Fifteen Sunny
The sun sits high in the sky, casting a warm, golden light over the ranch as Paisley and I ride side by side. The breeze carries the sweet scent of roses, and the rhythmic thud of hooves against the soft earth is soothing, a perfect escape from the chaos of the ranch. We’ve been riding for a while now, letting the comfortable silence stretch between us, the kind only best friends can share.
Eventually, we reach a field dotted with daisies, the kind of postcard-perfect scene that makes you want to lie down and stare at the sky for hours. In the center stands a huge oak tree, providing the perfect shaded escape.
“This looks like a good place to stop,”
I say, pulling back on the reins.
My horse comes to a halt with a soft snort, and Paisley follows suit. We dismount, leading our horses over to a shaded tree as I dig into my saddlebag and pull out two beers, handing one to Paisley, she pops the cap off like a pro. But when I try to open mine, the bottle hisses aggressively, spraying foam all over me, “Oh, great,”
I mutter, trying to wipe off the worst of it.
Paisley snorts, absolutely no sympathy on her face as she watches me struggle with the mess.
“Wow, Sun,”
she teases, an amused glint in her eye. “We’re going to have to clean you up like that poor cowboy you drowned at the coffee shop when we first got here.”
I roll my eyes, “Ha Ha. Very funny.”
I shake my head chuckling.
We clink our bottles in a wordless toast before sinking to the ground, taking a long sip.
“Ahh, this is perfect,”
Paisley sighs contentedly, her eyes scanning the horizon. “Just us, the horses, and a couple of beers. Doesn’t get much better than this.”
“You’re right about that,”
I agree, leaning back against the tree, closing my eyes for a second. The warmth of the day and the sound of the wind through the trees make it impossible not to relax.
“We should do this more often.”
“Before the boys drive us completely insane,”
she adds with a laugh.
“Seriously,”
I say, chuckling. “They’re like children half the time—bickering, wrestling, and somehow managing to turn every chore into a contest. If I have to break up one more ridiculous argument over who can lift a heavier bale of hay, I’m grounding all of them.”
Paisley laughs so hard she nearly spits her drink.
“And they always drag us into it! Like, ‘Hey, Paisley, pick a side.’ Do I look like a damn referee?”
She throws her hands up dramatically.
“Exactly!”
I say, shaking my head. “They’re grown men. Figure it out! But honestly…”
I pause, a soft smile tugging at my lips. “I wouldn’t trade them for the world.”
Paisley grins, raising her beer. “Me neither. They’re a handful, but they’re our handful.”
We fall into easy conversation, talking and laughing as the afternoon slips away. Paisley is more than just a best friend; she’s the sister I never had. There’s something about her that feels like home, like no matter what’s going on in the world, she’ll be there with that easy smile and no-nonsense attitude. When we ride together, like we did today, side by side under the sun, it feels like the rest of the world could fall apart, and we’d still have each other. She’s the kind of friend who sees through my bullshit and calls me out when I’m being ridiculous, but never in a way that makes me feel small. She just gets it. She gets me.
We’ve been through a lot together over the years, more than I can even count. There have been breakups, family drama, long nights talking about the future, and laughing so hard we couldn’t breathe. She’s the only person who knows every version of me and loves me anyway. Sometimes, I don’t even have to say anything—she just looks at me, arches an eyebrow, and I know she’s thinking the same thing I am.
It’s funny, how easy everything feels when she’s around. Like I can just be, no need to put on a front or pretend I’m not freaking out about life sometimes.
Paisley has this way of grounding me, reminding me what really matters. It doesn’t hurt that she’s got the best sense of humor on the planet, always ready with a sarcastic comment or a one-liner that makes me snort beer out of my nose. And yet, she’s also the first one to offer a shoulder when things get tough. I don’t know how she does it—switching between being my ride-or-die and my therapist all in the same breath—but I’m grateful every single day that she’s in my life.
