AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Astonishing.”
My stomach sours. This isn’t going how I wanted it to at all. What am I meant to say?
I want to kiss you, Matthew Hudson?I want to complicate your life even further?I don’t want to pretend with you?
Those options are entirely off the table. I’ve already dragged him through my messy life. Besides, relationships—real, healthy ones—don’t start off with lies and pretending.
The crushing weight of guilt nestles in my chest. I’m selfish for wanting more, for hoping he’d protest, take me by the shoulders and lock his lips on mine again.
He specifically said that he doesn’t want a relationship. I mean, he’s repeatedly brought up getting divorced because the only reason he’s doing this is to fund his new project.
Astonishingcould mean the kiss was surprising. A reason to be taken aback.
Thatmustbe what he means.
Not earth-shattering or incredible. The kiss was just a jumble of forced proximity and pent-up emotion.
We can’t take our eyes off the prize here—we must remain convincing. I fiddle with the fabric of my dress. I can’t make this conversation any more awkward than it already is. I need to change the subject.
I glance around, noticing the horse stables in the distance. “I wonder if my old horses, Honey and Maple, are still here.”
Matthew traces my gaze, his muscular legs working tirelessly through the slope of the canyon. “You ride?”
“I used to, a long time ago.” I heave a tired breath. Is he trying to run away from me? “I did dressage competitions for a year.”
He scrunches his forehead, thinking. “Is that something to do with training?”
“Yeah, how’d you know?”
“Just a guess.” Matthew shoves his hands into the pockets of his trousers, causing his biceps to flex. I gulp. “Dressercan meanto trainin French.”
“You speak French?”
At this question, he slows. “Un peu. J’ai pris quatre ans de français à l’université.”
“Oh…” I’m speechless. He’s a gorgeous, grown man who does crosswords, reads books, and speaks a lick of French.A lick.My body trembles. He’s out of my league. I clear my throat. “Yes, dressage is pretty much a choreographed dance between you and your horse. Though I haven’t competed in over ten years.”
“Do you not like riding anymore?”
“No, I do,” I clarify. “My horse, Sunburst Symphony, is back in New York. She’s a little too ornery in her old age. What about you? Do you know how to ride?”
“The summer between high school and college, I worked at a camp. I got stationed out at the horse stables and learned everything I could, but I haven’t been on horseback in years.”
Why couldn’t he have said no? Now the image of him riding a horse will be seared into my brain all afternoon. Jet-black hair flowing in the wind. A shirt with the top buttons undone as he gyrates his hips back and f—
“Molly?” Matthew waves his hand in front of my face.
“Huh?”Focus on the real him, not the romantasy version your brain is insisting on concocting.
“I asked why we haven’t done any of the equestrian activities at the resort.”
“What do you mean?” I’m unsteady.
“I’ve scanned the very detailed schedule, but not one activity in our last week here includes horses. Maybe we can try to swap something out of the lineup to go ride Honey and Maple?”
He’s right. My mother knows how much I like riding, and she chose not to include it in our itinerary. I had one close call as a teenager, and after that she’s always voiced her disinterest in me picking it up again.
The memory sours my mood.Screw it. There’s no point in letting her worries and fears control every single one of my actions. Isn’t the whole point of pretending to be in this relationship to move on from that?
