Page 117 of Spurred On

Chapter Twenty

Though she’d been on duty the night before, Sidney was scheduled to help out with the morning trail rides, so—against her will—she’d had to slip out of Cody’s embrace and head off to work first thing. She was tired, but it was a good kind of tired. The kind of tired that stemmed from having done a satisfying, full day’s work and having spent the night curled up against a handsome, delicious man.

Aside from that, taking a passel of greenhorn city slickers on trail rides was hardly work. It was more like entertainment. Some people would pay good money for this kind of sideshow.

Though it was difficult keeping a straight face, watching some of them struggle to mount a horse. When Randy—one of the real ranch hands—planted his palm on one of the lady’s bare ass cheeks to push her into the saddle, it was all Sidney could do not to howl with laughter. Why she was wearing Daisy Dukes on a trail ride was a mystery. But there was one thing Sidney knew for sure—that woman’s ass would be chafing something fierce before the ride was over.

Randy rode at the front of the pony string and Sidney took up the rear. The dancers were intermingled with the guests here and there, pretending to be cowpokes, which was amusing as well. The only one who really seemed to know his way around a horse was Brandon, the hottie who’d been so nice to her last night when one of the guests had lit into her because she hadn’t liked her Lemon Drop. He rode just ahead of her with two tittering blondes on either side.

Judging from the way they wobbled and squealed with every docile step, they’d never been on horses before. Perhaps they’d never seen a real one before either.

It was gratifying that she could provide them a taste of such adventure in their dull, boring lives that—according to what she overheard—was filled with busy days lounging by the pool, taking shopping trips to Milan, and debauching pool boys.

Fortunately, the chatter was easy to tune out. She focused on the beauty of the day, the buzz of the cicadas in the brush, the occasional moo from the pasture, the way the sun filtered down in lazy fingers through the trees. There was a gentle breeze and the sky was a cerulean blue and spotted with cotton candy clouds.

So lovely.

Her thoughts of Cody were lovely too. In fact—

“Yoo-hoo.”

A warble interrupted her rather pleasant reflection.

“Yoo-hoo. Girl.”

Sidney ignored the screeching trill. She was not a girl.

“Girly. You there. Hello?”

She finally glanced up at the blonde who was waving madly at her; she was perched on Dancer wearing a low-cut blouse, white leggings, and heels. Oh, and more makeup than a circus clown. Her lashes were like flapper fans.

“Yes, ma’am?”

Cody had warned her these women would be difficult. Whatever did she want out here on the trail? A bottle of water? A martini? Her sunglasses?

“Come here, would you?”

Sidney tried not to roll her eyes. She was hardly a super-sensitive type, but this bitch was grating on her last nerve. She urged Waffle forward and forced a smile. “What’s up?”

The woman waggled her boobs in Sidney’s direction. “I need you to reach in there and get it out.”

Sidney glanced at that cavernous cleavage and boggled. “I, ah, beg your pardon?”

“A bug flew in there, and I need you to get it out.”

“What?” Sidney shot a befuddled look at Brandon; he shrugged and tried to hide his grin.

Apparently the customer was not amused. She narrowed her eyes. “Come on, servant girl. Just do it. We paid a lot for this party. Certainly enough to get decent service.”

“Really,” her friend gushed.

Heat crept up Sidney’s nape. This shit felt a lot like high school, with Tibby and her friends bullying everyone who wasn’t in their circle. It was enough to ignite the rebel in her, to make the old Sidney rear her head.

She was not—repeat, not—reaching into that woman’s sweaty crack and pulling out a sadly misguided bug. No way. No how. She was about to verbally bitch-slap one of Cody’s customers when Brandon eased his mount closer and chuckled. “Wouldn’t you rather . . . have a man do that?” he asked in a sexy tone.

To Sidney’s utter relief, the virago focused her attention on him and simpered, “Well, howdy there, mister.” She wagged her boobs again. “Time to go fishing.”

Brandon offered something that was probably meant to be a smile and gingerly eased his fingers between the woman’s gargantuan breast-like silicone globs, and rooted around for some time. He glanced up, a flare of panic in his eyes. “I can’t seem to . . .”