I’m mid-laugh when our phones buzz simultaneously. We glance at each other, already knowing it’s from our group chat with the guys. Sure enough, when I pull my phone out of my pocket, there’s a message from Bodhi. I glance at Paisley, and she’s grinning at her screen. I can’t help but smile as I open the message. Bodhi has sent a selfie, in the background you can see all of them on their horses, with shit eating grins plastered across their faces.
The caption reads: Ready or not, here we come.
Paisley bursts into laughter, and I can’t help but join her.
“They’re looking for us,” she says.
“They don’t take a break do they.” I add.
“We should probably make a move before they find us,”
I say, still giggling. “They’re pretty fast.”
“Oh, I’m not in the mood to be found just yet,”
Paisley replies, already standing and dusting off her jeans.
“Me too, girl,”
I laugh, as we both mount our horses without another word. We split up. “I’ll go this way,”
Paisley says, pointing left.
“I’ll head this way. Good luck!”
I call, giving her a quick nod before urging my horse forward.
“Good luck, Sun!”
she shouts as she takes off, galloping across the field like a madwoman.
Huh, she really doesn’t want to be found yet.
As I ride through the open fields, my phone buzzes again in my pocket. Slowing down just enough to take it out, I glance at the screen and—yep, it’s Levi. He’s sent me a photo, one taken of me from behind, I’m just sat on my horse. How he managed to get that close without me noticing, I’ll never know.
“Seriously?”
I mutter, quickly turning my head, scanning the horizon. There he is, in the distance, sitting on his horse like a cowboy straight out of a movie. My heart skips a beat. He waves at me, and I can see that cocky grin plastered on his face.
“Five…”
He starts counting down. Oh, hell no.
“Four… I’m giving you a head start, sugar,”
he yells, his voice carrying in the wind.
“Three…”
That’s it. I let out a squeal, digging my heels into the horse’s sides. We take off at full speed, the wind whipping through my hair as I ride. My heart pounds, adrenaline surging as I push my horse faster, but when I glance behind me, I see Levi closing the gap like it’s nothing.
“Damn it, he really is fast,”
I mutter, trying to focus on the path ahead. But it’s no use. Before I know it, Levi’s right behind me, his horse moving effortlessly over the terrain. With a quick grab of my reins, he pulls both of us to a stop.
I turn to face him, breathless and laughing.
“So,”
he drawls, his voice low and dripping with confidence as his eyes lock onto mine, burning with intensity.
“What do I win for catching you?”
His gaze pins me in place, and my stomach flips. Oh, no. He’s doing that look again—the one that makes my knees weak, my heart race, and my brain completely short-circuit.
I grin, sliding off my horse and boldly climbing into his lap, straddling him as his arms automatically wrap around my waist like I belong there. “Me,”
I whisper, reaching up to pluck his cowboy hat off his head and settling it on mine.
The smirk on his face vanishes, replaced by something darker, more possessive. His hands tighten on my hips, and his voice drops an octave as he murmurs, “That’s dangerous, sugar.”
“What is?”
I ask, tilting my head, fully aware I’m playing with fire.
“Wearing my hat.”
His eyes are locked on mine, daring me to push further.
Before I can even think of a clever comeback, his lips crash against mine. It’s not gentle. It’s not soft. It’s the kind of kiss that leaves no room for doubt—he’s in control, and he’s not holding back. My hands instinctively tangle in his hair, pulling him closer even as his grip on my waist tightens, anchoring me against him. My breath hitches as he shifts slightly, one hand sliding up my back to cup the nape of my neck, his fingers tangling in my hair. The other hand stays firmly on my hip, holding me exactly where he wants me. His mouth moves against mine, urgent and demanding, as if he’s trying to erase every second we’ve spent apart. In the back of my mind, one singular thought loops like a broken record: This man owns me and I’m more than okay with that!
My hands drift down his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath his shirt, and a shiver runs through me. He growls low in his throat, the sound vibrating between us making my heart race faster.
When we finally pull apart, both of us are breathless, “do you know that means?”
He nods to his hat sat on my head, “when you wear a cowboy’s hat.”
I smirk, leaning in close until my lips brush his ear.
