Five
Annabeth
Idon’t remember my jeans being quite so tight, I think to myself as I wiggle my ass into the unforgiving denim.
I really needed to get back to the gym, or start doing cardio…
Speaking of cardio, when did I last get laid?
Why am I thinking about this right now? Oh yeah, that damn cowboy, and his damn smile.
Thankfully, I’ve managed to get out of chaperoning the sleep-away camp, so I have two whole weeks of nothing but sun, sleep, and the saddle. It’s not that I don’t adore my class, or my job, I just hate sharing cabins with the other teachers.
Did I mention that they make the teachers participate in the shitty activities they come up with at those things? They are truly my worst nightmare – well actually, being mauled by the imaginary shark that lives in my toilet is my worst nightmare. Don’t ask.
School camps would have to come in a close second for shit that terrifies me. The food always sucks, the rooms always have shitty spring mattresses, you can’t drink wine, and I couldn’t risk trusting Ella to actually go and check on my horse, Milo.
The woman is brilliant, of course, but reliable?
Definitely not. She also knows next-to-nothing about horses, and the idea of her fumbling around trying to figure out how to loop Milo’s rug straps correctly, or how to mix his feed, makes me giggle.
I can almost hear her calling me mid-scoop to ask why the hell I was feeding my horse sunflower seeds, and her proceeding to ask me if I thought he was a bird.
Truthfully, I am very content with staying at home, sleeping on my expensive mattress, playing my guitar, and keeping my sanity. I have a hot date with my bubble bath and a few bottles of wine. Might get really wild and throw in a face mask or two. Self-care, ya know?
It’s Ella’s birthday this weekend, she’s working – as always – so we’re heading out after her shift for karaoke and cocktails.
Which means I have the entire day to hang out with Milo.
I haven’t had a break since I moved here.
Granted, I moved during the school holidays, so technically I’ve only been working for a few months, but adjusting to a new town is hard.
I’m restless and itching to hit the trails.
My bonding time with Milo of late has consisted of grooming and water fights – yes, water fights.
He has a thing with hoses and apparently thinks it’s utterly hilarious to flick his tail during bath time so the hose sprays me in the face.
Finally managing to pull my jeans over my hips, I breathe a sigh of relief as the zip glides closed in one, fluid motion.
Thank god. I collapse onto the bed, reaching for my fluffy, pink socks, letting my eyes wander over to the trusty Ariats that are resting against my duvet.
My boots, unlike my jeans, slip on with ease, and the feeling of the well-worn leather against the denim feels like coming home.
Rising from the bed, I run my fingers through my hair and reach for the top shelf of my wardrobe, pulling my hat from its perch and placing it on my head. One final glance in the mirror and I’m scrambling out the front door, climbing into my ute, cranking the radio, and heading to the farm.
We’ve barely scratched the surface of the property when I feel my smart watch vibrate. I glance down to check the incoming message. Ella. I roll my eyes, hearing her voice in my head as I read the text.
Ella: It’s almost show time, BABY! *winky face emoji*
Me: Woohoo, can hardly wait. Piss off, I’m busy. Love you.
Ella: Love you bby xoxo
Her reply earns her another eye roll before I return my gaze to the wide-open paddock in front of me.
The wind picks up and Milo shivers as it rips through his body and electrifies him.
Horses are so in tune to the weather; the slightest breeze can turn even the most even-tempered horse into an absolute maniac.
Not Milo though, he just lets the wind course through his mane and ignite a spring in his step that is otherwise reserved for shows.
He prefers to take our trails slowly. Even in his youth, he was never reckless, always listening to my guidance from the saddle.
I truly could not have asked for a better partner.
I nudge my heels into his side, encouraging him to change his gait as we move into a steady trot, making our way up the embankment beneath us.
He shakes his head, his mane flowing freely in the wind.
I feel him come alive beneath me. His muscular frame moves with strategic precision, every stride deliberate, every breath calculated.
He may be getting on in age, but Milo has, and always will be, the best horse I’ll ever own.
As a pair, we’re completely unstoppable.
He’s so in tune to me; it’s as if he knows my commands before I make them.
I remember our first ever event, I was more nervous than a sinner in a church.
Not Milo though. He took that course in his stride like it was built for him, manoeuvring himself through the obstacles with ease.
I was essentially a dead-weight plonked on his back, rather than his rider guiding him through it.
We are nearing the river now, so we pick up the pace, reaching the crest of the hill before I gave him the go-ahead. He moves into a canter, and we speed down the underside of the embankment, leaving everything and everyone behind us.
Milo’s head snaps back to stare at me as I loosen his girth-strap.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I say, scowling at him.
I close the gap between us, reaching for the reins with one hand, the other outstretched towards his neck.
My palm rests against his short, flea-bitten coat and gently scratches the sweet spot under his mane.
