I shivered at the feel of his breath on my neck. I couldn’t help it. It was an involuntary reaction to his proximity.
I helped Maxx drag the second saddle over to the next stall and put it on Earl’s back. Earl seemed stressed. He pawed at the ground and didn’t act overly thrilled to have Maxx attaching the saddle to his back.
“This one seems kind of hard to handle, Maxx,” I said, eyeing the horse apprehensively.
“Nah, Earl’s awesome. Wyatt rides him all the time.”
“Mr. Wyatt has also been riding horses for years. He probably makes it look pretty easy,” I offered, not trying to be a negative nelly. But the last thing I wanted was to take Maxx to the hospital with a broken neck.
“You’ll see, Aubrey. I’ll be riding this horse like a pro in no time,” Maxx stated with enough self-assurance that I almost believed him.
He was able to attach the saddle to the back of his horse a bit more easily than he could with Brandy, but when it came time to mount Earl, the ornery horse wasn’t having it. Earl moved around, not letting Maxx get a strong grip on the reins so he could pull himself up.
“Uh, I don’t think he wants you on his back, Maxx.” I chuckled, watching Maxx try to control the uncooperative horse.
“He’s just being moody,” Maxx griped, trying to put his foot in the stirrups again. Earl took a step forward, and Maxx lost his balance, falling into a pile of horseshit.
“Fucking hell!” he yelled, and I lost it. I started laughing so hard that I couldn’t breathe. Maxx struggled to his feet and promptly lost his footing again and fell onto his back.
“You could help me out here, Aubrey,” Maxx said, holding out his hand.
“Sorry, it’s just you’re in a literal pile of shit there, Maxx,” I pointed out.
“You’re so damn funny,” Maxx muttered.
I grabbed his hand and started to pull him up, when he gave my arm a hard tug and I fell beside him in the manure.
“I’m going to fucking kill you!” I shrieked, trying to stand up but losing my footing, just as Maxx had. The crap seemed to be sucking me down.
It was Maxx’s turn to crack up, but the humor of the situation was now lost on me.
The smell was atrocious, and the squishy feeling between my fingers was making me nauseous.
I looked down at my ruined clothes and at Maxx. His eyes were twinkling, and he was grinning even though we were sitting in horse poop. He looked happy. Maybe the happiest I had seen him since that day we had gone sledding.
And then I wasn’t pissed anymore.
We managed to help each other up just as Mr. Wyatt came in to see what all the commotion was about.
“Well, that’s not exactly how you ride a horse,” he said dryly, and that set us off again.
“I’m guessing the two of you are going to need a shower,” Mr.Wyatt mumbled, shaking his head at us.
“If you don’t mind, sir,” Maxx said, calming down.
“Come on, then. I have some extra clothes. And I’m sure I can find something of my wife’s for you,” Mr. Wyatt said, inclining his head in my direction.
“Thank you, Mr. Wyatt,” I said, biting on my lip to stop from snickering.
The head stable hand led us to a shower cubicle at the back of the building that had several towels hung over the door. It was a little grimy and looked as if it hadn’t been cleaned for a while.
But it was either wash myself in there or smell like horseshit.
I’d choose the moldy shower.
“It’s going to be cold. But I’m not letting you in the house smelling like that,” Mr. Wyatt said, leaving us to our shower.
“Uh, can you turn around, please?” I asked Maxx, feeling silly, considering how many times he had seen me naked in the past.
