by Elle Thorpe
“Well? Have you?”
“Who are you, Low? My keeper? How is that any of your business?” I shrugged him off, and he let go of me, stepping backwards. “I don’t need you slut shaming me.”
“Slut shame—” His eyes widened, and he held his hands up in surrender. “Shit, Reese, I’m not! I swear, I…” He paced back and forth, the dirt of the paddock floating up in clouds around his shoes. He came to a halt, his eyes boring into mine. “You’re right, you’re right. God, I can’t believe I said that. I’m sorry. It really isn’t my business.”
I folded my arms across my chest. “I’m no worse than you.”
“Agreed. If anyone gets an award for sleeping around here, it’s me. It’s just… I’m just worried about you, that’s all. I only wanted to make sure you were safe.”
My shoulders relaxed a little. “I’m a big girl, Low. I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time now. I don’t need you or anyone else looking out for me.”
He sighed, and I let the subject drop. One minute he was sweet and kind, the next minute he was a standoffish jerk. And yet, no matter how he acted, or how many times I told myself we were just friends, the sexual attraction between us was there, always bubbling below the surface.
Frustration simmered in my blood. Just as we’d been getting close, just as I thought we’d reached some common ground where we could share thoughts that went deeper than what our favourite pizza toppings were, he went cold. And just like that, I was again no longer certain where we stood. The only thing I was certain of was I’d done enough sharing for one afternoon.
11
Reese
Low walked me home after we left the racecourse. We walked in silence, both lost in our own thoughts. He kissed me on the cheek in a brotherly fashion at the door to my building, and I didn’t invite him in. I wasn’t angry, but I was still annoyed. I needed time alone to process.
I dumped my bag on the nearest packing box, poured myself a glass of wine, and sank into the lounge I’d bought second-hand online. It was old and threadbare but comfortable. I grabbed the stack of Post-it notes on my coffee table and doodled on them, while I let the drone of reality TV repeats calm my thoughts. When the third episode of Deadliest Catch finished, I realised I’d been doodling Low’s name over and over. Sighing, I ripped the note off, crumpled it into a ball, and pitched it across the room. I was ridiculous.
My phone buzzed from over on the packing box. I eyed it, the message tone pinging. After my dad had kicked me out, I’d left my phone on the nightstand of my childhood bedroom. I hadn’t wanted it. I didn’t want to deal with people ringing to get the gossip about Gemma. I’d welcomed the clean slate a new number and a new home brought me. But leaving everything and everyone behind and starting over meant for a long time, no one, apart from the occasional telemarketer called me.
Until I’d lost my mind for a minute that first day at the racetrack and called my dad. His return calls had tapered off when I’d refused to answer any of them. But he’d never sent a text message. He’d always been old school like that. I wasn’t even sure he knew how. But maybe it was my mum? Or my sister? Had he told them he suspected I’d tried to call them? I bit my thumbnail as I berated myself yet again for calling him in the first place. I couldn’t bear it if this message was more of the hate he’d spewed at me in the hospital.
Reminding myself it could just as easily be an SMS from the bank or the woman who waxed my eyebrows, I picked up the phone and took it back to the lounge with me. I hit the little green message icon and breathed a sigh of relief when I didn’t recognise the number. Not my parents.
I was out of line before. I’m sorry.
I frowned at it. The phone buzzed in my hand again.
It’s Low, by the way. I got your number from your staff file.
I rolled my eyes. Of course he did. The heir to the racecourse throne would have access to everyone’s personal information, wouldn’t he? I wanted to be annoyed about the invasion of privacy, heir or not, but I didn’t have it in me. In a display of girly-ness I was too old for, I let a little thrill shoot through me. He’d gone out of his way to get my number.
It’s fine, don’t worry about it. My thumb hovered over the send button before I pushed it.
It buzzed back within seconds.
It’s not. I want to make it up to you. Can I call you?
My stomach flipped, and I ran a hand through my hair. Then I shook my head at my foolishness. It’s not like he could see my hair all flat from lying on the lounge for the past three hours. My phone rang before I’d even composed a reply.