“Wear the hat, ride the cowboy, baby.”
A sharp laugh escapes him, but the intensity in his expression doesn’t waver. His hands slide to my waist, his grip firm as his lips curl into a slow, teasing grin. “And I bet you’re a damn good rider,”
his voice low and full of heat, his eyes sparkling with a mix of challenge and affection.
My cheeks flush, but I’m not breaking. “The best,”
I quip, letting the words hang between us, daring him to test that claim. He chuckles, leaning over to kiss me, just as my phone buzzes in my pocket. Of course it does.
I groan internally but pull back just enough to fish it out. Glancing at the screen, Bodhi’s name flashes across it, and that flips a switch in my brain. "Oh shoot," I mutter, “I have to go."
Levi’s brows knit together, he doesn’t try to hide his confusion. "Wait, what do you mean you have to go?" His voice drops into a whine, and it’s so unexpected I almost laugh. Goofy Levi is also my favourite. To be honest, I adore every version of him.
“I promised Bodhi I’d be his partner for the wheelbarrow race,”
I say, trying to keep a straight face as I slide my phone back into my pocket and adjust Levi’s hat on my head.
His mouth falls open, eyes wide with genuine offense. “I’m usually his partner!”
His voice is laced with disbelief, like I’ve just told him the most outrageous news in the world.
I grin, I can’t help it. “Well, you’ve been replaced,”
I say with a shrug, swinging my leg over my horse.
I’m trying to stay serious, but the look on his face is too much. He’s full-on pouting now, arms crossed like a kid who’s just been told he can’t have dessert.
“Replaced?”
he repeats, like it’s the worst possible betrayal. “By Bodhi? For the wheelbarrow race?”
I giggle, leaning over in the saddle to plant a quick kiss on his lips, just to soften the blow. “Sorry, bud. It’s a competitive field out there.”
Levi’s still sulking as I gather the reins, his eyes following me like I’ve abandoned him on a desert island. “Sunny, this is... I’m usually so good at the wheelbarrow race! What does Bodhi even bring to the table?”
He’s rambling now, and it’s absolutely killing me. I grin at him, tipping his hat lower over my eyes like I’m some kind of cowboy outlaw.
“Guess you’ll just have to find out.”
Then I give my horse a nudge, and we’re off, galloping away across the field.
As I ride away, I hear him shout after me,
“You’re still wearing my hat!”
His voice is full of mock outrage, but I can hear the laughter in it too. I glance back over my shoulder just in time to see him still sitting there on his horse, arms crossed, pouting like a five-year-old who didn’t get his way.
“Finder's keepers, Monroe!”
I call back, grinning ear to ear as I disappear over the hill.
***
The field is alive with excitement as we line up for the wheelbarrow race. I have no idea how me and Bodhi are going to pull this off. His strategy consists of “Hold on tight and hope for the best,”
which doesn’t exactly inspire confidence.
I glance over at Paisley, who’s teamed up with Knox. She’s already sitting in their wheelbarrow, barking orders like a drill sergeant.
“Knox, you better run like your life depends on it!”
she shouts, pointing a finger at him like she’s about to whip out a penalty flag.
Knox looks like he’s contemplating his life choices.
“I’m a man, not a machine!”
he yells back, lifting the wheelbarrow handles. “Also, why are you sitting like you’re Cleopatra? Help me out here!”
“Nope!”
Paisley grins, folding her arms dramatically. “I’m the brains, you’re the brawn. Now get ready!”
Before I can laugh too hard, Levi comes jogging over, holding something in his hands.
“Wait! Stop the countdown!” he yells.
“What the—”
I start, but then I see what he’s carrying. A helmet.
Levi stops in front of me, planting the helmet firmly on my head. “There,”
he says, adjusting the straps like he’s suiting me up for a pro skateboarding competition. “Safety first, Sunshine. I don’t need you cracking your pretty head open.”
I tilt my head at him, trying not to laugh. “Levi, it’s a wheelbarrow race. On grass.”
He steps back, giving me a look so serious I almost feel guilty for doubting him.
