Swoon (3 page)

“What’s up, José?” I called out as I took in the fresh morning air, sweetly scented with hay and straw and horse.

“Good morning, Stephanie.” He smiled at me from the wash stall. José was the only person who could call me by my full name without causing irritation.

“Did you see Lawrence this morning?” I started to laugh.

He nodded, a wicked gleam in his eye. “Yes, I did.”

“And you didn’t say anything?”

He shrugged. “I thought maybe you would want to see.”

“You’re all on my shit list!” Lawrence yelled as he stomped back in, now dressed in a pair of dark, worn jeans and an untucked polo shirt, looking decidedly more manly and edible.

José laughed and walked away, shaking his head, while I eyed Lawrence with my arms crossed in front of my chest.

“Don’t get mad at us. You can’t blame me for laughing at something that Lissa did.”

“Yes, I can.”

I rolled my eyes. “Come on, Lawry. Let’s get this done. I’ve got things to do today.”

“I really hate when you call me that.”

I grinned at him. “I know.”

He rolled his eyes and strode away to the stall of his first ride. Mine was all tacked up and ready in the crossties, so I unclipped him from both sides and slipped the halter off over his head. I scratched the big white splotch on his forehead, ruffling up his thick, black forelock.

“Hey there, Batman. You gonna be nice today?” I questioned the big bay gelding as he blinked his large, innocent-looking eyes. The two morning sets we would do each day, and another two at night, were the horses that were particularly bad by themselves. But when they went out in company, they were great. Thankfully, Lissa and Ethan had organized everything down to the last hoof picking, which I appreciated since I’d be insanely busy. They owed me their firstborn. Or at least my weight in booze.

I swung up into the saddle and watched Lawrence lead his horse out. He was on a large mare known for being, well, a bitch. She was big and gray and strong. I was glad to be on Batman.

Lawrence stuck his toe in the stirrup and swung gently into the saddle, easily balancing as the mare danced around, neck arched. He caught my eye as he patted her neck soothingly.

“See something you like, queenie?”

I pursed my lips. “I was waiting to see how you handle yourself on one of these guys, as opposed to standing on the ground. I do like queenie, though. You can keep calling me that.”

He raised an eyebrow. “It suits you.”

“I know.”

* * * *

Lawrence

She was more like the joker than the queen, and for some reason, my idea of perfection.

I took the time to look her over. She was wearing a tight red tank top, chocolate-brown breeches (definitely made for women), and a pair of full leather chaps with fringe all down the sides. Her dark hair was wound into a bun at the nape of her neck, numerous tendrils escaping wildly from beneath her helmet. Her golden skin didn’t need any makeup, plus I would have heckled her for wearing makeup in the barn.

Her shoulders were relaxed and back, a graceful arch to her spine led to the tight curve of her ass, and her legs hung along the beneath her hips to wrap casually around the horse’s sides. Reins held in one hand while she leaned over to adjust the girth, she was perfectly at ease even though she looked so small atop the large gelding. And then her ass was pointed in the air and I just… Well, shit, I stared.

“You ready?” Her voice brought me out of my stupor as I imagined her in a similar position in an entirely different location that I couldn’t remember as being fantasy or reality, and I blinked a couple of times.

I cleared my throat. “Yeah, sure. Let’s go.”

We hacked out to the back fields, chatting easily as we warmed the horses up. The mare I was riding was strong and rushed into everything she did. Typical female. I’d like to say I put all my attention into the horse’s schooling, but I couldn’t. Mostly I watched Steph’s hips roll with the motion of her animal, her hands steady and light, a soft expression on her face.

Finally I gave up riding and pulled up to put my full attention on Steph. After a few minutes, she noticed I had stopped and rode over.

“Too tired there, cowboy?”

I smirked at her. “Nah. Just enjoying the scenery. But this girl is strong as shit. Ethan must have some serious arms.”

She shook her head. “That’s typically Lissa’s ride.”

“Of course it is.” I rolled my eyes. “Because she likes anything difficult.”

We shared a laugh at our friend’s expense and hacked back to the barn, switching to the next set, which would simply trot down the road. Settled on our new mounts, I studied Steph while she adjusted the girth again.

“Do you miss this?” I asked.

“What? Riding? Of course. I don’t really have time to do much of it. I school some of the therapy horses, and I ride to give examples sometimes. But that’s pretty minimal.”

