He pulls his pony up and peers down. “Miles, I understand you have a vested interest in this game, but if I hear one more peep out of you, you’ll be sent off from the stands. Got it? Let me do my job.”
“That told you,” says Clementine when he gallops off.
“Exactly,me.” I lean into her. “Next foul, you'd better be ready.”
When it happens—this time causing Ruby to almost tip from her saddle—I don’t say a word, but Haven, Story, Hendricks, Clementine, Billy, Jack, Diego, and Juan all make their objections known.
When the umpire turns around, I just shrug at him. This time, he awards the penalty.
Alex and Calamity trot up to the thirty-yard line, and he hits the ball clean between the goals.
The Otters lead three to one, and the crowd roars.
“Fuck. This is better than high-goal polo. Ruby is doing so well, don’t you think?” I turn to Hendricks, to find him staring at me. “What?”
He shakes his head. “Nothing, just happy for you.”
I know he’s not talking about the polo. “Elaborate.”
“I like you having feelings.”
“Feelings? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“It means, Milo”—Hendricks lowers his voice to a whisper—“without sounding too high school...I think you have a crush on your wife.”
The rest of the match passes by in a blur, and when the final whistle blows, I rush to the side to take Clover’s reins.
The moment I lock eyes with Ruby, I realize Hendricks has a point. My wife is fucking beautiful. But this—heart-pounding, belly-curdling feeling—isn’t a crush. It’scrushing.
Oxygen traps in my throat, and when she slides off Clover and falls into my arms, it would take a team of wild horses to stop me from kissing her.
Sweat drips down her face, and I catch it on her lip before my tongue sinks into her mouth. Everything silences. The crowds, the ponies, the chanting of Ruby’s name.
A big hand lands on my shoulder. “Okay, Romeo, you’re attracting attention.”
Pulling away, I grin at Ruby, then Alex.
“Fucking brilliant game,” I tell him before a microphone is shoved my way.
Ruby’sway.
“Ruby, where did you and Miles meet?”
She turns to me, startled. I’m expecting her to tell them to fuck off or focus on any part of the match they just won, but she slowly grins.
“We met at New Year’s.”
“So was it love at first sight?”
A smile curves up her lip, and even I’m on tenterhooks waiting to hear what she’s going to reply.
“Actually I hated him.”
I can’t decide which I love more, the shock on the reporter’s face or Ruby’s loud cackle. But when another one butts in with another question about our relationship instead of Ruby’s insane talent, I cut it short.
“We’re done here. Next time, focus on the match.”
The helicopter blades start up in a slow whirr. As we climb into the cabin, one of the grooms runs up and hands me a thick manila envelope.
