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“What?” I tease playfully, although I’m a little embarrassed to be gushing over a horse.
“You’re every definition of the wordjoywhen you’re being yourself,” he states.My movements still, but my toes curl in my flats. None of my masks have made an appearance in front of him in days, and that fact doesn’t spark the perpetual feeling to vanish.Does he mean it?“Stay here. I need to make sure we don’t ruin your nice shoes.”
I’m dizzy, almost faint.A gift?That’s definitely not something a fake boyfriend does for his fake girlfriend.
“O-okay.”
He walks to the front of the barn and returns with a large cardboard box.“Open it.”
I’m more thrilled than I was when I got my Metallic Chèvre Birkin 25 shipped over from a silent auction in Austria last year.
I pull apart the twine and lift the lid. Inside, a pair of freshly oiled riding boots lie on a tuft of paper. There’s a leather pull loop at the heel collar, and a set of long, lacy socks rests beside them.
They’re beautiful.
More than that; they’re perfect.
“Matthew. Riding boots?”
“I worked with Lolita to have them crafted for you after we visited the stables last week,” he explains, a gleam shining in his eyes. “Pull the zipper down a bit and check the inside lining.”
I do as he says andcatch a scalloped leather label. Etched in a beautiful gold is an inscription:Property of Molly Greene.
My stomach somersaults. “This is—”
“I figured the boots can be an early celebration gift for your parents approving our marriage on Saturday. Why don’t you try them on while I saddle up the horses.”
I force my hands steady and glance up into his eyes. Beams of sunlight pour into the stables, casting shadows across his strong shoulders and spectacular face. My heart sings again.
He’s real.This is real.
And if both of those things are true, then perhapswecould be real too.
Chapter16
Matthew
“I’m having such a lovely time.”Molly blushes beneath the permanent smile etched onto her face. “To be honest, I’ve never gone this far off the trail. It’s beautiful here.”
The breathtaking scenery of the canyons surrounds us. We sit in a shaded oasis nestled between two rock formations. Honey and Maple are tied up beside us, grazing on wheatgrass along the trail.
I look over at her. “Very beautiful.”
From the picnic basket Lolita prepared for us, I pull out a pail of strawberries and oranges and hand Molly one of the red berries. As she takes a bite, she wraps her lips around the succulent skin. My eyes trace a path over her cheeks and neck before they settle on the delicate hollow of her collarbones.
Dammit. Why does the sight of her send me into a frenzy?It’s just a clavicle, man. Relax.
A throb pulses through my body. I shift my knees on top of the blanket, attempting to ignore the persistent ache in my cock.
Watching Molly ride for the past hour was difficult enough. Her curves bobbing on horseback, her curls dancing in the wind.
Absolute torment.
“You’re a wonderful riding partner.” Molly places the strawberry stem in the pail and sets her palms behind her. “I haven’t been on horseback with someone in a really long time.”
“Why’d you stop dressage?” I take an orange in my hands and dig my fingers into its tough flesh. Molly watches my movements intently.
“I had a very close call with Sunburst Symphony. I didn’t fall, but I did lose control of my reins.Once. By accident.” She sighs. “I was always a nervous rider, but my safety stirrups weren’t set up properly and I lost some footing. My mom got worried and asked me to pack up my breeches and spurs.”
