“You look cold. It’s just a hoodie. I know things in Hollywood are fancy, but I’m surprised you’ve never seen one before.”
Her lips twist like she’s trying to keep in a smile. “I’ve seen hoodies before, but you don’t need to give me yours. What if you get cold?”
I laugh. “I never get cold. In fact, I’m known to be something of a furnace. I just exude heat. Excellent on a winter night in Calgary. Just take it. I promise I shower every day.”
“That’s not what I was saying.” She rolls her eyes, but hands my hat back and takes the sweatshirt from me, fingers brushing mine as she grabs it. After wiggling into the fabric, her head pops out, baseball hat missing and hair mussed up. She bends her neck and I could swear she takes an inhale of the fabric, but I’m not saying anything about it.
The cuffs hang down past her hands, and she’s swimming in the black fabric as she fishes her baseball hat out of it. But I’m still hit with a pang as the memory from my dream last night flashes through my mind. The one I definitely won’t mention to her, or she’ll go running outof this barn, probably right out of this town. She rolls up the cuffs of the sweatshirt, and I blink away all thoughts of the dream.
She looks up at me, her face set with determination. “You ready to start?”
Chapter 8
Aura
Iwasactuallylookingforward to grooming Flash again until my anxiety took over. Anything can trigger it, but today it was the thought of getting discovered, of ruining my chance, that did it. I’ve gotten adept at rushing out of public places, hiding in bathrooms, cars, or hidden corners. It doesn’t happen that often, but more than I’d like.
But Quint introduced me to Dean, and he seems like a nice guy. Unimpressed by my celebrity status. It’s refreshing out here. He even said he’d sign an NDA. Quint said he’d get all the ranch hands to do it, so maybe I can try to relax again a little.Trybeing the operative word.
After I pass the soft bristled brush over the last patch of untouched hair on Flash’s rump, I linger a little longer. As much I’ve been rushing him to get on the horse, I’m not really looking forward to it.
“I think you’re about done there.”
“Mmm.”
“Come on. You said you wanted to get riding.”
“I do.”
“Good. First you need to put on the saddle.” He slips the brush from my hand and points to the monstrous hunk of leather hanging from the wall beside us—the obvious source of the leather smell that permeates the place.
Quint is carrying a thick striped pad with white fleece peeking out from the edges. “This is the saddle pad, we’re going to put it on first.” He drapes it over the dip in the horse’s back, adjusting it slightly. “The saddle is next.”
I run a hand over the softened leather. It’s got a beautiful sheen to it, and the middle part where you sit has a softer, suede texture.
“So, what you’re going to do is grab it underneath by the front and back here.” He demonstrates. “Lift it up. Then you’re going to carry it over to her left side and swing it up and over her back. Place it in the middle of the pad there.”
I follow his instructions, groaning at the weight of the thing. “This thing weighs a ton. And you expect her to carry it and me? Seems kind of mean.”
“Oh, she’ll be fine. She can carry a lot more weight than that comfortably.”
“If you say so.”
After the saddle, he shows me how to loop the long strip of leather under her belly to hold it in place. He comes up behind me as I’m holding onto the thing, wondering how the hell it will keep the saddle from slippingoff. Flash shifts on her feet and I jerk back, right into Quint’s body.
“Steady, girl,” he says in a low tone. I’m not sure if he’s talking to me or the horse.
He doesn’t move from the spot right behind me, leaning in even closer as he takes the leather strap from my hands, and that soothing forest smell washes over me again.
“So, this knot you tie to keep the cinch tight is called a latigo.”
Something twinges deep in my belly as he leans over my shoulder to loop the strap—cinch—through a metal ring on the saddle, then tucks it under and through and over and back in a pattern I won’t remember tomorrow. It’s fine, I’ll watch some videos online. He won’t need to show me again, which is good because I don’t like this feeling stirring in my body. Not from him.
To be fair, I haven’t been with anyone since Brad betrayed me, so it’s been a while. I’m sure it wouldn’t be hard to find someone to blow off some steam with, even with the black mark on my name. But that seems to only lead to heartbreak for me, so I’ll pass. And it’s not that easy to find a guy who’s interested in the same type of sex I am. Where I’m in charge. Too many of the ones I’ve met have far too much fragile masculinity to submit to a woman.
“Okay, maybe she can take the saddle,” I say, “but doesn’t that bother her?”
“Ah, she’s fine. Aren’t you, girl?” His arm brushes my shoulder as he reaches past to give the horse another pat on the neck, and a shiver ripples down my back.
