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“All right.” Hell if I knew where this should go from here. “I don’t mind letting you hang with me for the afternoon if you like.” I hadn’t meant to make that offer, but the way she relaxed behind me told me it was the right call.
“I don’t want to put you out.” She lightly tapped her forehead against my back. “I don’t have my purse. I don’t even know where it is. Maybe in the dressing room?”
“Do you need it for something?”
“Well, no.” She huffed out a breath and dropped her hands away from their tight grip on my middle. “I don’t even have shoes on. I’m pretty sure my dress is ripped up to my hip.”
“Can’t say that bothers me.” Her quick, delighted laugh made me glance over my shoulder at her. “Just sayin’.”
She pressed her lips together and the blush to her cheeks stirred up that inconvenient reaction in me again. She was staggeringly beautiful. Maybe even more so with her once perfect hair all windblown and the sparkly pin in her hair sliding down near her ear. The tendrils around her face looked soft enough to touch. The real kicker was her eyes. Smudged and still a little red rimmed from tears, they seemed even bigger up close.
Fragile in ways that made me want…too much. Which wasn’t like me. The women who usually got me revved were adrenaline junkies who thought long term relationships meant a weekend of sweaty sex then never texting me again. It worked for me since that was all I had the bandwidth for.
The fact that I wanted to drop my hand to her smooth thigh for a stroke to settle her just like I did with Storm was the most alarming part. Instead, I focused on her dress and got my brain back in gear. She was right, it was not made for the saddle. But she was tiny like my little sister.
“Hang on. I have an idea.”
Her arms came back up to link around the front of my belly. I flexed because I was an asshole and prideful enough to want to show off the muscles my job gave me. Not that they would probably impress a woman like her. She was from Manhattan with all the soft suits and rich types. Or, hell, maybe they were gym rat types.
I had a feeling Clay Winslow was a rarity in the city set. Years ago, when the orchard had been in a bind, I’d followed my instincts and sold off some of our land. It could have gone very wrong, but as it turned out he didn’t mind getting his hands dirty on the tree farm. After meeting Rachel, he’d tucked his Armani suits in the back of his closet more often than not these days.
If it was Armani. I didn’t know an Italian suit from one off the rack at Macy’s. Was Macy’s even still a thing? I just remember my mom dragging us into the department store for a suit for graduation.
I was pretty sure that was the last time I’d worn one.
I pushed those thoughts away. Just because I was attracted to Helena didn’t mean a damn thing. I’d been attracted to plenty of women over the years without acting on it. I’d let her hide out from her drama for a few hours then deposit her back at The Lodge, simple as that.
I nudged Storm from a trot into a longer stride toward the back of the property. He knew the orchard as well as I did so I didn’t have to worry about his footing on the roots of the trees. We kept them trimmed back as much as we could, but we were in the older section of Happy Acres and the path was a little more gnarly. The Jonagold trees afforded us a little shade since these older girls were well over fifteen feet tall at this point.
Thankfully, Helena was a natural rider from what I could tell. Her hips moved with mine which tripped me up some. Made me think of other reasons and ways we could move together which annoyed me enough to nudge Storm into a hard gallop.
He didn’t mind. Storm was built to run and was always happiest when I let him have his lead.
We cleared the Jonagolds, then the Red Delicious, and finally got to the back of the orchard which was unplanted. A delighted laugh from behind me told me she needed the ride as badly as I did. The trail leading to my parents’ house required a little more finesse and I slowed us back to a trot.
“Where are we going?” Her hold on me eased and her hands slid down to grip my vest.
“We’re going to hit an incline. Just so you know.”
“Oh, okay.” She didn’t seem to know what to do with her hands now that we were moving slower.
“I don’t mind you hanging onto me. Unless you’re uncomfortable, of course.” Then she shouldn’t have given me those big doe eyes and asked me to get her away from the wedding if she was.
“No. I just…” She sighed. “You must think I’m an idiot.”
“Of all the things rattling around in my brain, that isn’t one of them. Now, hang on.” My voice was more gruff than I intended.
Her arms slid back around me, this time with a lighter touch. The fact that I wouldn’t mind her going for a harder grip was mildly troubling. Especially if I was going to keep her with me for the next few hours.
She cleared her throat. “I appreciate you taking the time to get me away from the wedding. I truly don’t want to put you out.”
“Enough about the inconvenience. It was a bad scene.” She stiffened behind me and I redirected to a safer topic. “First order of business is getting you some clothes. You seem to be about my sister’s size. I figured we could raid some of her old clothes at my folks’ house.”
“That would be wonderful. The undergarments to this dress are killing me.”
I tried not to focus on the fact that her breasts had been pressing into my back this whole ride, nor the fact that I wasn’t mad about it.
“We can go back to The Lodge if you want your own—”
