12. No. 12 Ride a horse
twelve
August
This is a bad idea. I’ve made up for my shitty behaviour, I don’t need to do anything more for Bea, and should be keeping a distance.
As much as I pushed her away and told her I didn’t want her, I do.
God help me, I do want her. Which is exactly why I shouldn’t be at her front door early in the morning, ready to spend more time with her.
But apparently, I’m a slut for punishment because I just can’t seem to stay away.
I’m determined to stay strong though, nothing can happen between me and Bea, I will not be the heart of Port Doone’s gossip, and I will not get involved with someone from the village… again.
Despite my reservations, I knock on Bea’s door, hoping she’s up.
When the door swings open, my breath catches in my throat, and my eyes bug out of their sockets.
A makeup free Bea stands in front of me, her bubble-gum pink hair piled messily atop of her head, her kind of mean black cat curled around her neck like a travel pillow.
She’s wearing a ribbed white tank top that stretches over her tits in a way that makes it painfully obvious she’s not wearing a bra, the protrusion of her tight little nipples testing both the stability of the fabric and my waning willpower.
The oversized, fluffy cardigan she wears has dropped off one shoulder, showing the creamy skin there, her pyjama shorts have cartoon coffee cups on them, and the smooth skin of her thighs is incredibly inviting.
Her feet are covered by fluffy socks in pink and yellow stripes, one is pulled up straight, all the way to her knee, but the other has slouched down to her shin.
Her lips form a perfect ‘o,’ clearly surprised to see me at her door after I walked away from her the other day, and in the hand not holding the open door, a steaming mug that says ‘Read books, have morals.’
“Hi,” she says, a little breathy, a shy smile tipping up the side of her mouth.
“Hi,” I practically choke out the word, my eyes still roaming over her body. Why do they keep dipping to those ridiculous socks?
I realise she’s probably waiting for me to say more as I’m the one who knocked on her door, so I give myself a mental slap on the cheek to snap me out of the hypnosis she seems to have put me under.
“I uh…are you busy today?” I say, trying to force my face into something neutral and sending a prayer into the universe that she didn’t notice me practically drooling over her.
“I have the coffee machine repair guy coming later this afternoon. Why?” She tilts her head kind of adorably and her cat meows in protest.
“I wanted to take you somewhere.” Her eyes widen and I stutter to clarify. “Not like a date, like a surprise. I mean, I think you’ll like it. It’s just a thing…from your list. I wanted to, uh, help.” Stop talking, you almighty nincompoop.
Her sunshine smile lights up her whole face. “Really?”
“Yeah,” I croak, the badness of this idea growing like a balloon ready to pop.
“Um, okay. Come in.” She steps aside and I slide against the door jam in an attempt to keep as much distance between us as possible. “You want a coffee?”
“No, thank you.” I look around the downstairs room, purposefully avoiding glimpses of smooth thighs or fluffy socks. “We best make a move if you want to get back for your coffee machine repair guy.”
“Okay,” she chirps and takes a large gulp of her coffee before placing her mug in the sink. The cat gives up trying to hold on and jumps down to the counter in front of me, staring with unimpressed yellow eyes. Bea practically runs up the stairs, and my heart jumps up to my throat.
“Don’t slip!” I shout out of instinct.
She stops halfway up the stairs and smiles at me over her shoulder before kicking a foot up behind her. “It’s okay, they have grippies, see?”
Not knowing what the hell grippies are but knowing I don’t want to inspect her too closely, I just nod and turn away to the sound of her thudding footsteps. Bad idea, this is such a bad idea.
“Oh,” Bea breathes, less excited and more nervous than I was expecting.
“Oh?” I look down at her to see her wringing her hands in front of her, her bottom lip pinched tight between her teeth.
“I don’t know what I was expecting,” she says quietly, and I get this sinking feeling in my gut that this was an even bigger mistake than I initially thought.
“You don’t have to,” I say, trying not to let my voice show how dejected I am.
Bea steps forward, hand held flat for the horse to snuffle at her palm. Joey is a gentle giant according to my old school friend, Nat, who runs the riding school. He is chestnut brown with a white face and black mane that shines in the sun when he shakes his head.
“He is very beautiful,” Bea says, tentatively stroking the animal’s long nose.
