Page 73 of Paper Horses

An image of taking her over the railing of a balcony that overlooked the city, people rushing along oblivious to what we were doing, came to me. The twitch it caused had her peering over her shoulder.

“Don’t tempt me,” I said, caressing my hand down her spine and over the curve of her ass cheek as I pulled out of her. Watching me leak from her gave me an odd satisfaction.

I fixed my pants and laid a smack on her ass as she straightened her back.

“Stay here,” I told her, jogging into the house and grabbing a towel. Warming the water, I wet it before jogging back to the porch. She was adjusting her pants, and I stopped her, pulling them back down and kneeling.

“This is new,” she said. I looked up at her as I cleaned her up, laying kisses on her leg while I did. When she placed her hands on her hips, her brows furrowing, I scowled at her, knowing what was coming. “Did you learn this from another woman because I don’t remember you ever doing this when we were together?”

“We were young,” I said, biting her thigh.

“Ouch.” She stepped back while I laughed and rose, folding the towel over.

“Stop being jealous. I may have learned a few things while we were apart, but I’m not the only one.” I took her chin between my fingers as she struggled to get her pants on. “This mouth works a lot better now than it did when we were nineteen.”

An unexpected flash of envy snapped at me, and I gripped her chin tighter.

“Point taken,” she said, pulling away from me and zipping her pants. I stepped into her, heat surging through me at the thought of her with those other men. A desperate need to go back to that time, to stop her from leaving me so that no other man would touch her, pounded into me. Even if it was ridiculous because we’d both had other lovers. Her head tipped back, fire flashing in her eyes, darkening them.

I dropped the towel and took her face in my hands. “Fifteen years kept us apart, Olivia, and in that time we both strayed because we were no longer a possibility. I can’t fault you for that any more than you can fault me, so we both need to leave it in the past.”

Lush irises bounced between my eyes, and I could see the resignation, the acceptance she’d already told me she had and that I had neglected to embrace. Lost years and other people, but never what we had. Never love because I had locked my heart away as much as she had, as if subconsciously we had known we’d find each other again.

“You weren’t complaining the last time my mouth was working you,” she said, a coy smile forming.

“Can’t say that I was, nor will I ever.” Because no woman would ever touch me again. Only Olivia. Again, the nudging that this was fleeting, that we lived two different lives returned, but I pushed it away, not wanting to deal with the reality that awaited us once the week was over. Or the notion that I would give everything up to keep her this time.

Chapter 18

Liv

Hudson’s gaze stayed locked on mine, and it was almost like I could see into his thoughts, the worry that sat over them, the same that continued to infect mine. But there was nothing stopping us this time, nothing but ourselves and lives that didn’t fit together like they would have if I’d given up my inheritance and let my brother down. If I’d chosen Hudson, what would our lives have looked like? Neither of us with money, chasing a dream. A farmhouse with our children running through the yard while we sat on the porch holding hands and drinking lemonade. That was someone else’s life, not ours, and dreams that had belonged to two teenagers who hadn’t wanted to admit that our circumstances were too convoluted to ever allow the dream to find fruition.

He looked away, breaking the moment, and walked over to where the notepad had fallen. Buttoning my jeans, I noted how my fingers were still trembling. Hudson had a way of working my body that left me a puddle of mush. Heat rose in my neck when I thought of how he’d just taken me out in the open without a care.

“These are really good,” he said, and my eyes refocused to see him flipping through the notebook.

I rubbed my cheek, the instinct to protect myself, to not let my vulnerability show, skittering across my skin. Swallowing back the biting words that bubbled in my throat, I said, “Thank you.”

Drawing was something I had loved until my father had told me it was a waste and no Icinda wasted time on frivolous things like art. We could appreciate it and buy it, but we never made it. Still, I would draw in the sand when our mother took us down to the beach. I could still remember her praises, how she would smile before the depression and our father stole her.

“But this isn’t a sketchpad. When we’re in town next, we’ll get you a real drawing pad, not this.”

“It’s fine,” I said, taking it from him and closing it, feeling suddenly self-conscious. “It’s not like I’ll ever do it once I return to the city.”

My words hung in the air, their reality like a slap in the face. Hudson’s eyes dimmed, pain marring his expression before he turned from me. “Get your boots on. I’m taking you riding.” The words were terse and rough, a reminder of how he’d been when I first arrived.

“So having me bend over the deck railing wasn’t your reason for coming out here?” I asked playfully, hoping we could return to the moments before.

He glanced over his shoulder, a smirk replacing his grimace. “That was a detour in my plans. A nice detour.”

I followed him through the house, tugging my boots on as he stepped into his. Cowboy boots and jeans. My stylist would have a heart attack, and my favorite boutiques would likely ban me if I ever showed up like this. There was something comforting about it, like slipping into a soft pair of pajamas. Not those horrible snowman ones Tori made me wear for Christmas, though. I swore sometimes Gabe put her up to that just to see me squirm. I couldn’t fathom what he’d say if he saw me now.

My hands stopped, the boot halfway up my leg. Gabe would never judge me. He never had. Of all the people in this world, he was the only one who understood. It seemed odd that we were so close yet a distance stood between us. A physical one. There were no hugs in our family, nothing like Tori’s. No exchanges of emotion.

“Hey.”

My eyes jumped to Hudson, and I staggered, my awkward position of holding one leg in the air while my mind wandered finally catching up to me.