“Hello?”
“Hey.” His voice was deep and sexy as hell. My heartbeat picked up. I hoped I wasn’t breathing heavily into the phone because I was suddenly out of breath.
“Can you go out on your balcony?”
I paused. “Uh, yeah, I guess. Why?”
Standing up, I padded in bare feet over to the glass sliding door. I unlocked it and stepped out onto the cool tiles of the little balcony and grasped the metal rail. My apartment wasn’t high, being on the third floor, but there weren’t many other high-rises around, so I had a nice view.
I hadn’t realised how late it had gotten while I’d been watching trash TV. The streetlights cast little circles of light, and the moon was almost full. The breeze blew around me, the temperature balmy. I loved nights like this, when the coolness of spring gave way, and a hint of summer came through on the breeze. I didn’t even need a jacket out here tonight. It was perfect.
“Look over to your left,” Low said in my ear.
The racetrack and stables were closed for the night, but there were still lights placed at intervals around the edge of the property. I scanned the track, wondering what I was looking for. Then underneath a light, in the paddock where I sneaked in each morning to see Mabel, something moved. I squinted, as the something waved at me.
“Is that you under the light? What are you doing?”
He moved closer to the centre of the light. He was sitting on Lijah’s back, the horse’s dark form standing quiet and patient, waiting for an order from him.
“Can you come back down here?” he asked, his tone polite. “Please? There’s something I should have told you before, instead of flipping out at you. I want to explain.” He went quiet and I could hear him breathing.
His horse whinnied. “Lijah says she misses you.”
A grin pulled at the corner of my mouth. “Tell Lijah I only saw her a few hours ago. And that I need ten minutes. I’m still in my uniform.”
“We’ll wait.”
I hung up without saying goodbye, then slipped back into the apartment. I took a deep breath, in an attempt to calm down. Friends. Friends. Friends. I stopped and scrawled it in block letters on a Post-it, ripped it off, and slapped it to the door hard enough to leave my palm stinging. “Friends. Friends. Friends,” I chanted as I slipped on a pair of jeans, my boots, and a T-shirt. I flicked my head upside down, fluffing up my hair, then flicked it back, watching it fall over my shoulders.
I was ready and out the door of my apartment in less than nine minutes. My strides were long and quick, and I told myself I was in a rush because the deserted street was dark and kind of creepy. It had nothing to do with wanting to see Low again.
He was waiting where I’d seen him from the balcony. Lijah wore only a bridle around her head, her back bare underneath Low’s denim-clad thighs. They stood right outside of Mabel’s paddock, and she came trotting over as soon as she saw me. I gave Low an apologetic smile and stopped, rubbing Mabel’s soft neck.
“Hey, Mabel, two visits from me in one day, huh? Sorry I didn’t bring you a treat this time.”
Low chuckled. “Her name is Buttercup. And how did you even get in here? I was going to open the gate for you.” He peered into the darkness of the fence.
“There’s a gap. And Buttercup? Seriously? That doesn’t suit her at all.” I snorted.
Low shrugged.
“Well, I’m
still going to call her Mabel,” I huffed. Buttercup was a stupid cliché of a name. I climbed up on the fence so I’d be closer to Low’s height while he was on Lijah’s back.
“So you know Buttercup here, do you?” he asked.
I shot him a look, and he held his hands up in mock surrender.
“Sorry, sorry, I mean Mabel.”
I couldn’t help but laugh a little. He was cute.
“I shouldn’t be telling you this, since you’ll own this place someday, but yeah, I sneak in on my way to work. She’s so beautiful and friendly. I can’t help myself.”
“Do you want to ride her?”
My smile fell. “I don’t ride, remember?”
He sighed and shook his head. “Because you’re punishing yourself. Right?”
I looked away, glad it was dark out here. He slid off Lijah and walked her over to the gate that opened into Mabel’s paddock. I watched him, trying not to stare at his ass as he walked away. He’d also gotten changed, and we’d ended up wearing similar clothes, though his T-shirt was black, while mine was white.