“He is,” Nat says. Nat’s been riding horses since she could sit up by herself. We weren’t close at school or anything, but we were friendly. She’s nice and we stop to chat on the rare occasion we cross paths. “And I promise he’ll take good care of you.”
“It’s okay, sunshine,” I say. “If you’re too scared—”
Bea whirls on me, outrage darkening the sky of her eyes. With one hand on a hip, the other points at me accusingly. “Excuse me sir, but I am scared of creepy crawlies and pooping in public restrooms. I’ll give anything else a go.”
I’m frozen in place, unsure what to do with that. “Public restrooms?” I ask.
“Yeah, I don’t like the idea of people hearing me do that, then you’ve got hygiene issues and of course, increased risk of toilet snakes,” she says without a hint of joking.
“Toilet snakes, of course,” I say, and she nods seriously, not picking up on my sarcasm.
I can see Nat stifling a laugh behind her hand and if it had been anyone else saying these things, I probably would have shared an eye roll with my friend and walked away.
But for some reason, Bea is charming the hell out of me, and I find myself smiling down at her.
“Okay,” Bea says with a determined breath. “Let’s do this.”
I watch patiently as Nat provides Bea with a hat and what she calls a body protector that looks like a bullet proof vest, and then brings her to Joey’s side.
She tells her to put a foot in the stirrup and then says she’ll help her up.
Before I know it, I’m volunteering my help instead.
I’m not a horse person, but I’ve lived in the country my whole life, you pick things up.
I know I should help her by her leg, I know I don’t need to touch her anywhere else, but my hands curl around her hips and squeeze.
My thumbs skim over the sliver of skin between her light denim jeans and her body protector before I lift.
She gasps as I help her up into the saddle, the movement easy with her leg in the stirrup.
When she’s seated, I see the pink flush to her cheeks and the way she swallows, avoiding my eye as she mumbles a thank you.
I step away to let Nat take the lead rope, still feeling the shape of her beneath my fingertips, still smelling the sweetness of her shampoo. It’s intoxicating. It’s dangerous.
Nat takes Bea and Joey into the school ring, a large outdoor paddock with rubber chippings on the ground to cushion any falls.
She’s patient as she shows Bea how to hold the reins, how to place her feet in the stirrups and then she lets the lead rope out to its full length and Joey starts to trot.
Bea’s delighted yelp has me laughing involuntarily.
She moves up and down in the saddle with Joey’s rhythm like Nat told her and her face is bright with the force of her smile.
“August, look at me, I’m riding a horse!” She laughs in delight.
“I can see that, sunshine,” I say, not trying to hide the pride in my voice. I lean my forearms atop the wooden fence around the paddock and watch the lesson progress.
“Oh my god, this is thrilling,” Bea says. “Have you ever ridden?” she asks as they come to a stop in front of me.
“Fuck no,” I snort.
“You should!”
“Absolutely not,” I stand straight.
“Why?”
“I’m too big,” I say, scrambling for an excuse.
“Bullshit,” Nat says. “I’ve got at least three horses that would be big enough for you. I can get one saddled up for you.”
I’m shaking my head, but Bea is clapping her hands and looking down at me with begging eyes. “Come on, August. Helping someone try something new is on my Fuck-It list, you could help me cross it off.”
I narrow my eyes at her. “Is that really on your list?”
“I just added it,” she giggles. “Come on, try it, if you’re not too scared.” I’m ashamed that her taunt hits the spot.
“Fuck, fine,” I groan, much to Bea’s delight. Nat smiles, signalling another girl at the stables to tack up a horse for me.
I’m not scared. Kids ride these things. I can do it.
It’s just my mode of transportation shouldn’t have free will; that just seems weird to me.
When a girl who could only be eighteen at most, leads an absolute monster of a black horse over to me, along with a hat and no body protector because they may have horses big enough but definitely not vests.
My heart is in my throat as I put the hat on and I’m sure I’ve gone a little pale.
My horse, Lady, is black all over apart from the one star of white between her eyes.
I get the distinct impression she’s bored of me when I psyche myself up with one foot in the stirrup and she huffs out a breath through her nose.
The petite blonde who brought Lady over thankfully doesn’t try to help me up, instead letting me use the nearby bench to get a leg up.
I’m slightly embarrassed by the little whimper I let out when I land in the saddle. And I hold on to the front of the leather for dear life as I’m led into the paddock with Bea and Nat. Bea is grinning like mad and looking at me with the same pride I had for her.
