?Chapter Five
?River
There’s something aboutlunging a horse that calms the chaos in my head. The rhythm of Linux’s hooves pounding against the dirt, the steady pull of the lunge line in my hands... It’s like therapy, but without the awkward silences and overpriced sessions.
Out here in the field, it’s just me and him, circling, testing boundaries, figuring each other out. I wish breaking a horse was as easy as breaking my ridiculous thoughts about Colby Burke. But my stubborn ass brain just keeps dragging me back to him, again and again.
He’s dangerous. Too charming. Too handsome. And far too tempting.
But, dammit, it’s been a long time since a man made me feel like he does, and as much as I don’t want to admit it, I like it. His jealousy is flattering. And the way he touches me, even accidentally, lights a fire in my blood.
Still, it’s not like we can act on it. Not for real. So, I do the only thing I can. I avoid him.
But avoiding Colby is easier said than done. We’re always running into each other. In the barn, on the porch, around the house. Anytime we’re within ten feet of each other, there’s an explosion of heat and electricity, and a desire so powerful it knocks me on my ass.
He wants me.
I want him.
But nothing can happen.
We both know it, but knowing doesn’t make it easier.
For three days, we play this game, and for three days, I lose. Every damn time. He’s like a magnet, and I’m the opposite charge, drawn to him inexorably, irrevocably. It’s a slow and torturous death, and I’m the one holding the shovel.
It’s almost funny. If anyone had told me a month ago that I’d be lusting after my boss who is my father’s age, I would’ve laughed in their face. But here I am, daydreaming about Colby’s lips, his hands, and the things they can do.
Linux slows his pace and tosses his head, bringing me back to the moment. I can’t be thinking about Colby, not now. I need to focus.
“Easy, boy. Easy. Just a little bit more,” I coo softly, encouraging him, and he picks up the pace again. It’s not perfect, and his strides are still a bit stiff, but he’s making progress.
My father always taught me that no matter how much time you spend with a horse, it’s never safe to forget they’re a wild animal at their core. One wrong move, one wrong look, and it can all go to shit. What he failed to mention is that men are just as unpredictable. If he had, maybe I would’ve been prepared to deal with a man like Christian, and maybe things would’ve ended differently and I wouldn’t have ended up here, pining after my boss.
I push the thought from my head. It doesn’t matter. The past is the past, and no amount of wishing can change what happened. What matters now is the present. Here. With Linux.
It takes about an hour, but eventually, the tension drains out of his body, and he falls into a rhythm. I’m so proud of him, I almost burst. This is a big win, and a step in the right direction. By the time the sun starts to sink toward the horizon, Linux is calm and collected, and ready for me to guide him back into his stall.
