Chapter 6
She hadn’t expected to feel this light.
Not after this day, where grief had pressed into every breath, with too much whiskey-soaked sugar, the sharp sting of off-key singing, and the quiet desperation of keeping her best friend from staging a one-woman floor show.
Not even after that kiss—careful, hot, and full of history—had she thought lightness was even possible.
But here she was. Naked. Warm. Tangled in Tucker’s arms in the dim, hay-scented interior of the horse trailer. Laughter lingered in her throat, and her skin tingled with pleasure.
“You’re warm,” he murmured against her hair, arms locked tight around her as she shifted against him. “That blanket’s doing overtime.”
She smiled into his shoulder, body curled close. “Might be me. I’ve been told I run hot.”
“Can confirm.”
His voice was low, rumbling through her bones in the best way. She tilted her head, brushed her lips against his in a teasing kiss. “Then let’s turn up the heat.”
His eyes darkened, though the smile didn’t leave his mouth. “Bossy.”
“Motivated,” she echoed, throwing his earlier words right back at him.
The next kiss found its way easily, slow and exploratory at first. Their mouths met in lazy rhythm, tongue stroking against tongue, hands wandering over skin like reacquainting with a favorite map. But the trailer was cramped, and as desire built, space became a problem.
Tucker eased himself onto the edge of the bunk, feet braced, legs spread to make room. Ginny straddled him, settling on his thighs, her knees bracketing his hips. It took some manoeuvering.
“Okay, wait—your leg there—no, not like that—ow, my elbow—” she half laughed-half grunted as her shoulder hit the tack wall and her knee smacked into the saddle bench.
Tucker grinned. “Sexy.”
She drew back with mock offense. “Are you mocking my trailer seduction technique?”
“Never. Just admiring the display of coordination.”
“Good. Burn it into your brain.” Her eyes sparkled as she arched an eyebrow. “You’ll want to remember this forever.”
And then he kissed her again—hard, deep, the kind of kiss that made her forget she had knees, never mind where the trailer’s walls were.
“Hang on,” he murmured, reaching behind him to rummage through his duffel. His fingers closed around something, and he pulled it out with a victorious smile.
She squinted. “A condom?”
“Emergency stash.”
Relief melted into gratitude. “Colour me impressed.”
He turned the wrapper over then winced. “Shit.”
Damn it. If something was wrong, she didn’t have any backup condoms nearby. “What?”
“These were supposed to be a gag gift. For Luke’s birthday. They’re—uh—glow in the dark.”
She blinked. Then amusement flooded in and she laughed, the sound breaking over them full of delight. “Oh my God. That’s perfect.”
“Seriously?”
“Well, mentioning my brother during sex is officially off-limits in the future, but yes. The condom is absolutely perfect. Use it.”
He groaned but laughed too as he tore the wrapper open and slid it on. And then he was beneath her again, and nothing else mattered.
She shifted her hips, breath catching as he slid inside. The stretch of it, the heat—it was overwhelming and grounding all at once. Their foreheads pressed together, and everything stilled for a heartbeat.
“God, Tucker.”
“Still good?” His voice was hoarse.
“Spectacular.”
They found their rhythm quickly—slow to start, a rocking sync that matched the years they’d danced around this. But tension built fast, each movement steeped in years of repressed want, and soon his hands were clutching her hips, guiding her down onto him harder, deeper.
She rose to meet him, twisted her angle just slightly, and when he groaned against her skin, she laughed breathlessly, triumphant. Driving him to the edge was its own kind of pleasure.
His hand slipped between them.
Her breath hitched. “Oh—”
He found her clit with maddening precision, circling, pressing, teasing until her thighs quivered and her breath became uneven.
“Tucker—”
“Let go,” he whispered against her skin. “Come again for me, goddess.”
She did. Her body bowed as release slammed through her, her cry muffled against his throat. He followed, hips thrusting up with desperate rhythm, his own release tearing from his chest in a low shout.
They stayed like that for a long, hazy moment—clinging, panting, sweat-slicked skin pressed close.
Ginny shifted and her shoulder bumped the light switch on the wall.
Click.
The overhead light snapped off. The faint glimmer filtering in from the yard light was just enough to reveal a soft, pulsing glow between their bodies. Ginny blinked, then leaned back to check.
Her laughter broke the silence. “Oh my God. It really does glow.”
Tucker dropped his forehead onto her shoulder with a groan. “Never living this down.”
“You mean I’m never going to survive. This is golden fodder for girl gossip, and I can’t tell a soul.”
He muttered something unintelligible, kissed her shoulder anyway, then reached for a towel from the bench. They cleaned up together, slow and gentle, trading quiet kisses and sleepy grins.
They curled back under the blanket, Ginny tucked against his chest. For the first time in a long, long while, she let herself truly rest.
She woke to soft fingers tracing down her spine and Tucker’s lips brushing her temple.
“Hey,” he whispered. “It’s just past four. You should sneak back into the house before the ranch starts moving.”
She blinked then stretched languidly, skin sliding over his, muscles humming. She’d go for a ride this morning. Pretend she was in the barn all night or something. “I also said I wanted to turn off my brain and just feel.” She pushed up onto an elbow. “And I’m not quite done with that yet.”
He grinned as she rolled back over him, this time more confident, more fluid. No elbow collisions or cramped limbs—just want, and warmth, and the easy rediscovery of shared pleasure.
It was quick, but full of feeling. Familiar, sweet, with little gasps of pleasure and whispered encouragement. Ginny came first, her face buried in his neck, and Tucker followed a breath later with a low moan and his fist clenched in the blanket.
They lay tangled, catching their breath. The trailer was still dim, winter dawn hours away from lighting the edges of the sky.
“We need a proper getaway,” Ginny offered when she finally got off the bed and reached for her underwear. “An actual trip. Tent, cabin, motel—hell, even a yurt.”
Tucker blinked at her, dragging on his shirt. “Yurt?”
“I’m saying I’m flexible. I can rough it. As long as there’s a shower nearby, I’m in.”
He sat up, dragging his fingers through his hair. “Chances are I’m going to be in Manitoba for the foreseeable future.”
“Then we meet somewhere in the middle,” she said easily. “Once a year for sure. Just us. No promises. Just…this.”
His heart tightened, a strange mix of ache and awe. “And if one of us is with someone?”
“Then we don’t,” she said, voice steady. “No drama. No regrets. But if we’re both free…”
“We’re on,” he finished.
They nodded and sealed the deal with a quiet understanding.
“And whenever you’re at Silver Stone,” she added as she tugged her boots on, “we’re friends first. First and always, got it?”
He stood, took her hand, and pulled her in for one last kiss. “You’re one in a million, goddess.”
Her grin curled, slow and pleased. “I like that nickname.”
“I like you.”
She kissed him again, soft and certain. “I’m glad you’re mine.”
Not forever. Not in every sense. But for now. For this night, this morning, the foreseeable future.
A sliver of stolen time—it was more than enough to be a start.
If you’d like to find out how Ginny and Tucker’s story concludes, check out A Rancher’s Love in the Stones of Heart Falls series.