by Molly Harper, Stephanie Haefner, Liora Blake, Gabra Zackman, Andrea Laurence, Colette Auclair
She waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, right, because those all have such stellar track records.”
“A private plane can make all the difference.”
She looked at him, her eyes wide, her mouth open. She shook her head slightly before she spoke. “If I work for Paul, there wouldn’t be time for a relationship even if we lived together.”
“Mm, lived together. I like the sound of that.” Maybe he wouldn’t have to work on her as hard as he’d thought if she was already thinking cohabitation.
She stood and paced, gesticulating as she went. “I’ll be working eighteen hours a day, and that’s when I’m in Georgia. Part of the year I’ll be showing in Europe. There are winter shows in Florida, California, and Arizona, then back East all spring and summer. A couple shows in the fall, like the Gold Cup and Washington. I’ll be doing clinics. It’s a crazy life. I won’t have anything left for . . . us.”
“I can deal with that, as long as you’re happy. Remember—private plane, flexible schedule. Besides, I’ll be working, too. It’s not as if I’ll be sitting at home in my apron, the casserole I made getting cold on the supper table.”
She smiled. “In the dark?”
Oh yes, she was pretty. “Pitch dark, and with a bottle of sherry.”
“You like sherry?”
“Some are quite good. But mostly it sounded like something a disgruntled 1950s housewife would drink. What I mean is, I don’t expect you to be at my beck and call. I know you need to train. I’m saying we can work something out. Plenty of working couples do just fine.”
She looked at him glumly. Then, in a dejected voice, said, “I don’t know.”
He got up and stood in front of her. “Then trust me.” He grinned and hauled her to her feet. “Okay, Vogel,” he said cheerfully. “Out you go.” He walked-pushed her to the door.
“What?”
“You can’t stay, remember? I’m making it easy on you. Now you don’t have to list all the reasons why we can’t sleep together. I’m kicking you out.”
“What if I want to stay?” She sounded a little wounded.
“I ate two dinners. It kills me to say this, but if we made love right now . . . let’s just say I wouldn’t have my A game. That’s not how I want our first time to be.”
“Who says there’s going to be a time at all?”
“Because I’m irresistible.”
She rolled her eyes. “Now I’m going to be sick.”
He smiled, looped his fingers through the belt loops of her jeans, pulled her to him, and put his arms around her. How he loved feeling her body, his arms around her. She turned her head and pressed it snugly against him.
After a moment she said somberly, “I don’t understand you.”
“You deserve to have good things happen.” He pressed his lips to her hair.
Surprising him, she pulled his head down and kissed him urgently, and he went right along with her.
“Maybe I should stay,” she said against his mouth.
“Definitely.”
“What about your A game?” She shoved her hands under his shirt and up his back. Her touch made it tough to think, not that he was doing very well in that arena anyway, since her mouth could dissolve all his thoughts in an instant.
“I just found it again.” In a husky voice, he added, “Do you know how much I’ve wanted to kiss you again?” His body hummed with sensations that seemed to spread through him like a forest fire that had started on his lips. He groaned and sank his fingers into her soft, thick hair, tilted her head back, and consumed her mouth, greedily seeking the heat there. She pulled him toward the bedroom and he let her lead him, his lips never leaving hers. He scooped her up and laid her on the mattress. He stretched out on his side next to her and resumed the kissfest.
He tasted and sipped her lips, then trailed kisses along her jaw to below her ear. She moaned softly. From there he traveled down her neck until he ran into her T-shirt. “You’re overdressed.”
Amanda pulled her shirt off. “Better?”
“Oh my.” He gazed at her lean torso and lacy black bra. She smiled and reached for him. He recommenced kissing her mouth before he nibbled along her neck, across both collarbones, then between her breasts. He groaned again. “Don’t move.” He jumped up and sprinted to the bathroom.
He dumped out the contents of his dopp kit on the floor and grabbed three condoms. He returned to the bed, placed the packets on the nightstand, and said, “Safety first!”
Amanda was on her stomach, arms and legs splayed, her head turned toward him. Asleep. The long, exhausting day, the meal, the wine and champagne had taken their toll.