“See?” she says with unrestrained excitement. “It’s fun, right?”
“Sure,” I strain out, clenching so hard I may turn my insides to diamonds.
What the fuck am I doing? I don’t ride horses, I don’t take my neighbours out on surprise outings to fulfil their dreams. I mean, that one’s quite specific, but I’m just now having this weird realisation that I am behaving so out of character and it’s all because of this woman.
From the moment she stepped into my world, bringing attention to her gorgeous tits and even more stunning smile, I’ve been acting kind of crazy.
Bea has me turned around, and I need to decide what I’m going to do about it.
I either need to walk away and be the kind of neighbour who nods a greeting from across the road, or I need to work out what these feelings are.
These feelings that dwarf all those that have come before.
“You look great.” Bea beams as Lady comes to a stand next to Joey. “You okay?” The concern is real; she’s checking in and making sure I’m comfortable.
“Yeah, sunshine.” I sigh, forcing my muscles to relax. “I’m good.”
“Okay, let’s set up the jumps,” Nat calls up to us.
“What?” I squeak in sheer panic only for Nat to cackle manically and scoop up both lead ropes.
An hour later, I’m walking back to my car like there’s a horse still between my legs.
There isn’t. Muscles I’ve never felt before are aching like nothing I’ve ever experienced, and my butt hurts.
Bea is practically skipping, the same grin she’s been wearing all day splitting her face in two.
I might be in pain, but it was worth it because her smile is making this weird fluttery feeling happen in my chest that I both love and hate.
Before she rounds my truck to the passenger side, she stops in front of me, her smile turning shy.
“May I hug you? Just a friendly hug?”
My jaw clenches because I already know my body doesn’t get the friendly memo in her proximity. Still, I nod and open my arms. She nestles into my chest, arms around my waist, squeezing me tight.
“Thank you so much, August,” she mumbles into the fabric of my t-shirt, and I hope she can’t smell the sweat the impromptu horse ride created. “This was amazing, and I can’t tell you how grateful I am.”
I can’t say anything because my throat has dried up, I’m sure she can feel the erratic rhythm of my heart where her cheek presses to the centre of my chest. But instead of wanting to cut the contact short, I wrap my arms further around her and hold tight.
“And thank you for arranging the croissant class with Nick,” she continues, pulling back only enough to look up at me. “I know that was you too.”
“It was nothing,” I say, but it comes out scratchy. Her eyes are bright and shining, her cheeks pink and healthy, her lips plush and begging for kisses.
Kisses I won’t be giving.
“You might think that,” she says softly. “But it means a whole lot more than nothing to me.”
Don’t kiss her. Don’t kiss her. Do not kiss her.
“You’re welcome,” I settle on, my voice gentle and sincere.
We get back on the road, taking the country lanes because they’re pretty and it’ll give me extra minutes with Bea.
The windows are open and the strands of pink that have gotten free from her low ponytail whip around her face, one arm extends out of the window, feeling the warm summer air as we amble through winding roads.
“My mum wants me to invite you to the village quiz,” I say.
She turns to look at me, surprised and confused. “The village quiz?”
“Yeah, it’s a pub quiz, we do it every month for charity. Eli hosts and there’s food and drinks. It gets rather competitive, and Mum wants you on our team. She thinks you’ll know a lot because you read a lot.”
Bea laughs. “I don’t know about that.”
“Well, it’s still a good night. You want to come?” Why am I nervous?
“Sure,” she says easily. “Sounds fun.”
“And, uh,” I clear my throat. “I’m playing rugby on Saturday, and I thought you might like to come.”
I feel her surprise rather than see it as I focus on the road in front of me. “You want me to come watch you play rugby?”
“What? No,” I say quickly.
“But you just said—”
“I mean, it’s a charity event and a load of local shops usually have stalls there to help raise money, it’s a good way to drum up some business from outside the village.” The leather of the steering wheel creeks under my grip, and my heart is somewhere in my oesophagus.
“Oh, yeah. That sounds good.” She turns forward to look out the windshield. “Thanks, I’ll make something to take.”
“Brownies,” I say. “Ruth’s been going on about how good they were.”
I catch her smile in my periphery and dart my gaze over to her, smiling back. “And you want to try them?”
“And I want to try them.”