idiot now, trying to get you to double with me and Matt.”

“No, no, it’s fine.” Becca picked up two socks that matched and balled them before throwing them in one of her suitcases. She’d mostly be wearing heels but she’d brought her running shoes and planned to use the hotel gyms if she needed to work off some extra anxiety.

“Have you kissed him?”

Becca shrugged, all the answer Raven needed to shriek.

“Becca, this is huge.” She moved to stand beside her again. “I can see why you’re nervous.”

“Why is this huge?”

“Oh, let’s see. You haven’t dated anyone since Jarom, and that guy was totally not worth the time you mourned him. Second, he’s the only man you’ve dated longer than a month, and you’re almost there with Andrew now.”

Becca knew. Though she didn’t want to, she’d been counting the days, almost expecting Andrew to break things off by day twenty. Or twenty-one. But it was twenty-three now, and they were going on a three-week tour together tomorrow. Would that take them to forty-four days, and if so, how much longer would it last? Christmas? Could she make it to Christmas before she drove him away?

“I can see this isn’t all about the tour.” Raven abandoned the folding and sorting and packing of clothes.

“Of course it’s not.” Becca picked up a blouse and put it down again, not in the right frame of mind to decide if she needed it or not. She couldn’t sit on the bed because of all the clothes and bags. “I’m not sure I can keep his attention for much longer.”

“Becca,” Raven said reprovingly. “Of course you can. You’re the smartest woman I know.”

“He’s smart too.”

“So what?” Raven brushed Becca’s hair off her shoulder. “That just means he knows what a gem you are.”

“I’ll annoy him eventually. Too many questions.” She shook her head, remembering a few days ago when she’d taken her list into his office and bothered him until he’d answered all her questions. He’d once told her to ask anything she wanted, that he needed her to so he could see situations from all sides.

“Becca—a”

Thankfully, Becca’s phone rang, interrupting Raven’s reassurance. “It’s Andrew. Excuse me.” She took a few steps away from her best friend and faced the window. “Hey.” She wasn’t sure if she sounded softer or happy to hear from him or not, but Raven giggled behind her.

“You got arrested in Cheyenne?” he practically barked.

“Yes, I mean, it wasn’t really an arrest.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this before? I can’t believe I’m hearing about this the night before our announcement.”

“Why does it matter?” she asked, her defenses flying into place. “I spent the night in jail with over two hundred other people. They didn’t book us or file charges. It was a stupid march. No one got hurt.”

“It matters because the press secretary for Springside Energy will be under scrutiny of every county and every energy company starting at eight a.m. tomorrow.” He huffed out his breath. “We need to meet and discuss damage control. Maybe write a quick piece about what it was and why it doesn’t matter.”

“I haven’t packed—”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes.” He hung up, leaving Becca with a stone in her chest where her heart used to be.

She turned back to Raven, her phone hanging loosely in her hand at her side. “He found out about Cheyenne.”

“I’m surprised he didn’t know already.”

“He didn’t ask. I didn’t have to do a background check.” She felt like crying, but she lifted her chin. “He’ll be here in a few minutes. You’ll probably want to go.”

Raven gripped her in a tight hug and said, “He likes you. It will work out.”

Becca nodded and gave her friend a quick smile, wishing her mom was there to point her wooden spoon at the Collings family motto: Things always work out for us.

She had it painted on barn slats, in vinyl letters on a rock in their front garden, and had made keychains for all the kids one year for Christmas when Becca was seventeen.

Raven left, and Becca followed her out into the living room so she could get things worked out with Andrew and their tour.