“At least I get to sleep with you.” He sat on the bed and stroked her hair, then folded her T-shirt and set it on the nightstand. He got a blanket from the closet and unfurled it over her. He turned off the lights, settled in next to her, and pulled the blanket up to cover her bare shoulders.
How lucky he was. How lucky that she had forgiven him for his ridiculous jealousy. But fear still nagged at him. He wanted her to come to Los Angeles so badly, his teeth ached. She’d given him hope tonight when—unprompted—she’d mentioned living together, even if it was to point out the impossibility. She was serious about Paul, but she hadn’t committed. And Grady had an ace up his sleeve, which he would play tomorrow. With luck, that would seal the deal. If it didn’t . . . he’d do whatever it took to convince her. Because as he lay next to her, inhaling the flowery fragrance from her shampoo, feeling her warmth and marveling at her courage—if he wasn’t in love with her already, he was well on the way.
He fell asleep with his hand under the blanket on the soft skin of her back, thinking how he’d like to fall asleep like this every night.
Amanda woke at exactly five thirty in exactly the same position in which she had fallen asleep. Grady slept on his side, facing her, his leg across one of hers. She looked at his beautiful face. For the first time she could stare at him for as long as she wanted. She considered waking him, but panic flashed through her like a brushfire. If they had wake-up sex, boy, would it complicate things. She would be a wreck. It would make it that much harder to leave and work for Paul. She had to escape before her brain conjured visions of what Grady’s tongue would feel like . . . oh, just about anywhere.
She eased out of bed and wrote a note on the hotel notepad.
Had to feed your horses.
Sorry I was so dull in bed.
P.S. Thanks for dinner.
She placed it next to him on the bed, dressed, and slipped out of the room.
21
Beth and Amanda checked out of The Little Nell, then drove to Aspen Creek to tend the horses. Beth asked about Amanda’s evening, and Amanda tap danced around the question like Ginger Rogers. This wasn’t too difficult, because they had to pack up the barn, so there was a lot to do. She was grateful that Beth, Solstice, and Wave helped her, since concentrating was not exactly her strong suit today. She couldn’t stop thinking about Paul and Grady. Mostly Grady. Grady and his lips and hands and lips and eyes and tongue and lips and oh geez—his erection. It made her all twitchy. Oh, how she yearned to go see him. But there was no reason to. Maybe he’d come to the barn . . .
“So what happened last night?” Beth asked Amanda as they fed the horses dinner that afternoon. It was the first time they’d been alone.
Amanda felt herself redden. “Oh, you know. Dinner.” Her verbal tap-dancing skills were fading. Now she was 10 percent Ginger Rogers, 90 percent lummox.
“And . . . ?”
“And we, um, kissed.”
“Just kissed? Seeing as how you never made it home, Cinderella.”
“Just kissed. I, um, fell asleep. But the kissing was plenty.” She poured feed into Bramble’s bucket and inhaled the sweet, nutty smell.
“Are you still considering going to Paul’s?”
“It makes the most sense.”
“Grady couldn’t keep his hands off of you at the horse show. He’s crazy a
bout you! Grady Brunswick is crazy about you. Come on! He could be it. The one.”
Maybe. “But it’s Paul Reade.”
“Please. You’re so talented, it’s easier to find a trainer than a guy who loves you as though his life depended on it. And . . . I hate to be a wet saddle blanket, but you know Reade’s rep. He likes to sleep with his students. You know as well as I do he’ll give you more perks if you give him more . . . perks.”
The barn phone rang and Amanda was grateful for the interruption. It was Jacqueline, wanting to go over the horses’ shipping instructions. Amanda ran up to the house and met with her on the patio. Twenty minutes into the meeting, Jacqueline’s cell phone rang and she listened for a few seconds, then said, “We’ll be right down.” Jacqueline turned to Amanda. “There is a loose horse.”
“Shit!” Amanda jumped up. “Sorry,” she added, jogging through the house and out the front door, Jacqueline following.
Amanda ran down the hill to the barn, scanning the grounds for a horse, but she didn’t see anything. She ran into the barn where Beth was waiting. “They got her into the ring,” Beth said.
“Rainy? How’d she get out?”
“No idea.” Beth smiled and Amanda could practically see the canary’s feathers on her lips.