He unlatched the gate and slipped inside, leading Lijah behind him. Mabel trotted over and greeted them both with enthusiastic horse noises. I smiled. She looked so happy to have company, even at this late hour.
Low came back over to where I sat on the fence and perched beside me, watching the two horses frolic around together in the dark.
“I want to say something. Again. Even though I know you don’t want to hear it. What happened wasn’t your fault, Reese. No matter what your family thinks. You’re punishing yourself unnecessarily.”
Easy for him to say. He hadn’t been there. He hadn’t been the one to watch his baby sister lie in a crumpled, broken heap on the ground. He hadn’t been there when that doctor had said she’d probably never walk again.
I shook my head. “I can’t,” I whispered.
Lijah trotted over to us, and Low climbed on her back from the height of the fence, making it look effortless, despite the lack of saddle.
“Okay. You don’t have to ride, but I’m going to. This night is too beautiful to not be on horseback.”
I wanted to melt into a puddle on the ground. Low on horseback, bareback of all things, was like a cowboy fantasy come true. He only needed the hat and spurs.
He let Lijah walk where she pleased, the reins held lightly, his hands resting on his thighs. He sat tall, but his shoulders were relaxed, his features calm as Lijah trotted around the paddock. A tiny smile ghosted his lips.
I envied him. I’d had so little peace or contentment in my life since the accident. I was highly strung all the time; I never got a break. It was why I drank and why I had a lot of sex. They were my only ways to switch off. But maybe he had another way. I hadn’t ridden a horse in almost a year now and every part of me ached to get back on. It was only my damn head that told me not to.
Mabel came over and rubbed herself against me. I scratched her behind the ears and ran my hands down her glossy neck, patting her shoulder. God, she was beautiful. It would be so easy to just slide onto her back.
Low was watching me, his gaze intent. “We don’t have to go far. We’ll just let them walk around the paddock.”
I bit my lip and clenched my fingers around the wood beneath my ass to stop them from trembling. My head screamed I didn’t deserve this, that I didn’t get to do things like this anymore. But my heart wanted it.
I swung my leg and laid myself on Mabel’s back, patting her neck and murmuring soothing words in her ear. Her coat was smooth and warm under my palms, and I spent a moment concentrating on the way her bones and muscles moved ever so slightly beneath me. I breathed deeply as I sat up and used her mane and my leg muscles to steady myself.
Low grinned at me like the Cheshire cat. A smile twitched at my mouth.
“Come on, let’s go.” He let Lijah lead the way, and I nudged Mabel to follow. After a few laps around the large paddock, Lijah broke into a trot.
“I thought we were just walking!” I called as Mabel changed gaits with no encouragement from me. My heart rate doubled as the breeze blew in my face. Trotting bareback wasn’t all that comfortable, the movement jarring without the support of a saddle and stirrups, but it was exhilarating. Goosebumps pricked at my arms as we moved along the edges of the fence line and the horses went faster, enjoying the free rein we’d given them. Low’s grin spread wide across his face when I looked over at him.
“Are you okay?” he yelled.
“Amazing!” Blood thrummed through my body as the horses broke into a gallop. It was only for a few strides, the paddock not big enough for any more, but it was enough. I held on to Mabel’s coarse mane for dear life, but I didn’t want it to stop. The rush of the speed, and the power of the animal beneath me…there was nothing else like it. It topped getting drunk and getting off any day. God, I’d missed this.
Low pulled Lijah to a halt, and Mabel pulled up next to them. I was breathless and giddy and I’m sure my hair looked like a windblown mess. But I didn’t care. I grinned at him, with adrenaline pumping through my veins. My eyes dropped to his mouth. Damn, I wanted to kiss him so much.
“I don’t understand you, Low. You’re such an asshole sometimes, but then you do something like this and make me want to…” I bit my lip.
Low’s eyes dropped and his gaze grew heated.
“What do I make you want to do?” he asked, his voice husky.
Heat pooled low in my belly. What I wanted to do was decidedly un-friend like. But I didn’t care about only being his friend anymore. Had I ever?
