5. Tater Tot #2
Kellan laughed, his hand still resting on my leg, steadying me. “Relax your hips. Let them move with him when we start walking.”
“Bold of you to assume I know how to move my hips.” I immediately regretted the choice of words when his eyes darkened.
“I’d be happy to give private lessons on that too.” He cleared his throat and smoothly pivoted back to instructor mode. “Heels down, back straight. There you go.”
Kellan led Tater Tot forward a few steps, and I clung to the saddle horn like I was about to fall to my death. “I’m riding a horse!”
“You are.” As Kellan led us in a slow circle around the arena, I gradually loosened my death grip on the saddle. Tater Tot’s rhythmic movement beneath me became less terrifying and more soothing.
Well, at least for the first few minutes before my inner thighs started to protest.
Tater Tot plodded along steadily, his massive hooves thumping against the arena’s sandy surface. After twenty minutes, my initial terror had transformed into something else entirely—pain. Pure, unadulterated agony in muscles I hadn’t even known existed.
“How are you doing?” Kellan’s voice carried that hint of amusement that told me he knew exactly how I was doing.
“Great,” I lied through gritted teeth. “Are my legs supposed to be slowly separating from my hip sockets? Because that’s what it feels like is happening.”
He patted Tater Tot’s neck. “That means you’re using the right muscles. Think you can go for another five minutes?”
“Five minutes?” I groaned. “My future grandchildren will feel this pain. It’s going to be embedded in my genetic code. But yes, I can survive.”
Kellan guided us through several more circles, occasionally instructing me to sit up straighter or sink my weight into my heels.
By the end, I’d managed to navigate Tater Tot in a wobbly figure eight without Kellan holding the lead rope.
It was hardly Olympic-level equestrian work, but the sense of accomplishment made me grin like I’d won gold.
“Ready to dismount?” Kellan positioned himself beside Tater Tot, his hands reaching up toward me.
I nodded enthusiastically. “More ready than I’ve ever been for anything in my life.”
“Kick your right foot out of the stirrup, swing your leg over his back, and slide down. I’ll catch you.”
Dismounting went about as gracefully as expected. I swung my leg over, slid down the side of the mountain horse, and my knees buckled the instant my feet hit the ground. Kellan caught me by the elbows, steadying me as my legs trembled like a newborn foal’s.
“Sweet mother of mercy,” I moaned, dramatically staggering to the nearest bench and collapsing onto it. “This is it. This is how I die. Tell my story.”
Kellan handed me a water bottle. “Most people aren’t used to using those muscle groups. You’ll be sore tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” I took a long drink. “I’m sore right now. I think my thighs have been through a meat grinder. Is that normal? Did I do something wrong?”
“No, you did pretty well for your first time.” He sat beside me, his knee lightly brushing against mine. “Good posture, you listened to instructions, and you didn’t panic when Tater decided to snort at that fly.”
“Only because I was too busy concentrating on not falling off to notice the dinosaur noises he was making.”
Tater Tot chose that moment to let out a massive, rumbling fart, followed by a grin. Kellan and I looked at each other for a split second before bursting into laughter.
I stretched my legs out in front of me with a wince. “I would literally kill someone for access to a hot bath right now. My cabin only has a shower.”
Something shifted in Kellan’s expression, and it sent warmth crawling up my neck. “You know, the main house has a hot tub on the back deck. You’re welcome to use it anytime.”
“Right, I’ll just come barging into your house and commandeer your hot tub.” My amusement died when I realized he wasn’t smiling in a joking way. “Wait, are you serious?”
“Dead serious.” His eyes held mine a beat longer than necessary. “It’s got jets that would work wonders on sore muscles. And the view at sunset is something else… around eight.”
The suggestion hung in the air between us. It was friendly on the surface, but with currents running beneath that made my pulse quicken.
“That’s...” I swallowed, suddenly very aware of how close we were sitting and how his eyes seemed to darken as they studied my face. “That’s really nice of you to offer.”
“I’m a really nice guy.” The corner of his mouth lifted in a half-smile that wasn’t completely nice in intention.
I gave him a look that I hoped conveyed both my interest and my hesitation. “I bet you are.”
The moment stretched between us. His eyes dropped briefly to my lips before returning to meet my gaze, and I found myself leaning slightly toward him without consciously deciding to do so.
“Kellan!” Enzo’s voice called from across the arena, shattering the moment. “Phone call! It’s that reporter from Western Living Magazine!”
Kellan blinked, then sighed. “Be right there!” He turned back to me with a rueful smile. “Duty calls. Think about the hot tub, though. The offer stands.”
He stood, brushed invisible dust from his jeans, and gave me a look that suggested he very much hoped I would take him up on his invitation.
“I’ll see you later, Quinn.” The way my name rolled off his tongue sent a pleasant shiver down my spine.
I watched him walk away, trying and failing not to notice how well he filled out his jeans. “See you,” I called belatedly, my voice embarrassingly breathless.
I forced myself to stand, wincing as my battered muscles protested.
The walk back to my cabin was slow and painful, but my mind wasn’t on my physical discomfort.
Instead, I was caught in a mental tug-of-war between the sensible part of me that knew getting involved with anyone right now was a terrible idea and the increasingly vocal part that wanted to see exactly what Kellan Brooks looked like in a hot tub at sunset.
“It’s just a hot tub,” I muttered to myself as I limped along the path. “For therapeutic purposes only.”
Even I didn’t believe that for a second.