His heart stuttered in his chest and their eyes locked.
“How am I going to get back up?” Colette asked, her gaze sliding to Vinny, happily munching on grass nearby. Marshall cleared his throat.
“I’ll lift you,” he said as he rolled the blanket, keeping his eyes fixated on the horse. He tied up the quilt behind the saddle as Colette came to join him. “You’re going to step on my hands, and I’ll give you a boost.”
“Okay.” Colette gave a small smile and watched as Marshall interlaced his fingers and lowered them, waiting for her small boot. She stepped into his hands, bracing herself on his shoulders.
He should have anticipated how close this action would get him to her chest. She pushed up on his shoulders, and Marshall realized he was in a compromising position. Pure torture. Hewas inches away from burying his face in the soft pink wool and enticing bosom.
Turning his head to the side to avoid temptation, Marshall hazarded a deep inhale of her sweet, floral scent. It was a small indulgence until he could figure out a way to put more distance between himself and this attraction. She awakened a beast in him that had long been dormant. A hunger for something he had told himself wasn’t possible.
This familiar, unbridled lust reminded him of his past. And not in a good way. It made him feel out of control, as he was back then. There was nothing to ground him or keep him from going rogue once he got a taste of something he wanted.
He closed his eyes to push down the sensation. It was the only way.
After a wobbly boost and some groping hands helping her straighten out, Colette was safe in the saddle, her hands on the horn. Marshall slid his foot in the stirrup and settled himself behind her. Grateful for his well-behaved horse, he reached his hands around her to grasp the reins, trying to avoid any inappropriate touches.
It was impossible.
Did he rest his hands on her thighs, where they would naturally land? No.
Did he curl his arms around hers? Absolutely not.
“It’s okay, Marshall, just relax your arms,” Colette said with a small laugh.
“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he said, letting his arms rest naturally by her sides.
“I’m comfortable. This is so cool,” she muttered, leaning into him as she turned to catch every bit of scenery they were passing. The naked trees in dark silhouettes against the sunrise, haunting, yet filled with promise of new life coming in a few weeks. His chest caved in, winded as she pressed intohim. She was completely unaware of how she affected him. A good supervisor shouldn’t be this physically overwhelmed by the proximity of a staff member.
But Colette fit perfectly between his legs.
Her trust was a gift.
Her body was a fantasy.
Marshall thanked the sky as they approached the stables. His torture test would finally be over. The constant bounce of her tempting curves into his groin was pushing his ability to remain unaffected. He closed his eyes, thinking of unattractive things.
Roger sticking his head into his tent during his grad party and puking.
The smell of branding season. Ugh.
“It must be hard.” Colette turned her head, glancing at him from the side.
Marshall choked and coughed.
“Um, what?” Could she feel it? He held his breath, mortified.
“It must be hard to do your job. Day in, day out, no breaks. I admire you,” she said, her mouth curving into a smile. “I hope I’m good enough to figure out what’s going on. I can see how much you have to lose.” She turned to look forward.
Marshall frowned. “My grandfather would only hire the best, so that must mean you’re the best,” he spoke gruffly. “I have complete faith in you.” There was no tenderness in his words, only complete confidence.
“I might have gotten the job because Simone put in a good word,” she admitted, looking back at him, blue eyes hooded. “I did get laid off, after all. That didn’t make me feel like the best. It made me feel very dispensable.”
Marshall snorted. “Grandpa King has always made good investments. He wouldn’t have hired you if he didn’t think you were the top candidate. Only the best for Rosebud Ranch.”
His gaze slid down her face, watching as a delicate bloom pinkened her cheeks.
There. She heard him. Good.
