Racing Savannah Page 34


His mouth lifts into a smirk. “You know the deal. I let you ride my horses, and in return you accompany me to all my boring social events.”

“No one will notice we’re gone for a few minutes,” I say, getting up on tiptoes and kissing his nose.

“May I have this dance?” Jack pulls me against his chest, right in the middle of the pasture.

Ever since I told Jack I wanted to learn to dance fancy, he loves sweeping me into his arms all over the place: between classes, at the mall, in the middle of graduation. One time at the grocery store, he twirled me into a waltz in the produce section. We glided past the lemons, people rolled their eyes at us, and he murmured in my ear, “It doesn’t matter where you dance. It’s only who you’re with.”

Laughing, we spin around in circles beneath the stars, barely avoiding a patch of manure.

Jack sweeps me into an elegant dip. “You like me.”

“You’re okay,” I tease.

“Just okay?”

I whisper how much I love him.

He weaves his hands in my curls, capturing my lips with his. “I love you too.”

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