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She concentrated on bearing down on her left butt cheek. Felt strange.
“Good,” he said. “Can you feel your weight much more on your left hand than your right?”
She nodded.
“Switch to the right now. Remember, don’t lean.”
Rafe moved behind her and placed one hand on each of her shoulders. Tingles again. With belly flutters this time.
“You’re leaning,” he said. “You did better on the left, probably because you’re left-handed. I’m going to hold you in place till you can do it without leaning.”
His hands on me? She shuddered. I may never learn to do it without leaning.
She continued to shift her weight from one side of her butt to the other, and gradually Rafe decreased the pressure on her shoulders until he pronounced her ready.
“I’m going to let you use the bit on Belle the first few times, but reins cause horses a lot of pain. I don’t like to use them at all.”
“But that’s how I rode before, with reins.”
“I figured as much. So I’m not going to teach you to ride without reins. We’ll still use them, but we won’t use the bit once you can control the horse with your legs. Belle will thank you for it.”
Angie stood, her bottom numb. She rubbed her butt cheeks. “Can we try it now?”
Rafe sm
iled. God, his lips are so kissable.
“Nope. Our hour’s up, honey.”
“Well…I didn’t get the whole hour yesterday.”
“Which is why I’m not charging you for yesterday. I do an honest day’s work or I don’t get paid. That’s my philosophy.”
Fine enough. Now he’ll kiss me and we’ll go to bed for another amazing romp. She closed her eyes in expectation.
Nothing happened.
She opened her eyes to see him tip his hat and walk toward the barn with a cheery “see you tomorrow.”
He left her with hard nipples and a breathless sigh.
Damn.
* * *
Jefferson Bay studied the document in front of him. He was no lawyer, but the language seemed clear enough. His grandfather had been one big male chauvinist pig. And that sad fact was going to work in Jeff’s favor.
His big brother, Wayne, was dying. According to a PI Jeff had hired, Wayne had an inoperable brain tumor that was growing in size every day, and his heart was weak. He needed a quadruple bypass, but the docs were afraid he wouldn’t survive the surgery. Basically, he’d been sent home to die.
He was a ticking time bomb that could explode at any time. Damn shame, wasn’t it? Wayne, Grandpa’s pride and joy, would die, and Jeff would finally be vindicated.
He smiled to himself and downed a shot of Jack Daniels. The whiskey burned and soothed his throat simultaneously. He’d missed ol’ Jack most of all while he’d been locked up.
Well, almost most of all. He’d missed something—someone—else more. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake that woman from his heart.
Didn’t matter though. He’d learned to live without her long ago, despite his searing need. He’d continue to do so.
He poured himself another shot.
