“Actually,” Arthur says, “I’m curious as to whether we’re using English or Western tack.” It’s probably something we would have talked about if I hadn’t so actively avoided him.
Everyone looks to me. “I see you’re set up for both here, and though it’s much more likely that people with little-to-no riding experience will use Western, I’d like the option for English, too, if that’s all right.” Again, not something I’ve ever had any say in before, but gosh, this feels nice.
“Of course,” Arthur responds. “We’re always ready with both since Maeve only rides English, anyway.” Arthur rolls his eyes at her playfully, and she laughs.
“Oh, you’re mad because you can’t handle it, Arty.” Pointing to me, she says, “Perhaps Alice can teach you, since you won’t even get on one when I ask.”
“Perhaps she can,” he shoots back with a mocking British accent, making everyone chuckle—even Owen. But my laughter is all nerves as I imagine the potential of riding with Arthur and exploring the ranch. I’ve gone out on Scout with Paige and Sam, but I know it would feel different with Arthur. Everything else seems to.
“Anything else?” Arthur and I answer Owen with headshakes, and he closes his laptop. Rosemary gives us a salute and makes her way out the door.
Before they stand, Maeve reaches over and touches my arm. “Alice, we’re having a girls’ night this Friday. It’ll be me, my twin sister Charlie, and our bestie Elaina. We’d love for you to come, if you can.” Again, she is the nicest human, but I’m not used to having friends, and I worry I’ll be the awkward person out among such a tight-knit group. My hesitation either speaks volumes, or she’s always got a lot to say. “It’s super low-key. We’ll be in our jammies, eating junk, and talking about boys. Charlie and Lainey are the loveliest girls, and they’ve asked to meet the newest addition to our team since we won’t shut up about you. Will you pleeeeeeeease come?”
“Maevey,” Owen warns with zero heat as Arthur watches.
“If you’re sure I won’t be imposing, I?—”
“Oh, wonderful! And imposing? Never! I’m so excited!” She claps her hands, bouncing in her seat.
“All right, blondie, let’s go before you make any other plans.” Owen stands and pulls Maeve’s chair out for her asshe smiles sweetly at him. They are too cute together. “See you both soon.” They wave goodbye at us, and I stand, unsure of where to go, but needing to not be left alone with Arthur.
When he walks past me, he leans in close, putting that damn cap on backward. “Didn’t know you rode English, tesouro. I can’t wait for my lesson.” That lightning-quick smirk comes and goes, and then he goes, too, leaving me to unravel in the middle of my office on my own.
FIFTEEN
his trip back from lustytown takes a little longer than mine
Alice
Arthur texted to let me know he wouldn’t be home until later since he’s got his Wednesday visit to Beau’s Bar tonight, so I had the rest of the leftover stew for dinner. Now I’m scouring the shelves in the den for a book to read since I couldn’t shut my brain off. I’m restless. My mind and body are tired, but both are also completely wired, and I’m not sure I’m capable of actual sleep at the moment.
I catch a glimpse of the book Arthur had recommended to me the night we met, but it’s on a high shelf I can’t quite reach. After looking around for something I can use as a step stool, I settle on the small ottoman in front of a chair and drag it over. I’m on the tips of my toes, fingertips nearly touching the book, wondering why the heck these shelves are so high, when a deep voice has me tumbling backward.
“Need some help?” Arthur catches me around the waist when I ungracefully make my landing. “Shit. Sorry. I thought you heardme come in.”
With his chest against my back warming every part of me and rearranging my brain cells until they’re mush, I don’t feel any pain. I rush to step out of his hold, sitting on the ottoman I fell from as we lose our connection, and the ache from my awkward landing finally registers in my ankle.
“I didn’t hear anything. Luther didn’t even bark.” I brush the hair from my face and look up at him, finding his gaze raking over my mostly bare legs, up to my chest and shoulders. I run hot, so a tank top and sleep shorts are my go-to. He wasn’t supposed to be home so early, or I definitely wouldn’t be out here like this, even if the way he’s looking at me is making my entire body buzz.
“Yeah, I took him for a run earlier. He’s tired.” Pushing up the sleeves of his shirt puts the tattoos on his tanned forearm right at my eye level, and while I could happily sit here and stare at them, I need distance, so I stand. The moment I attempt to step around him, my stupid ankle gives out and forces him to catch me again.
“Son of a biscuit,” I whisper. We’re chest-to-chest now, his arm firmly wrapped around my body. The tremors of his chuckle vibrate right through me, and I force my eyes to remain open, though all I want is to melt into this feeling.
“You all right?” He studies my face, lingering on my nose where I know there are freckles. Freckles I’ve always loved, but my mom and grandma always hated. Freckles I surely got from whoever my biological father was, because neither of my so-called caregivers had them.
“Yes,” I respond, my voice coming out softer than I’d like.
“Are you hurt?” The intensity in his brown eyes is enough to send a shiver running down my entire body.
“Yes,” I breathe out unthinkingly. I don’t rememberwhat the question was, but apparently I’m prepared to answer yes to anything this man asks me.
“Where, tesouro? Where are you hurt?” Not loosening his grip on me, he scans my body from top to bottom. With how close we are, and the thinness of my top, never mind the fact my nipples hardened the moment he touched me, my lack of bra is undoubtedly obvious. “Alice.” My name is a whisper I’ll never be able to unhear. It’s a sound I’ll think about for days, weeks, months to come. It’s a plea and a promise, and when his eyes lock on my lips, every cell in my body comes alive at his attention.
When his shallow breath lands on my lips, and I’m certain we’re about to cross a line I’m not sure I’d ever want to uncross again, Luther’s deep bark comes from the room he’s been in all evening. It jolts me back to reality, where kissing my roommate and coworker is a badder-than-bad idea.
I blink out of my daze and clear my throat. “You can let me go now.”
“Can I?” His trip back from Lustytown takes a little longer than mine, but then he loosens his hold when he asks, “Will you fall again if I let you go?” There’s a playfulness to his tone that cuts the tension ever so slightly, and I’m incredibly appreciative of the way he can do this.