“How did you get into therapeutic riding and hippotherapy?” There was so much about her I wanted to know.

She clucked to her horse and we picked up the trot together. “I’m an only child, you know. And my parents were never around. And when they were, they were always fighting, so it was better when they were gone. Anyway, I spent a lot of time at the barn and at Lissa’s. There were tons of kids at the stable we rode at, and we’d help teach lessons as we got older. One family had a daughter that rode, and the mom was in a wheelchair. Turns out she’d had a fall from a horse shortly after her daughter was born and she was paralyzed from the waist down. They were a neat family. No one was bitter about it. At least by then. It was a freak accident, and the mom still enjoyed horses and loved watching her daughter ride. I could see that she missed it though. Riding, that is. So I talked with her husband, and we came up with a plan to get her back on a horse. That first time she sat in the saddle with her husband holding her…” She shook her head and stared into space. “It was amazing. She was so happy.” She seemed lost in thought, a slight smile on her lips. “Do you know that if you watch a horse and a human walk away from you, side by side, their hips make the same motion, the same rotation and rise and fall?” Her eyes lit up as she asked the question.

I smiled and shook my head. “I never really thought about it. But it makes sense.”

“So when a person who can’t walk on their own sits on a horse, they get to experience that motion again. The fact that these big animals can become an extension of our own bodies… it’s amazing.”

“You’re pretty amazing, you know that?”

She threw a brilliantly saucy smile my way. “I do know that. But it’s nice to hear.” She shrugged and continued, “Anyway, that whole experience pretty much was it for me. Combining horses with really helping people, kids or adults, is about the most rewarding thing ever.”

“I can imagine.”

“So what about you? Do you have a grand plan in life?”

I brought my horse down to the walk to ride through the gate as we made our way back to the barn. “I haven’t decided yet,” I answered truthfully. “When Shane left home, and more so when he died, I guess it was just a given for me to help with the family business. I got more and more involved in the breeding and management. It’s interesting. I like the horses, like seeing them grow and run. But that’s not really what I do. I’m more of a salesman. I take clients out for fancy dinners and convince them that our breeding stock will produce the best racehorses out there. That it’s a solid and exciting investment. I tell them what they want to hear and what their wives want to hear, because they know it’s bullshit. I can’t say I’m passionate about it. Not like you are for therapy. I’ve just always done it.”

I glanced over at Steph and smiled. “My parents are great people, so it’s not… unpleasant to work with my dad. My youngest sister is a jockey. Did I tell you that?” When Steph shook her head, I continued. “Yeah, she’s tiny. Good jockey too. It’s fun to see her race. My other sisters aren’t that into it. As the only boy, I guess I never questioned taking things over one day.”

“That’s a big operation to run if your heart’s not in it.”

“Well, it’s not like it’s a one-man show. We have employees that have worked for us for years.”

Steph’s brows were furrowed. “I have a hard time picturing the farm over there. If it’s so big, why do you send horses down here to break? Why not do it in Kentucky?”

“There are a couple of reasons. Not the least of which is Ethan and Lissa’s program here, which we think makes really good horses. We honestly don’t have the time to deal with it at our place. Outsourcing became more efficient. We’re primarily breeders, so mares and foals come and go, but we have a handful we own and race ourselves. Getting the horses off the farm is good for their training, but we didn’t want to send them straight to the track. It was an experiment this past year, and my dad hadn’t found anyone around us that he felt good about. He and Ethan cut a good deal, it’s not too far away, and the rest is history.”

She nodded. “I have a feeling that my idea of a handful and yours is a little different.”

I laughed. “Well, it’s all relative, right?”

“Do you sell them?”

“Some will go into the breeding program if they’re worth it. Some will get claimed in races. Some, unfortunately, get hurt. Then we decide what to do with them.”

We continued toward the barn in easy silence, hopping off the horses when we reached the yard.

“So, what do you do with the horses that get hurt?” Steph asked out of the silence.

I shrugged. “It depends on what happened. We haven’t had to put many down, but it’s a possibility when you weigh their quality of life. Sometimes we can rehab them back to racing or sell them to another career.” The corner of my mouth raised in a small smile. “And we have a whole field full of retired horses, just hangin’ out.”

“You should do something with them. Everything has a job.”

