AllFreeNovel
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The beam Jackson graces me with is worth the possibility of death, as are the three little words he whispers in my ear.
The hollow thudding sound of Jackson tapping the bottom step of the ladder with his palm echoes around the barn. He holds the other out toward me, an expectant stare on his handsome, manipulative face. Whispered, calming words, escape him, and I honestly can't tell if he's talking to the horse or me.
Clinging to Jackson’s hand, I set one boot-clad foot on the ladder. He refused to let me ride in Converse. I bargained for a pair of cowboy boots but apparently, ranches don’t actually stock those in surplus.
Heartbreaking.
“Put your foot in here.” Jackson guides my sole to rest in the stirrup. “And grab this.” He taps the raised lip at the front of the saddle before squeezing my thigh. “Put your weight on this leg, swing your other one over, and put your other foot in the other stirrup.”
Yeah. Okay. Sure. Easy.
Gripping the saddle for dear life, I do as he says. It feels like I'm hovering in mid-air forever, one leg cocked as I balance precariously before I plop down on the saddle, earning myself another brush of soft lips. I wriggle in my seat until I'm comfy, following every instruction Jackson gives me—straighten up, sit back a little, adjust my grip. When he's happy, he takes a step back, giving a little triumphant nod. “Told you. You're a natural.”
“At sitting down?”
He rolls his eyes as he strides towards his own horse. God, there's something really fucking hot about a guy getting on a horse that smoothly. And those jeans. Extra tight, like mine. Thank God.
He takes a moment to steady himself, a long moment in which my eyes are solely trained on his ass, before glancing over to me. “Ready?”
I smile, pressing my heels into Clyde's side like he instructed me to earlier, and he smiles too. “Ready.”
* * *
I am never getting on a horse ever again.
I don't care how much Jackson kisses or begs.
Muscles I didn't even know I had ache. My thighs and ass burn. My inner thighs are peppered with nasty bruises, and they weren’t even worth it because they didn't involve me getting railed into next week.
Don't get me wrong, I had a good time. We rode to a quiet creek on the edge of the property and it was beautiful. We had fun. It didn't hurt when I was riding. But the second I got off Clyde—the cause of my suffering—my legs all but gave out. Jackson had to practically carry me back to the house.
I sent up a silent thank you when his sisters were nowhere to be seen to save me the embarrassment of them catching me being escorted inside by their brother but I'm not quite as lucky when night rolls around. I catch them exchanging amused looks when I limp into the kitchen, only Eliza offering me any sympathy.
Dinner isn't too bad. A little tense, but I think that's mostly due to Lottie's notable absence. At least I hope that's why Lux is glaring at her dinner plate, and that it's her sister’s head she's imagining smashing it over, not mine. But despite the empty chair and Lux's less than stellar mood, I would even go so far as to say dinner is nice.
Eliza vanquishes any chance of any awkward silence, chattering on and on about anything and everything. Even Grace breaks out of her shell with a little coaxing from her brother, and I learn Jackson isn’t the only athlete in the family; Grace is apparently some kind of soccer prodigy. It's amazing how much she brightens up when the topic of conversation rolls around to the most recent match her team played; throw a few compliments her way and she beams something fierce.
By the time we're finished eating, I can confidently say that I've won over another member of the family and honestly, I'm feeling pretty fucking proud of myself.
“What're you smiling about?” Jackson murmurs as he stands, leaning over my shoulder so he can grab my empty plate and stack it on top of his.
I tilt my head back, directing a smile up at him. “Nothing.”
He gives me a weird look but returns the smile before carrying our plates to the sink. I watch as his gaze flicks to the fridge, zeroing on a piece of paper stuck on by a magnet. Ripping the paper off, he brandishes it at Lux. “You made me a list?”
“After your little Christmas holiday, I thought you'd be all nice and refreshed and ready to work.”
I can't help but notice that there's a certain amount of bite in her voice. Jackson must notice too because he shoots his sister daggers, followed by an apologetic look cast my way. I shake my head and wave him off. I reckon I’m owed a little snark.
Sighing, Jackson reads over the list. “The stall doors in the barn are broken again?”
Lux nods. “Fred's gotten out twice.”
Beside me, Eliza nudges my arm with her elbow. “Fred's mine. He's really smart.”
“He's a pain in the ass,” Lux corrects with an eye roll. “Can you fix it please before I wake up with a horse trying to get into my kitchen again?”
“Got it, boss.” Jackson fake salutes his sister as he saunters towards the front door, nodding me over. When I get within earshot, he whispers, “You okay if I ditch you for a bit?”