His withers quiver at my touch and he lets out a pleased nicker as I glide the bridle from his face.
The creak of the barn door opening throws me for a loop, and my head whirls around, cracking against the beam that holds my saddle. “Ow, fuck!” I squeal, clutching the point of impact.
“Whoa, easy now, darlin’. Didn’t mean to startle you,” comes a deep, rough voice from behind me.
I turn on my heels and come face to face with Dallas Northlane.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I ask, my voice coming out more aggressive than expected.
“I could ask you the same thing,” he replies with a chuckle.
He must sense my confusion, because he barely takes a breath before adding, “Annabeth, this is Northbrook Ranch… I’m Dallas Northlane.”
Oh. Fuck. Me.
I’m trying to muster up the kahunas to snap back that nobody would have bloody assumed that the North portion of those names could be connected, when he continues to speak.
“Here, let me help,” he offers, taking the bridle I forgot I was holding before hanging it on one of the hooks above me.
“Thanks, Mr. Northlane,” I reply, sheepishly.
“God, I’m not that old. Dallas is fine,” he says, flashing me that damn smile that sends a rush of heat to my centre. Get it together, woman.
“Billie mentioned that you rode.”
I can’t help but giggle at the unintentional innuendo. I cock my eyebrow, smirking at him. He immediately realises what he’s said and scrambles to confirm he was talking about the horses. “I’m sure you were, cowboy,” I taunt, a wicked smile threatening to escape my lips.
Again, get it the fuck together, Annabeth.
Dallas helps me tidy up the tack-shed, whistling to himself as he sweeps the floor of the barn.
I’m locking the door – trying to move quickly so I can escape the prison of my mind that’s now fixated on Dallas – and, of course, the key gets stuck in the lock.
My hands break free, and I stumble backwards.
I’m two-seconds away from falling on my ass into the dirt when suddenly I land against a solid frame.
“Careful, darlin’,” Dallas exclaims.
His arms are wrapped around me just beneath my breasts.
His legs held firmly in place as he catches me.
I wriggle in his embrace, but he hasn’t quite let go, so all I’ve done is turn myself around to face him completely.
Our noses are so close they’re almost touching, well, they would be if he wasn’t almost an entire foot taller than me.
Heat rushes to my cheeks and wetness begins pooling between my thighs. The smell of coffee and cigarettes lingers on his breath. His tongue peeks from behind his teeth, coating his bottom lip slightly before returning to his mouth. I can’t help but wonder what it would be like to bite that lip.
“Oh god, thank you. The damn lock got stuck and I—”
He cuts me off mid-sentence. “It’s okay, Annabeth. I’ve got you.”
And fuck me absolutely sideways did those words make me feral.
I’m screwed. Not only do I teach his daughter, but apparently, I also keep my horse at his property, and all I can think about is climbing the 6’4”, completely off-limits cowboy in front of me like a fucking tree.
Not sure if either of us realise that we’ve been in this bizarre almost-cuddle for perhaps far longer than would be considered appropriate, but neither of us make any steps to move.
After what feels like an eternity, I slowly try to unravel myself from him.
His grip tightens ever so slightly, and electricity radiates through my body.
“Are you okay?” he asks, his expression serious and completely unreadable.
“Yes,” I murmur.
He lifts one hand slowly from where it sits in the small of my back, reaching it to my cheek and brushes a loose strand of hair from my face, tucking it behind my ear.
“I’m glad. Otherwise, I would think you were out here falling for me,” he quips.
A devilish and irresistibly sexy smirk creeps over his mouth and he – seemingly reluctantly – releases me from our almost-cuddle.
Dallas looks incredibly pleased with himself. I just scowl at him, reaching for the closest item – a fly-veil – and whacking him with it. His laugh erupts from deep within his belly. It’s full and hearty, and the sound makes me weak at the knees.
“Look out Hawks Hollow, she’s a feisty one.”
“Oh, shut up,” I scowl again.
His expression stills for a moment, and I can feel his eyes following me as I continue closing the barn door.
We close the gates in silence, making our way back towards the carport.
Dallas escorts me back to my ute, although, it looks more like a pile of shit next to his.
He opens my door, tilting the brim of his hat in a subtle, but respectful gesture.
I slide into my seat, and before I can open my mouth to say goodbye and thank him for helping me – and catching me, as it were – he cuts in. “It was nice bumping into you today, even if you did almost knock yourself out. Twice.”
“The pleasure is all mine,” I add with a wink.
“I’ll see you soon,” he says. The words escape his lips and enter the world like a promise, more so than a simple parting statement.
Without as much as a second glance, he’s closing my door and walking back down the dusty driveway. Leaving me sitting in my car confused, aroused, and completely fucked.
I think I’m into Dallas Northlane.
No, I know I’m into Dallas Northlane.