“What’s going on?” Amanda moved toward the closed door that led to the ring. Yanked it open. Stepped outside. An athletic, fit, dapple-gray horse stood in the ring, sniffing a jump. Amanda continued toward the mare, wondering where she had come from. Had a neighbor’s horse jumped the fence?
And then it hit her like a riding crop between the eyes.
Edelweiss.
Her Edelweiss.
“Oh!” She pressed her hand to her chest as her eyes and nose became hot and tears blurred her vision. She stumbled into the ring, barely remembering to close the gate. She stopped and the horse raised her head and pricked her ears, staring at Amanda. The mare’s whole body shook as she whinnied with flared nostrils, then trotted to Amanda, who cradled Edelweiss’s delicately sculpted head in her arms.
“Oh, sweet girl. I missed you. I missed you so much.” She inhaled the familiar tangy scent, stroked the mare’s glistening, solid neck and gently pulled her ears. Tears slid down her cheeks and neck, and her body shook with sobs as she raked her fingers through the mare’s silky mane. It was her girl, her friend, the horse she swore could read her mind. She had picked her out when the filly was just a two-year-old and bought her for a song because no one else had seen her potential. Amanda had not so much seen it as felt it. Their connection had been instantaneous. She couldn’t explain it, although Beth and Courtney had understood.
She had Edelweiss back. Her baby.
Finally she looked up to see Beth, Solstice, Wave, Jacqueline, Harris, and Grady gathered at the gate, smiling. She looked at them helplessly, unable to express everything she was feeling. She turned back to the mare and led her to the gate. “Come and meet everybody,” she croaked to her horse.
“We already met her!” Wave squeaked.
“You guys!” Amanda wiped her tears with the back of her hand. She looked at Beth. “Clearly, you are never to be trusted again.” Her gaze swept over Wave, Solstice, Harris, and Jacqueline. “Neither are any of you!”
Finally her liquid eyes settled on Grady. “And you . . . ” was all she could get out. The only thing she could think to do was to grab his hand. He squeezed back and pressed his lips together, causing her to cry a new round of tears.
As the story came out, Amanda learned that on the day of the party, Grady had asked Jacqueline to find the mare, and Jacqueline hit pay dirt when she called the emergency contact Amanda had listed when she was hired: Beth Fanelli. Beth was an eager go-between, since she knew who owned the horse. Solstice and Wave told Amanda how they hid the mare at a boarding stable earlier that afternoon. Even Harris knew about the scheme. Amanda listened to the cacophony of their stories and feared she’d faint from happiness.
“When you’re done with Silver there, cocktails are at seven,” Harris announced.
Harris and Jacqueline returned to the house, and Wave and Solstice helped Beth prepare a stall for Edelweiss.
Amanda and Grady stood on the concrete slab where they had danced. They faced each other and stared at the ground. Finally he asked, “Did I do the right thing?”
“Are you kidding? I don’t know what to say. ‘Thank you’ seems so . . . ” and she stopped because her eyes were filling again. “I can’t accept this, it’s too—”
“Well, I sure as hell don’t want her. But there’s plenty of room for her in LA, you know.” He took her hands.
“Is this why you’ve been avoiding me all day?”
“Yep. Afraid I’d blow it. I’m an actor, but I don’t trust myself where you’re concerned.”
“I was afraid you were mad at me for last night.”
“Why?”
“What didn’t happen.”
“I slept with you. We spent the night together.”
“Yeah, but I was asleep.”
“Don’t let it bother you. I, too, have had nights where I don’t remember a thing.”
She laughed.
He smiled and pulled her into his arms. “You do make me crazy, Amanda Vogel.”
“And here I thought you thought I was crazy.”
His lips got about halfway to hers when Wave galloped through the door to them, pretending she was riding a horse. “Whoa!” she said, and patted the imaginary equine’s neck. “Come see Edelweiss’s stall! We made a sign!”
Amanda was torn because she’d wanted that kiss. But Wave was so excited and, truthfully, Amanda itched to ride her mare.
“After you,” Grady said, gesturing toward the door. The stall looked like any of the other roomy, attractive stalls in the barn, but tacked to the front was a piece of paper with “Edelweiss” written in elaborate calligraphy beneath a crayon drawing of a white horse. Amanda was impressed that the girls had made the sign by hand and not on a computer. Solstice—who was currently obsessed with penmanship—had obviously written the name, and Wave had drawn the horse.
