Dylan could’ve held Hazel in his arms forever. Number one, it meant the raging heat between them wasn’t just coiling through his bloodstream, but hers too. Number two, she smelled like everything he loved: grass and sunshine, sweat and horse and leather. Oh, and that peachy scent kept drifting from her hair too.
“So this is what you do?” he asked. “Sit in the grass and watch coyotes pace?”
“We’ll see where they show up every night and morning. See how brazen they are with us right here. Then we’ll tag ‘em by the end of the week.”
“All of them?”
“Just the big one, I think,” she said. “He’s clearly the leader.” He was a magnificent animal, with a big bushy head, and a black-tipped tail he kept tucked low. Of course, Dylan could just as easily shoot the animal if it weren’t for Hazel.
No
