“It’s simple, really. If things work out, I’ll quit or ask for a transfer. If they don’t, we go back to being friends. Yes, it may be awkward, but I think we’re both mature enough to be able to continue working together.”
“And if we’re caught?”
“Ali, try not to overthink it,” he says softly. “If someone catches us, we deal with it, and find a way to keep seeing one another.”
“But—”
He places a finger on my lip, silencing me. “We’ll handle things as they come. All you need to know is that I’m all in.” He rewards me with a rare Cheshire cat smile. Sefton neighs loudly in agreement. Art runs his right hand down the horse’s neck. “That’s a good boy,” he says softly.
I fidget in my seat. I’ve gotten used to having him around. I can’t imagine Art being reassigned or quitting and not being able to spend all day with him.
“Does your back hurt? We can stop and take a break if you need.” He pulls on Sefton’s reins and slows our pace.
“I’m fine, just thinking.” My gaze travels to the side of the saddle. It’s black, without any contrast stitching. My normal saddle is a dark tan. “Huh. This isn’t the saddle I normally use.”
“Maybe Danny ordered a new saddle for you,” Art suggests.
“I doubt it. If there’s a problem with my tack, I always try and have it repaired before I go out and buy a replacement.”
Sefton and Athena continue in a steady walk until we reach the garden’s pond. A trio of willow trees perched along the bank provides the perfect shade from the late morning sun. Art and I climb down and allow our mounts a drink. It’s then that I take a moment to inspect the saddle up close.
I run my finger along the material. It’s not made of leather, but rather some alternative type of mesh. There’s also much more padding, especially toward the rear of the seat where my tailbone sits. No wonder I haven’t felt any discomfort today.
“The Orthosaddle,” I read aloud from a label I’ve found.
My breath hitches. I watch Art pretend not to pay attention as he digs an apple out of the saddlebag. A memory resurfaces from the last time we were out riding together. “Have you looked into having an orthopedic saddle made up for you? It’s like a normal saddle, but the divot is supposed to help relieve some of the pressure from the injured areas.”
“It was you.” I piece it together. “The saddle wasn’t Danny’s idea. It was yours.”
He doesn’t answer.
“Did you have this made up special for me?”
His shoulders hunch. “You weren’t supposed to find out. I swore Danny to secrecy.”
This man is full of surprises. My heart swells. “I want to kiss you right now. Except...” I glance around us nervously. “Papa and his horse have a habit of materializing out of thin air.”
“Save it for the flat viewing.” Art chuckles. “I can’t imagine anything worse right now than your father catching us. He’d probably order me to the Tower of London right on the spot.”
“Nah, he wouldn’t do that. He’d probably give you a stern dressing down, but he’d at the very least give you a chance to explain yourself to him. He may be the king, but he’s a reasonable man.”
“I’ll keep that in mind for the future.”
I settle for squeezing his hand and staring longingly into his hazel eyes. In this lighting, the flecks of gold remind me of a thousand fireflies.
When we finally make itto the flat, it’s around two. The roof repairs have been completed, and the windows have been replaced with efficient triple-glazed models. Work is at a standstill, however, until the foundation is sorted out. I tour the empty ground and first floors, and on the way out, remind the project manager to let me know when we’re ready to enter into the next phase.
“Arthur?” We’re walking side by side from the flat back to the car.
“Uh-oh, you used myfullname. What is it that you want from me?”
“Two things.”
“And those would be?”
“Would you be willing to help me choose some appliances and plan out how the kitchen will look?”
“Of course, I’d be happy to.” He chuckles. “What’s the second item?”
