Charlie is a few years older than Misty, and he’s timid, so he’s perfect for a first-time rider. While Greg moves to Charlie, I make my way to the storeroom to grab chaps and riding helmets for Slater and me.
When I amble out of the storeroom, the panic on Slater’s face switches to mischief. “I’ve seen those before.” His eyes drop to the chaps. “Just not in any movies you’ve watched.”
Air hisses between his teeth when I throw a large pair of chaps and a helmet into his stomach before clipping a lead to Misty’s bridle. I lay a rug on her back then fix her saddle into place. When I’ve tightened the straps under her belly, she rears up and kicks.
“Gentle, girl. It’s okay.” When Slater steps back with his hands held in the air, I shoot him a wry look. “She gets cranky when she hasn’t been ridden in a while.”
A huge grin spreads across Slater’s face. “Sounds like someone I know.”
Just as I finish saddling Misty, Greg enters the barn with Charlie. “Slater, this is Charlie.” I give Charlie a firm rub on his nose. He likes things a little rougher than Misty. Charlie is all black in color except for his snow-white nose. “Charlie, this is Slater. You need to be nice to him because it’s his first time on a horse.”
Charlie neighs like he understands me. When I pivot to face Slater, he is once again shaking his head. I walk toward him, nodding.
“I’m not getting on a fucking horse.”
Greg coughs, mortified about his explicit language. Greg has three sons, but I’m reasonably sure none of them swear in front of him. If they did, they’d get a whooping.
“It’s just like riding your bike—”
“No, it’s fucking not,” Slater replies as his eyes flick between Charlie and me. “My bike isn’t that high off the ground.”
I can’t help but giggle. Slater, the big bad biker, is scared of an innocent little horse. When he hears my quiet rumblings, his unamused eyes snap down to mine. He looks a cross between wanting to kiss me for my sass and spank me for laughing at him. I’ll be happy with either.
When he leaves me hanging, I fist his shirt with my left hand before pulling his mouth to mine with my right. His lips are stern to start with, but as our kiss intensifies, they become smooth and silky.
After pulling back from our embrace, I whisper, “We’re going to the barn I told you about earlier.”
He remains quiet, silently contemplating my request. His eyes dance between mine while occasionally lowering to my lips. When my tongue darts out to moisten my top lip, a sly smirk morphs onto his face. He snatches up the chaps and helmet I tossed at him earlier to hand them back to me.
“I don’t wear protection.” His tone has me wondering if he’s talking about the riding equipment.
With a wink that makes me wish we were alone, he heads for Greg and Charlie awkwardly lingering at the side. Greg lowers down to assist him in throwing his leg over Charlie. Remarkably, he mounts him on the first try. After using the stirrups to straddle Misty, I turn her to face Slater and Charlie. Seeing Slater on a horse is like witnessing two worlds colliding. Country and Rock N Roll all rolled into one. It’s a mighty spectacular sight. . .
A pillow slapping my right cheek breaks me from my memories. “Stop fantasizing about him.” Melanie thrusts her hand at the door she sashayed through only minutes ago. “He’s right next door if you want to go jump his bones.”
She scampers off my bed and walks back toward the door she pointed at. Just before she exits, she turns to face me. “Do you still love him?”
I nod without pause for thought. “I’ve never stopped.”
“Then go and get him,” she pleads, as if it’s the simplest thing in the world to do.
If only it were that easy.
Chapter Seventeen
Slater
Nick slips into the empty seat next to me. “What did you do this time?” He jerks his head to Kylie, who just finished setting up the conference room for our press junket before our concert.
Grinning, I shake my head. I don’t kiss and tell—anymore.Today, Kylie is back to wearing a light purple cotton dress and little black cowboy boots. She’s still donning makeup, but it isn’t as heavy as it’s been the past week, and her hair is pulled back into a ponytail. She looks full-on country, the hottest I’ve ever seen her.
Not even a freezing cold shower could touch the piercing erection I had after our kiss last night. It was warm, sweet, and one hundred percent Kylie. Her kisses demand nothing but perfection, and that's exactly what you’re given in return. When she pulled back from our embrace, her eyes floated between mine, reflecting a mixture of confusion, lust, and sadness. I hated the fact our kiss made her sad, where all I was feeling was euphoria.
After declaring she forgot to put out the pretzels, she leaped onto her feet and darted into the kitchen. I sank low into the carpet pile, dumbfounded she was fleeing me—again. At least it was only to the kitchen this time. When Melanie nudged her head to the kitchen, encouraging me to go after Kylie, I shook my head. I was scared shitless that the instant I let Kylie back in, she’d run again.
As I watched her from the corner of the room, my internal battle continued. She could feel my gaze on her as our eyes constantly met, but neither of us took it further than a prolonged glance across the room. When she advised Melanie she was going to bed, I made my way to my room. The reason I was hanging around like a leacher without a life was calling it a night, so I had no reason to stay.
I stopped halfway through the entrance, needing one final glance at Kylie before slipping between the sheets, alone for the seventh time this week. The first pair of eyes I spotted were Kylie’s. She’d never been shy about making the first move, so I stared at her, praying she'd walk toward me, to take the first leap, to prove she’s planning to stay this time around. She didn’t move. She just stood still, staring at me.