“It’s great! I love it!” Amanda said, and felt her throat closing again. “Thank you.” She hugged the girls, then said to Beth, “I’ve got to get on her.”
Beth grinned. “Which saddle?”
“None. But use Titanium’s bridle. It’s the French snaffle. Get it for me?”
Amanda groomed and tacked up the mare in three minutes. Securing her helmet, she led the mare to the ring, climbed onto the fence, and slid onto the horse’s bare back. For a moment she closed her eyes and sank her fingers into the mare’s mane, holding the crest of her neck. Her Edelweiss. They were together again. Her heart overflowed with gratitude.
“You’re gonna ride without a saddle?” Wave asked.
“Yep,” Amanda said, grinning. Wave, Solstice, Beth, and Grady stood watching her. “And I’m about to do something I don’t want any of you to ever do. Except for Beth.”
With that, she picked up a canter and headed her beloved mare toward the far end of the ring. The mare’s ears pricked and she soared over the fence as easily as if it were a twig and galloped into the pasture.
As Grady watched the jump, he worried she’d fall off. But it was Amanda, and jumping a solid four-and-a-half-foot fence bareback was child’s play. His concern gone, he inventoried this as one of the most joyful scenes he’d ever witnessed, watching a genuinely good person do what she loved most in life. The joy burrowed into his heart.
Yes, he was most definitely in love. Most definitely.
While Beth showered, Amanda sat in the sweet-smelling shavings in the corner of Edelweiss’s stall and watched her mare eat hay. She was thrilled to have her horse back, yes, but at what price? If she accepted this gift, was she obligated to move to California?
No. He was a good man, possibly the best she’d ever met. Edelweiss couldn’t be a ploy.
Satisfied, she stood, brushed shavings from her breeches, a
nd went upstairs. After she showered, she kept opening her apartment door to make sure the gray mare was still there.
Since nights were chilly now, Amanda wore jeans, a long-sleeved burgundy blouse, and took a jacket. At Beth’s urging, she applied smoky eye shadow, mascara, and Beth’s lip gloss, even though it felt goopy. She looked forward to and dreaded dinner; she wanted to spend the evening with these people who had become like family, but she hated the thought of not seeing them anymore. And Grady . . . he was in a category all his own.
“Please tell me you’re not still thinking of going to Paul’s. Remember Paige Fabricant? She broke up with him and he blackballed her for years. It got nasty. Yes, he’s arguably the best trainer in the country, but there’s a price. I’ll say it again—you don’t need the best trainer in the country to get to the Games. You are phenomenally talented, you have a crazy-great horse—you can do it with a good trainer. To be honest, you could probably do it alone. But where do lots of good trainers live? California.” Beth slipped into her sandals and sat on the coffee table facing Amanda, who was on the couch.
“My career has to come first.”
“Amanda. Your life has to come first. Courtney wanted to ride in the Olympics as much as any of us, but you know as well as I do, she’d be all up in your face to go with Grady. If you learned nothing else from what happened, it’s that life is short, and if you go to Paul’s and refuse Grady—even long-distance—not to be melodramatic, but you could miss out on the love of your life.”
Amanda’s stomach twisted and she felt her eyes heat up as though she were about to cry. To cry! Sheesh. “Maybe.”
“No maybe, Vogel. He got Edelweiss for you. No man buys a woman a horse unless he means business. And he was so cute about it, he kept asking me if I thought you’d be happy—he was nervous as hell. Besides, there’s no guarantee you’ll get to the Olympics with Paul, and there’s no guarantee you won’t with another trainer. Go to LA, wouldja?
During the cocktail hour on the patio, Grady sipped his martini, saving his customary five olives for last. He was content to listen to the conversation, which Harris predictably monopolized, and to look at Amanda often. Although he loved having dinner with everyone, tonight he wished it were just the two of them because he really wanted to kiss that seldom-seen lip gloss right off her lips. Even after playing his ace, Edelweiss, he still worried Amanda would leave. In fact, he’d been working out the logistics of living in Georgia part-time. He sipped the icy gin and joined the discussion rather than wallow in thoughts of her possible departure.