“Thanks,” I say and he moves round the table to exchange a few words with Gabriel.
“Are you hungry?” Linden’s voice barely registers and he nudges my elbow.
“What, sorry?” I frown at him, realising he’s been talking to me.
“You must’ve worked up quite an appetite today.”
“No more than normal,” I reply, frowning.
“Then why have you been staring at the door our food comes out of for the last five minutes?”
I swing my head back to where he’s indicating—the door to the kitchen, the door I’ve been through the last two nights. Fuck! Was I really staring at it? Instantly, the disquiet shifts inside me and I know what’s causing this off-kilter feeling. Simon, or rather what happened this morning. Well, it’s too bad as I can’t fix it. I’m not going to fix it. I’ve gone too far already. It’s never going to happen again. I just need to forget about him and the feeling will fade over time. The sooner the better.
“Yeah, just hungry I guess,” I say quickly to cover up the fact he caught me out, and he chuckles.
“Me too, but I’m sure our orders will be here soon. Here, have some more wine.” He fills my glass to the brim, but I don’t touch it. Instead I try to focus on the conversation at the table, definitely not thinking of a cute chef with sparkling blue eyes.
I barely taste my dinner. It might as well have been cardboard and ashes for all the enjoyment I got out of it. Again and again I find my eyes flicking to the kitchen door, and every time I force myself to focus, certainly before Linden notices again. When we’ve finished dinner, the guys suggest a drink in the bar, but I’m restless and can’t settle.
“I need some air,” I say and stand. “I might see you later.”
“Sure,” Gabriel says with a smile. As we don’t have a game tomorrow, I know they’ll be there until they get kicked out. Maybe I’ll join them later. I walk through the foyer, heavy with decorations. This will be the first Christmas I won’t be spending at home with my dad. Not that it’s home to me anymore, or that I have a dad. I try not to dwell on the thought that losing him is the reason I’m here right now, but with the mood I’m currently in, it drags me down further.
The night air is a welcome dose of cold. A sharp shock to the senses to take my mind off feeling adrift, waiting for the sea to take me somewhere new. Without thinking, I go where I always do when I need solace—my horses. The only place I don’t feel the loneliness of this life. Jorge won’t be there tonight as he has the evening off, and he’ll probably have found a card game somewhere and will be fleecing the other grooms. He has an uncanny knack for that. He taught me to play when I was a teenager, not well enough to beat him, but enough to learn not to play against him. The barn, with its familiar sights, smells, and the comforting sound of horses munching on hay, soothes me like it always does, and I sigh with relief. I check each of the horses in turn, finishing in Chispa’s stall as always. I rub between her eyes and she leans into my touch.
“You played well today,” I say, and she snuffles at my pockets and nudges me hopefully. “Sorry, I haven’t got anything for you.”
“Would these help?” I turn toward the bright and cheery voice. Simon, looking happy, hopeful, and holding up a bag of carrots.
“You brought carrots?” I blurt out the first thing that enters my head. Well, not the first thing, that was how gorgeous he looks, but I wasn’t going to say that. He smiles and moves closer, stopping just at the end of her stall. The turmoil in me rises in a wave and I take a deep breath, pushing it down andstrengthening my resolve. Him being here, with gifts for my horses, doesn’t mean anything.
“Well, doesn’t she deserve them today, after your win?”
“You know about that?” I give him a puzzled frown. “I didn’t think you followed polo?”
“I might follow a certain player.” He shrugs. “And that goal you scored at the end... Wow, I’ve never seen anything like it. Well, I wouldn’t, as I’ve never seen a polo game before today, but several people around me said it was impressive so I trust their judgement.” He nods sagely.
“You saw the game?” I stare at him in disbelief.
“Yeah, I pretty much thought I’d implied that with what I just said, but I can give you some more details if you don’t believe me.”
“Err, no.” I say, still not believing he actually came and watched the game, especially after the look that could have cut glass he gave me this morning.
“Um, so.” He rocks back on his heels slightly and holds the carrots up again. “Can I come and feed her some again, please?”
He brings carrots, he tells me he took time out to watch me play, and then he stands and asks politely if he can approach my horse. I’m not sure I’ve met anyone like him before.
“Only if you share with the others as well,” I say and invite him into the stall. He seems a little less hesitant as he joins me by Chispa’s head.
“Hey, steady girl, there’s plenty for everyone.” He laughs as she pushes her nose halfway into the bag. He moves it away,learning quickly not to allow it too close or he’ll lose them all. He takes out a handful and offers them on his palm. She lips at them delicately, and I swear she gives me the side eye because I didn’t bring her anything.
“Will the others be okay if I feed them as well?” he asks.
“Yes, they’re all good,” I reply as he backs out of Chispa’s stall. They are used to being handled a lot, always having people round them and other horses bumping them. Those who don’t accept it never make it to be top polo ponies. I remember his hesitancy before, though, and although they’ll be fine with him, he might not be with them.
“Do you want me to come with you?” I ask as he reaches Saban, who’s in the next stall.
“No, I think I’ll be alright.” He gives me a quick nervous smile. “Just remind me of their names.”
