The quiet hum of guitar and occasional melodic thump of country music filled the air, the sound of glass clinking, bean bags being tossed, kids squirting water guns, laughter, talking, an occasional beer can being crushed and the snort of a horse. Buck was sitting on patio of his cabin, drinking a cold one. His brown gaze roamed over the people gathered, some sitting at tables, others playing games, collective dads standing around a grill. Boys flirtin’ with chics on their lap. Nothin’ gets better than this.

The ambient lighting helped too, the sun setting and painting the sky red and purple, the golden grass surrounding the cabins glittering. This was home to Buck. Sweet, sweet, home. It would get even cozier if you showed up. That fine piece of ass was taking her sweet time. Probably dollin’ herself up even though one flutter of those lashes could send half the boys at Pikes Peak to the heavens.

Buck was just about to get up and butt in on the makeshift game of soccer some of the cowboys were playing when he caught sight of you. There she is. His gaze roamed over your frame in your dress, the lush curves, and your tits singing a very delectable song that made a warm wave rise up in Buck’s gut. He rose to his feet, moving to make his way down the steps of his patio to jog over to you. Yes. Jog. I’m no better than a retriever and a duck.

“Hey there!” Buck called out, a playful grin on his face. “That dress looks damn good on ya. Wanna grab a drink?”