“Thanks, but I really need to get in shape as well.” Riding is more strenuous than I remember, either that or it’s because I’m ten years older. Before I dismount I notice a figure off to one side. It’s Gabriel. I don’t know how long he’s been there, whether or not he’s seen us practice, but the expression on his face is one I’ve never seen before. Full of longing and something much deeper. He catches my eye and strides over to us, the look gone and a smile in its place.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
GABRIEL
I catch the end of Charley’s lesson with Andrés and I’m transfixed watching him. He’s always been a natural on horseback, even when he was just starting out. He has an inherent balance and rhythm. Watching him gallop down the field on Arrow, at one with him, it’s beautiful to see, and I feel no regrets about letting him have one of my best horses. They suit each other.
“Simon has made us some lunch if you’re ready,” I say when I reach them.
“I’ve worked up an appetite for sure.” Charley jumps to the ground, no sign of the wobbles he had the other day, though his broad chest is heaving and I’m distracted by its movement for a second until he speaks again. “I’m out of shape. Any chance of a gym so I can get my fitness back? Along with the sauna you promised of course.” He grins and his blue eyes shine.
“I did no such thing. I said you can use the hot tub.”
“And share with Mim? How would she fancy her tub being filled with sweaty men?” He hands Arrow over to Kirsty, while Jorge takes Saban and we start walking back to the centre.
“Eeeew, that’s a mental image I don’t need.”
“Of your mum or the sweaty men?” Charley laughs. Of my mum, obviously. The thought of a sweaty Charley is delicious but I don’t say that. I resist the urge to tackle him to the floor for saying something like that, which would’ve been my response when we were kids. Instead I shove his shoulder hard, making him take a few steps sideways to regain his balance. He just laughs at me the way he would have done once I’d had him pinned to the ground. The sound stirs a deep desire in my core. How had I not read the signs back then? Oh the wonders of hindsight and its twenty-twenty vision. But a gym is an excellent idea and I make a note to call Duncan, the architect for the centre, and see what he can come up with.
After they’ve washed their faces and hands in the staffroom sink, we go through to the restaurant where Simon has prepared a table for us.
He invites us to sit, but not before Andrés has claimed a kiss from his boyfriend in greeting.
“I wanted you to be my guinea pigs for some of the food, as I’m training a couple of new staff this morning.” He winces as there’s a clattering heard from the kitchen. “Oh lord, I’ll be right back.” He disappears briskly through the door. We hear a few heated words before he reappears with a couple of dishes, and is followed by two young people, a man and a woman, both also serving dishes which they set down on the table. One of them has a very red face. Simon dismisses them and takes his place at the table.
“Are they alright?” Charley asks in a loud whisper, and Simon snorts and rolls his eyes.
“They will be with a bit more training and less goofing around.”
“You seem too mild mannered to shout like that,” Charley adds, and Simon gives him a toothy grin. I’ve known Simon for a few months now and I know there’s steel behind his cute face.
“A kitchen is a busy place, with hot food, sometimes open flames. They need to be aware of that in order to stay safe. They’ll remember me being sharp with them, but they won’t take any notice if I make light of it. I also praise good work, though, and I never bear grudges. If they mess up one day, the next shift is a clean slate.” He gestures to the food, which is an array of small sandwiches, blinis, mini quiches, and tartlets. All of them are able to be eaten in one or two bites.
“Tuck in. I was planning these for the lunchtimes over the two days. Mix them up so it’s not the same each day.”
We all add a few to our plates and start trying them. I’ve eaten at a lot of functions and events, not to mention Michelin starred restaurants over the years, and I’m used to the types of food they serve. But Simon brings something else. Instead of it being overly fancy just for the sake of it, he brings new twists to the classics. These are no exception.
“Delicious,” Andrés says, finishing what he originally had on his plate and reaching for some more.
“Well, you’re biased, so I’m not accepting your opinion.” Andrés just shrugs and Simon turns to me and Charley.
“I think they’re incredible,” Charley says, popping a tartlet into his mouth. “Can you make me lunch every day?”
“He doesn’t even make me lunch every day,” Andrés grumbles good-naturedly, and Simon laughs, batting his arm with his hand.
“I don’t think we’ll have enough wait staff for the lunches, so can we do these buffet-style, and the staff can just replenish them and clear plates? We can label them clearly to show the vegetarian and vegan options,” Simon asks.
Charley looks over at me as if I need to confirm it.
“It’s your call, but if you want my opinion, I’m happy with that. Then people can graze what they want, especially between matches.”
“Okay, yeah, it works for me,” he confirms to Simon.
“So, I have news,” I say when there’s a lull in conversation, and all eyes swivel to me. “You are now officially a member of the club.” I hand Charley a sheaf of papers. He takes them and glances at them before looking up.
“You registered me.” His delighted smile causes a fluttering in my chest.
“You need to complete the last one, since you’ve been a registered player before, so we can assign a handicap.”
