Page 10 of Wild and Wanted

She nodded, quick fingers stroking Gertie’s neck. ‘Ready as I’ll ever be.’

‘Don’t be nervous.’

Glancing over her shoulder, her eyes found his. ‘I’m not.’

For what it was worth, Clay believed her. She seemed… excited rather than nervous and Gertie would definitely have picked up on any nerves.

‘I always wanted to learn how to ride a horse.’

‘Why didn’t you?’ He knew city riding lessons weren’t cheap but it didn’t exactly look like money was an issue for the Everharts.

She lifted a shoulder. ‘There was always so much else to do it just… never happened, I guess.’

Clay wondered what the other things were. Ballet? Crochet? French lessons? Vocal lessons? Guitar lessons? But he didn’t ask because what the fuck, dude?

What did he care?

‘You want a mounting block?’ He tipped his chin in the direction of the boxy raised platform that sat just outside the ring. ‘Or you want to learn how to do it without?’

Normally he wouldn’t offer it as an option. A mounting block was safer for first-timers but her disdain over the helmet led Clay to believe that Stevie was perhaps feeling a little reckless. And hell if that didn’t light a fire in his groin.

‘Do you use a mounting block?’

He honked out a laugh imagining what the guys on the circuit would think about a cowboy needing an aid to mount his horse. ‘I do not.’

‘Have you ever?’

‘I have not.’ From the day he’d started riding he’d only ever been lifted on a horse by an adult or boosted up by one until he could mount unassisted.

‘In that case, no.’

Clay chuckled this time at the determined jut of her chin. He knew it. Stevie Everhart wasn’t afraid of doing things the hard way and he admired the hell out of her for it and, bonus for him, if she could mount without assistance quickly then they could skip a lesson or two.

But still, it felt incumbent upon him to point out the level of difficulty. ‘It’s a lot easier to do it with a mount.’

Her eyes met his and there was a deep sadness there that stilled the air in his lungs. ‘Who said life was meant to be easy?’

Clay remembered that while Stevie appeared to have the world at her feet, she’d been through a terrible loss. Something that cut through the soft underbelly of privilege with all the finesse of a blunt machete.

She didn’t elaborate any or wait for a response, though, continuing on as she shuttered the emotion in her eyes. ‘I want to do it the way you do it. Can you teach me?’

Oh Jesus… The request hit Clay low and dirty even though he was fairly certain that hadn’t been her intent – just his oversexed libido and a very long dry spell.

Teach her? Mounting a horse from the ground was just the start of things he could teach her.

He cleared his throat and his brain of images not helpful at this particular moment. He pointed beside him. ‘Stand here,’ he commanded. ‘Watch and learn.’

Clay had no idea how many times he’d leapt into a saddle – or ridden bareback – in his lifetime but it would have to be in the thousands. He’d done it so often he could do it in his sleep and there was a muscle memory to it that meant he never had to think about the steps. About where he was putting his hands, putting his feet – he just did it without conscious thought.

And it was that which he drew on as he taught Stevie fucking Everhart, rising country music singer songwriter, ass-to-die-for, to get onto Gertie’s back without assistance. Which sadly, for him, meant a lot of close contact. A lot of hands on as she tried and failed, tried and failed then tried and failed some more, slipping from the horses back time after time.

Gertie bore it all stoically which could not be said for Clay. His hands were all over her body – her waist, her legs, her ass – and he was not okay. By the time she had her butt in the saddle after twenty minutes of trying, he was sweating up a storm that had nothing to do with the Wyoming sunshine and everything to do with the brush of her hair, the scent of her neck and the feel of her ass in his hands.

Finally, though, she’d managed it and Clay almost knelt and kissed the fucking dirt he was so relieved. He didn’t have unintentionally feeling up a Grammy-winning country-artist on his bingo card this year but here he was.

‘I did it!’

Clay laughed at her jubilation. He couldn’t help himself as relief flowed through him cool and soothing to his overstimulated libido. In the grand scheme of things, she’d been a quick study – light and bouncy on her feet with a good sense of balance – but anything new took time to master and no red-blooded man should be subjected to that kind of temptation.