The jolt this time is larger, my weight dipping to the left and then easing into a steady back and forth rhythm as she moves underneath me. We make a few small circles around the pen until I start to feel a little more comfortable with the swaying rhythm of her walk, then the movement stills as he comes to a stop.
His eyes are shadowed by the brim of his cowboy hat as he tilts his head up to look at me. “How you doing?”
“Good.”
“You think you’re ready for a little trip on your own?”
My stomach does a flip-flop, but I ignore it. “Yeah.”
“Excellent.” He flips the long reins up and over the horse’s head and steps in closer to me. “Now this is how you hold the reins.” He places a rough, calloused hand over mine as he shows me how to hold them, and it sends a buzz of awareness up my arms. It’s probably just the nerves, I tell myself.
“Pull back gently when you want her to stop. As you learn, I’ll show you how to use your legs and seat more, but we’ll start with the basics.”
All of his instructions are racing through my head as he steps away, moving to the center of the small ring. It’s probably for the best. Concentrating on all the things to do and not to do helps distract me from the ever-present cloud of butterflies racing around in my stomach.
“Now go on.”
I squeeze my heels into the horse’s side gently as he told me to, holding my breath as she lurches forward. But excitement starts to chase away the fear as we move along. I try to follow her head with my hands like he told me, keep my shoulders back, loosen my hips. In spite of all my efforts, he keeps calling out minor corrections to me, and I try to follow them all.
After several laps around the ring, he has me turn around and do the same in the reverse direction, and I ease up even more.
“You got this. Looking fine up there,” he calls out. “Love the posture, nice and tall, shoulders back. One of the most obvious problems for new riders is slouching.”
“Thanks. Dance training, fight training. I’ve had lots of experience with that sort of thing.” I glance away at the fields in the distance. There are a handful of unrecognizable people moving about the farm. In and out of the barns. Someone else is riding out in a larger ring behind the main barn. But they’re going fast, ripping around the space.
“You think you’re ready to try out some barrels?” he asks, following my gaze.
“Not on your life. I won’t even be doing that for the show. That’s what stunt doubles are for. Even if I was good enough, they wouldn’t want to risk their star actors like that. When I said everything in Hollywood was fake, I meant it.” What I don’t tell him is that I’m just as bad as the rest of them. Faking it. Pretending I’m okay when I’m not. Acting like I don’t care about the way I’ve been treated since my very public humiliation.
“Really? Kind of makes me rethink every movie and TV show I’ve ever watched.”
“Oh, trust me. You don’t want to peek behind that curtain. It’s like watching a magician explain his tricks. Without the illusion, there’s no magic.” Kind of what I’ve been feeling like lately. No magic.
“Well, I guess I’ll try not to think about it too hard. We should probably get you down from there. Don’t want to overdo it on your first day.”
As eager as I am to fast-track the process, my ass is aching almost as much as my thighs, so I nod.
“Tell her to stop.”
She comes to a nice, easy halt when I tug on the reins and Quint strolls over. He holds his hands up to me. “Now you’re going to do the exact opposite of what you did to get on. Take both feet out of the stirrups. You can hold on to the horn with one hand, and the other you can place here, then swing your right leg up and over nice and high. Try not to kick her in the rump. And then slide down. I’m here to catch you if you need.”
I follow his instructions, but instead of the graceful fall, it’s an awkward slide made even more awkward when his hands land on my hips to catch me and my ass slides down the front of his body. I pretend I don’t notice the way his dick comes to life at the contact.
He clears his throat, backing away, and busying himself with flipping the reins over her head, and I think I catch a hit of pink staining the back of his neck. As much as I’m not planning on pursuing something with him, it is kind of nice knowing the attraction is mutual.
He seems to recover himself as we walk back to the barn, Flash’s big head bobbing between us.
“Would you like to come over for lunch? At the big house. We’ve got a big pot of leftover chili from last night that needs eating. Caleb’s over at the MacGregors for the day, so it’ll just be us and Dean, maybe Shayla.”
I hesitate for a moment, thinking of the way Shayla looks at me. But the thought of going back to that hotel again makes my skin crawl, andit’s just lunch. “Sure.”
“You snagged our resident celebrity for lunch?” Dean’s husky voice startles me, and I tear my gaze away from the way the denim of Quint’s jeans hug his ass.
I study the dark whorls and grooves in the wooden table.
“Don’t be a dick. She’s a person with a name.”
There’s a warm tug at my chest at the acknowledgement, and I glance up at him from under my lashes.