Great. She was an overachiever. I should have known.

“Yeah it’s a good idea. We’ll get right on that with our spare resources and all our extra time.”

“You’re here dicking around for two weeks, aren’t you?” She rolled her eyes.

“I’ll have you know, queenie, that I took my vacation time to help out my good friends here.” Sweet Jesus, add the fact that she was a complete ballbuster to the list.

“I can’t believe you get vacation time.” She scoffed at me. Scoffed.

I waggled my eyebrows. “I didn’t say my life was rough.”

I barely flinched when the rock pelted me in the ass.

Chapter 5

Steph

“O
h my gosh, I’m so tired.” I groaned as I slid gracelessly off the back of my final ride. A week into working my own job full-time, plus riding morning and night, and my body and mind were protesting.

Lawrence had his head cocked to the side, gazing down at me from his horse with an amused expression.

“What?” I asked.

He leapt off his mount with an overabundance of energy, landing softly on his feet.

“You need to get in better shape.”

I blinked rapidly. “Excuse me?”

He shrugged his big, stupid shoulders. “You don’t see me whining and complaining, do you? I’ve been workin’ all day too.”

“Oh please. I know for a fact you took a two-hour lunch break today.”

“And how do you know that?”

“Because you always text when you’re eating. And you texted me nonsense from twelve to two.”

He grinned at me. “Okay, that’s true. But I didn’t nap. And the only reason I had to take a break is because I had to wait on your skinny ass to get back here to finish up.”

“My ass is not skinny,” I shot back.

“Really? That’s the only part you took offense to?”

“Well it’s not. I’m kind of a bony person, but I have a good ass. I try to appreciate my positive features.”

I felt his blue eyes leisurely travel down my body, and I tried to tamp down the flutter of excitement I felt as I turned to run my stirrups up and loosen my horse’s girth.

His voice behind me, low and gruff and combined with his smooth Southern drawl, made my breath hitch.

“I appreciate all your features as well, queenie. I just haven’t picked a favorite yet.”

And then he walked into the barn, leading his horse. I stood chewing my lip and trying to cool my flushed cheeks. That was the first mildly inappropriate thing I’d heard him say all week. Otherwise he’d kept his distance, been friendly but never pushing. I knew he was interested, at least before. But once we’d started spending more time together, he’d been perfectly polite and gentlemanly.

I’d missed the harassment.

I know. That made me terrible. I really didn’t feel like I wanted a full-blown relationship, but maybe, just maybe, I wanted him to want one with me. Oh my gosh. That was really awful. My honest thoughts were horrifying. Feelings are stupid.

Disgusted with myself, I turned and led my horse into the barn, where I stripped off his tack and then led him out to his field to set him loose. By the time I returned to the courtyard, Lawrence was finished and waiting, hands stuffed in his jeans pockets.

“So, sleepyhead,” he said with a half smile. “Wanna come up for dinner? I’m cookin’.”

I paused momentarily. We’d spent a little time together each day, and it’d been easy and fun. But we’d been busy and distracted. I wasn’t sure my hormones could take one-on-one time with us being close and quiet. Or my heart.

But I’d never been good at listening to that particular organ.

“Sure. I’ll come up.”

We walked side by side up to Lissa and Ethan’s house, Charlie lumbering behind. A comfortable silence settled over us. I always enjoyed someone I could be quiet with, even if I rarely was. Lawrence held the door open for me, and I stepped through, plopping to the ground to struggle out of my boots. He watched with undisguised amusement for a moment before leaning down and grasping the bottom of my ankle. A little shock ran through my system at his touch. At our position. I don’t know why, but it was kind of hot the way he was standing over me. I gave myself a little shake to get rid of the feeling.

“Fun as it is to watch you squirm out of these things, how ’bout I help?”

I grinned up at him. “Have at it.”

Holding my foot in both hands, one under my heel and one at my toes, he wriggled the boot free, then repeated the move with my other foot. Tossing the boots aside, he reached for my hand and helped me to my feet. I sort of leapt up, the tiniest bit anxious to put some space between us, but as he pulled and I leapt, I ended up stumbling straight into his chest. I laughed nervously and pushed away, my hand lingering ever so slightly. I didn’t look up at him. If I saw that he was affected by our closeness, it might have done me in. Worse… if he wasn’t affected at all.