“Let’s just say I’d rather suck on a dozen lemons in a row than go through with this.”
“But you’re here!” Claudette combed a tangle out of Pickles’ mane. “You have no idea how good it makes me feel to know my big brother is still capable of a lapse in judgment.” Her smug expression was the same as when she’d caught him making out behind the barn with Tammy Ethridge, his first girlfriend.
“I never intended for you to know.”
“Where’s the fun in that? And be honest. Do you have a plan for handling this delicate matter?”
“Maybe.”
“Excellent!” Mila tossed him the brush she’d been using. “All ideas are welcome on the trail. Oh, and Trace said you rejected our forbidden fruit theory.”
“I can’t speak for her, but she wasn’t forbidden fruit to me. I never once considered asking her out.” He swept the brush over Banjo’s broad back. The midday sun picked up the red in his coat. He’d always loved that color.
“You didn’t consider it because subconsciously you knew you weren’t supposed to.” Mila disappeared into the barn.
“That’s BS!” he called after her. “I didn’t ask her because we didn’t think of each other that way!”
“That’s how forbidden fruit works.” Claudette pointed the curry comb at him. “You submerge any desire you feel because that person is out of bounds. Then one day, or one night in your case, someone makes a move and bam! Full-blown lust.”
His gut clenched. “Thank you, Dr. Freud.”
“You’re welcome. WatchCamelot. Classic forbidden fruit story. Now give me that brush before you scrub your poor horse bald.”
Stepping back, he had to admit a fair amount of the gelding’s thick winter coat had ended up in the bristles of the brush. He cleaned it out and handed it to Claudette. “I’ll get Banjo’s tack.”On his way into the barn, he passed Mila carrying Sol’s blanket, saddle and bridle.
She paused. “Don’t worry,hermano. It’ll be fine.”
“You always say that.”
“It will. Just promise me you’ll listen.”
“I always do.”
“No, you don’t.” Her smile softened the words.
“Okay, I promise to listen.”
He had been listening. He’d heard every word his sisters had said, and they were dead wrong. He’d never thought of Tracy in sexual terms until now, not even in his dreams. Or wait… the image stopped him in his tracks.
Therewasa dream, the summer he turned sixteen. He and Tracy were at the water hole... kissing… and her clothes were… yeah, no clothes, none for him either and then… he woke up, hard as a fence post. He’d forgotten all about it.
Or shoved it deep into his subconscious? Pretended it never happened? She was part of the family, a buddy. Thinking of her like that was bad, disrespectful, not cool… and forbidden?
“Adam?”
Claudette’s voice snapped him out of his daze. He reached for Banjo’s bridle. “Just remembered something. You might have a point, Claudie.” Laying the bridle on top of the saddle and blanket, he picked up everything and turned.
His sister’s warm gaze took him aback. “What?”
“Just when I’m thinking you’re the most bull-headed man on the planet, you go and prove me wrong. It’s an endearing trait of yours.”
“Thanks, but even if I agree with your premise, it doesn’t help. It just makes things worse.”
“Maybe, maybe not. If?—”
“Tracy and Moonlight are riding in!” Mila called out. “Let’s not keep them waiting!”
His body heated. Tracy — Guinevere to his Lancelot. If he remembered correctly, that story ended in tragedy.
