“Just curious. It seems like...” I searched for the right words. “Like it suits you, I guess.”
“As opposed to what?”
I shrugged, suddenly feeling awkward. “I don’t know. Office work? Retail? Normal jobs that don’t require you to wrestle with thousand-pound animals and rattlesnakes.”
He laughed, the sound echoing through the barn. “Trust me, Freckles. I’m not built for sittin’ behind a desk.”
No, he definitely wasn’t. Diego was all muscle and movement, the kind of man who needed space to exist in. I could picture him going stir-crazy in a cubicle, probably driving his coworkers insane with his restless energy. He was probably the sort of guy that needed to live on at least five acres with a fenced-in yard so he could run. Like a golden retriever.
“What about you?” he asked, leading Ranger out of his stall. “What’d you do back in California? Besides modeling, I mean.”
The question hit harder than it should have. What had I done? Posed for photos, went to parties, worked odd jobs to make my halfof rent when the modelling didn’t pay… Not exactly an astounding resume.
“Nothing important,” I said, hoping he’d drop it.
But Diego was watching me with those perceptive brown eyes, like he could see right through my lies and into my very soul. I always felt soexposedaround him.
“Not everyone can say they’ve been a model,” Diego said, leading the horses out of their stalls. “That’s pretty impressive.”
“It wasn’t,” I muttered. “Just a lot of standing around while people told me I was too fat or too thin or my freckles were showing too much. Oh, and if I wanted to be in the magazine this month that I should get on my knees.”
Diego stopped, giving me a fierce look that made my stomach flip. “Anyone who said you were anything but perfect was a damn fool.”
I rolled my eyes, ignoring the flutter in my chest. “Can we just get on with the riding lesson?”
“Sure thing, Freckles.” He led Buttercup over to a mounting block. “First things first. You need to get acquainted. Let her smell your hand.”
I hesitantly held out my hand, palm flat like I’d seen people do with dogs. Buttercup’s velvet nose tickled my skin as she sniffed me.
“Now stroke her neck, let her know you’re friendly.”
I did as instructed, surprised by how soft her coat felt. Buttercup blinked at me with those big brown eyes, and I had to admit she didn’t seem particularly murderous.
“See? She likes you,” Diego said with a smile that seemed genuine rather than teasing. “Now, let’s get you up there.”
He showed me how to put my foot in the stirrup and swing up, his strong hands steadying me at the waist. The contact sent a jolt through my body that I desperately tried to ignore. However, that didn’t stop my jeans from getting tight and reminding me how long it had been sinceanyonehad touched me, especially a man.
“Jesus,” I gasped as I settled into the saddle. “I’m so high up.”
“You’re fine,” Diego assured me, adjusting my feet in the stirrups. “Just sit up straight, hold the reins like this—” he positioned my hands “—and remember to breathe.”
His fingers lingered on mine longer than necessary, and our eyes met. For a moment, I forgot my irritation with him, forgot my broken heart, forgot everything except how alive I suddenly felt.
“You ready?” he asked softly.
I nodded, not trusting my voice.
Diego mounted his own horse with practiced ease, looking like he belonged there in a way I never would. He led us out of the barn and into the open fields of the Turner Ranch.
The day was perfect with clear blue skies, a gentle breeze, and warm sun on our faces. Buttercup plodded along patiently beneath me, and gradually I found myself relaxing into the rhythm of her walk.
“You’re a natural,” Diego called over his shoulder.
“Liar,” I shot back, but I couldn’t help smiling. This was actually kind of fun.
We rode for about twenty minutes, Diego pointing out landmarks and telling stories about the ranch. Despite myself, I found him entertaining. The way his hands moved when he talked, how his eyes lit up when he described his favorite spots on the property, the low rumble of his laugh when I made some sarcastic comment… it was all annoyingly charming.
Eventually, we reached a picturesque creek surrounded by cottonwood trees.
