We exchange a glance.
“Do you, really?” the brute asks.
“I’m not really sure,” I say honestly.
Harry nods, getting it, and he crouches at the tiger’s side. He holds him close while the tiger watches me. The tiger then leaps on Harry again, and they play fight more.
“What’s his name?”
“Tusk.”
It’s a good name. The tiger’s teeth are huge.
Now standing on its back feet to play maul and hug Harry, Tusk is almost as tall. Harry laughs as they wrestle, and I watch, amazed. It is inspiring, confusing,and exciting.
The weird, cold man is somehow being human. And is thatwhat it really takes?
Proximity to death!
We washthe horses down at the lakeside, and then, as the sun sets, we brush and groom them.
It’s hot, and the sun bouncing off the water next to us doubles the heat.
Harry peels off his black polo; he looks good in the light, his torso perfect.
Deciding what is good for the goose is good for the gander, I peel off the thick Ralph Lauren-type sweater. I am wearing a sexy black bra, so no harm done.
Harry notices, and he pauses.
“What?”
“Nothing,” he says before growling and continuing.
“It’s not like you haven’t seen them, or bitten them,” I say as a throw-away. Harry is quiet, and I shake my head.Men.
It’s fun grooming the horses, watering them, and getting some sun. It is also fun to be outdoors interacting and relaxing.
After we whack the horses playfully on their rumps, they trot off, flicking their manes. As they swish their tails, they canter away and down to the back of the estate.
Harry and I walk back as the sun finally starts to set on the horizon. We do it in silence, and it’s nice.
Nice when he is less of a controlling dick, and nice when he is…More human.
After showering,I plan dinner when a note arrives from Harry.
Thanks for the ride. I need to catch up with work now. Please deliver dinner.
I was hoping to see him and maybe talk or have some fun. I do, however, do as I am told. I prepare an extra special meal that I’ve cooked several times, but not recently: beef wrapped in pastry, stuffed, then roasted in sections.
I add exotic spices, thinking Harry deserves to try something special.
The way I do it and present it will mean each section of the large dish would taste like it comes from different parts of the world.
As I clean up and am about to leave the large old kitchen, William walks in.
“Nice to see you both riding.”
“It was so fun,” I say, beaming.