He leant towards me and a thrill shot straight through me, my nipples tightening. He wanted this too, and it was now or never. The horses wouldn’t stand like this forever. I closed the gap between us and pressed my lips against his. His mouth was soft and warm and yielded to mine. My lips tingled, sending sparks of pleasure through my body. With my fingers woven loosely into Mabel’s mane, I leant in farther, desperate to deepen the kiss, to feel his mouth open to mine, to feel my chest pressed against his. But instead, the pressure of his lips vanished, and my eyes flew open as Lijah moved. I swayed into the widening gap between us.
“Shit!” I squeaked out, grasping for Mabel’s mane and desperately trying to gain traction with my thighs.
I was going to fall.
Low’s arm shot out as he reached for me. He wrapped his fingers around the arm of my shirt as I slid, but it was too little, too late.
I hit the dirt, stumbling before falling on my ass, then laughed as Low’s other arm wheeled, my fall putting him off. He tried to regain his balance on the horse’s back to no avail and landed in a pile beside me with a thump.
He groaned from his awkward looking position. “You okay?”
I pushed myself to sitting and looked down at him lying next to me, unable to stop the laughs racking my body. “I’m fine. I did tell you I can take care of myself, you know. But thanks for trying to save me. Sorry you went down in the process.”
He propped himself up on one elbow. I was fascinated as that tiny hint of dimple appeared in his cheek, and I couldn’t help but tease him further.
“Are there security cameras out here? I’d like to see the video replay of that.”
“Yeah, I bet you would. A bit of warning next time before you launch yourself at me, huh, Reese?” He was joking, but a blush began to heat my cheeks.
“I didn’t launch myself at you,” I lied. “I fell.” It was a stupid thing to say, but it was embarrassing how badly that had gone.
“I liked it. Maybe next time I’ll push you off, if it means we end up kissing again.”
He sucked his bottom lip a tiny bit, as if tasting the brief kiss we’d shared. His face changed from joking to intense in a heartbeat and heat rose within me.
I brushed the dirt and grass off my palms. Maybe I needed to be more direct. With words this time, instead of actions.
“I want you to kiss me again.”
It wasn’t a whisper, but
it wasn’t much louder. He was staring at me with those deep blue eyes. His gaze dropped to my lips and back again, and he sat up, pushing himself onto his knees so he hovered just above my cross-legged form. His eyes burned, our gazes locked as he reached out a hand, letting it drift across my cheek to the back of my neck, burying it in my hair. My breath hitched. He tugged me forward, and I went willingly. I rocked forward on my legs as he leant down to meet me. His other arm came around my waist, pulling me close against him. My skin tingled in every place he touched me.
Our lips hovered centimetres apart, our breath mingling. It had to come from him this time. I refused to make the first move yet again. His fingers dropped to my hips and squeezed as he let out an agonised groan. “I want to. I want to so bad, but I shouldn’t.”
I shook my head. “You really should.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
He gripped my hips tighter and lifted me until I was straddled across his lap. I scrambled closer, locking my legs around his waist so we were face to face, chest to chest, hip to hip. His hard-on pressed into me.
Restraint forgotten, he closed the gap between us and pressed his lips softly to mine. I responded, opening and allowing him access as my fingers ran through his hair, our mouths exploring each other, taking our time. I tried to keep myself from grinding down on him, the temptation agonising with the ache in my core driving me on.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” he murmured against my lips, but he didn’t pull away when I ignored him and moved in to kiss him again. I didn’t care he was technically my boss. Plus, we’d already done a lot more than this; it was a bit late for we shouldn’t be doing this.
I pressed my chest to his, unable to get close enough and his cock kicked in his pants beneath me. I moaned as he pressed his hips towards mine. I wanted more. More of his mouth, more of his body, more of the way his hands held me tight to him. The kiss became deeper and more frenzied, and my hormones kicked in, flooding my body. I ran my hands down his sides and found my way back up underneath his shirt, delighting at the smooth skin and hard abdomen under my fingers. His skin prickled everywhere I touched him.