“Doesn’t matter, Bodhi isn’t the most coordinated driver.”
I glance at Bodhi, who’s balancing on one foot while trying to stretch. Yeah, okay. Maybe Levi has a point.
“Thanks, Coach,”
I say, adjusting the helmet.
“But you better get off the track before Paisley starts throwing things.”
“Levi!”
Paisley yells from her wheelbarrow.
“You’re not part of the race! Move it, or I’m getting the crop!”
Levi chuckles, stepping off the track and raising his hands in surrender. “All right, all right. No need for the crop,”
he calls over his shoulder as he joins the other guys on the sidelines.
“Sorry,”
I say, laughing as I look at Paisley.
“She gets a little... competitive.”
“A little?”
Bodhi mutters. “She’s one taunt away from staging a military coup.”
Finally, the countdown starts, and my heart pounds in time with the chanting.
“Three! Two! One!”
The race begins in an explosion of movement and chaos. Bodhi takes off like a shot, and I’m gripping the sides of the wheelbarrow for dear life. The wheels hit every bump, and I’m pretty sure my internal organs are rearranging themselves.
“Watch the potholes!”
I yell, but Bodhi’s too busy shouting, “We’ve got this, Sun!”
as if positive affirmations will somehow smooth the ride.
To our left, Paisley is hollering like a coach on the sidelines, even though she’s in the actual wheelbarrow.
“FASTER, KNOX! You call this running? My grandma moves faster than this!”
“I’m TRYING!”
Knox shouts, sweat pouring down his face as he stumbles over the uneven ground.
“This thing weighs, like, a thousand pounds!”
“Excuse me?”
Paisley shrieks, whipping her head around to glare at him.
“Are you calling me heavy?”
Knox panics, his voice reaching a pitch that could shatter glass. “NO! I’m calling the wheelbarrow heavy! It’s, uh, it’s got thick wheels or something!”
Paisley smirks, clearly satisfied with his backpedaling. “That’s what I thought. Now MOVE!”
Meanwhile, the sidelines are a circus of shouting and laughter. Levi, Hunter, Noah, and Colton are hooting and hollering, shouting encouragement—or heckling, depending on how you look at it.
“Bodhi, pick up the pace! You’re losing to Knox!”
Levi calls, cupping his hands around his mouth.
“Knox looks like he’s delivering a rickshaw ride in a hurricane,”
Hunter adds, cracking up.
Noah chimes in. “Sunny, just close your eyes and
pray!”
I can’t help but laugh even as Bodhi swerves to avoid a rogue rock, nearly tipping us over.
“This is a death trap!”
I shout, gripping the sides tighter.
“Relax! I’ve got the reflexes of a jungle cat!”
Bodhi declares.
“More like a drunk cat,”
I mutter under my breath.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Knox trip over his own foot, sending Paisley lurching forward in the wheelbarrow. “I’M OKAY!”
he yells, recovering with a wild look in his eyes.
“Knox, if you drop me, you’re dead!”
Paisley shouts.
“Yes, Mam!”
Knox replies, his voice cracking.
We’re nearing the finish line now, and I can feel the adrenaline surging. Bodhi gives one final burst of speed, and before I know it, we’re flying across the line.
We crash to a halt, the wheelbarrow tipping over and sending me sprawling into the grass. I’m laughing so hard I can barely breathe, the helmet askew on my head. Levi jogs over, pulling me up with a grin. “Well,”
he says, brushing grass off my shoulder. “At least the helmet worked.”
“Yeah,”
I gasp between laughs. “Thanks for that, Coach.”
Paisley stomps over, Knox trailing behind her, looking like he’s just survived a war zone. “This was rigged!”
she announces, pointing an accusatory finger at me. “Sunny had a helmet. That’s an unfair advantage!”
“Oh, give it a rest,”
I say, still giggling. “You were too busy yelling at Knox to even notice the race.”
Knox throws his hands up in surrender. “I did my best! You’re just a terrible passenger!”
The guys start laughing, and even Paisley can’t help but crack a smile.