33. Good Teacher
GOOD TEACHER
Ivy
“What do you think about this one?” I asked Aspen as I spun around in the dressing room, the pink bikini sitting in all the right spots.
She’d already picked out three for the trip. The trip we were set to leave for tomorrow, and I didn’t bring a single damn thing to wear. Somehow, everything I’d grabbed in a blind rage was winter clothes. Nothing that would work on a sunny beach in California with all of my friends.
My phone buzzed on the dressing room bench, and I groaned. “If that’s him again, I’m going to blow a fucking gasket.”
Aspen picked it up and physically winced. “It’s Tessa. Apparently, she saw Becca’s post on Instagram with the announcement and would like to call and check in immediately. She’s worried you’re, ya know…losing it, or whatever.”
“So wait, nothing from Todd?” I looked back at her as I changed into my next bathing suit option. This one was a black one-piece with basically zero back to it. Stunning, honestly. Horrible tan lines, but it could be worth it with how great it made my bum look.
“Nothing. Messages just stopped when we left the house.” Aspen shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal, but the man hadn’t shut up since I’d left the apartment last night, so the random drop-off was a bit odd.
“What do you think of this one?”
Aspen looked back up, letting out a low whistle. “I think you need that one like I need air in my lungs. He may take you there on the beach. Fuck the crowd.”
Shaking my head, I did another turn in the mirror, a small smile playing on my lips at the idea of it all.
“So, you’re not really freaking out.” It was a statement, the question left in the air that she wanted clarification but that it was obvious simultaneously.
“I freaked out last night on the way to Oliver’s house.
Done freaking out. I was going to dump his ass, anyway.
And if we’re being honest with each other, I’ve been processing and marinating on the end of our relationship for months now.
Months, Aspen. I’m done with it now. The other woman in his life is pregnant with a literal child, and I wish her and her baby nothing but the best. Whether that’s with him or elsewhere is totally up to her, but it has nothing to do with me, nor will I allow it to.
” I let out a huff and picked up the last bathing suit I had to try on.
Another pink one, but this one was also a one-piece as well, with a plunging neckline that ended just below my belly button.
Stepping into it, I adjusted the straps and smiled. “This one too. It’ll look cute with a pair of shorts. What do you think?” I looked back over my shoulder at my best friend to find a smile on her face as she nodded.
“I love it. That one and the black one will be absolutely perfect.”
“Agreed. Let’s pay and get outta here.”
I had to finish packing and had a cowboy to wrangle with later.
Aspen grabbed her stuff and handed me mine, only to stop before we opened the dressing room door. “I need to say something before we venture back out in the world.”
“Okay?”
“I’m really damn proud of you, Ivy.”
Swallowing down the emotions, I wrapped an arm around her, pulling her into a tight hug. “Me too.”
Aspen and I had lunch. She offered to let me come over and hang out while she packed and got things ready to leave tomorrow, but something about this side of the ranch was calling my name. So I was back, my flip flops clacking as I walked along the gravel and into the open doors of the barn.
He was standing in the middle of the open space, a tan and white horse tied off as he ran a brush over her coat. But that wasn’t the main thing that had my attention—as gorgeous as she was—there was something more jaw dropping in front of me.
Once again, he was shirtless. A pair of worn in Wranglers hugged his hips, a thick brown belt wrapped around them. His boots were covered in dirt, and sweat glistened along his muscular back.
Oliver Carragan wasn’t one of those men who was built with stacks of muscle and chiseled abs that he crafted in a gym for hours a day.
No. Oliver Carragan was the type of man who was shaped and sculpted by the way of his work.
Toned muscles along his backside with thick arms and wide shoulders.
The type of build that told you he enjoyed his pasta but could easily pick you up over his shoulder as if you weighed nothing.
An experience I’d not only witnessed but experienced on multiple occasions now.
I shuffled slightly, the noise bringing him to his full stance as he glanced over his shoulder at me, his normal serious expression melting into a smile. A smile that I’d come to realize I wished for every moment he was around me.
“Hey,” I said softly.
“Hey.” He set the brush down on a nearby stool and took a few steps towards me, my eyes soaking in that bit of chest hair that ran into those damn blue jeans of his. “How was shopping?”
I forced my eyes, with a great deal of resistance, back to his. “Good. Really good. I was able to find two new bathing suits and a few sundresses. Should be Cali ready now.”
“We can go back and get your stuff, Ivy. I don’t mind coming with you,” he repeated the sentiment he’d made clear this morning. I swore his eyes darkened with the words, and I could feel my heart begin to race from the tone of his voice alone.
“I know, I know. I promise, I’ll allow the big, scary cowboy to escort me back after our trip. I wanted new stuff, anyway. No memories attached to these yet.” I shrugged and tried to ignore how that statement sounded—even though it sounded exactly how I meant it.
He took another step closer, and a part of me I’d spent months ignoring wished he’d take another two more and just close the distance already.
I wished a lot of things, yet I was terrified to act on them.
Scared of what it would mean. Scared I’d somehow fuck this up—say the wrong thing, do the wrong thing.
That it would all end in a burning blaze before I could even truly enjoy it.
“So, what are you doing out here? Where’s Sunny?” Trying to change the subject felt like the best course of action with where my brain was running off to.
His head tilted back towards the horse he’d been brushing.
“Just giving the horses a brush. Rowan trained with a couple barrel racers this morning and used her to show them some tricks. She did good for a horse who hasn’t been in the ring in years.
And Hudson is with my mom today, enjoying his summer break in a house that lets him sleep in, if I had to guess. ”
That sounded about right. I watched as he turned back towards the horse and waved me over.
“Come on. A horse gal in another life and all, maybe this’ll help some of that pent-up frustration you seem to be carrying around.” He spoke so nonchalantly, as if it were fact and he could feel the frustration he spoke of gliding from my skin.
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” I lied as I walked closer to the horse.
“Have you ever ridden?”
I shook my head. “Nope. Told you, figure skating and all.”
He chuckled, taking my hand and pulling me around the front of him so I was pressed to his chest, the thin material of my dress doing little to keep the feel of him from invading all of my senses. Raising my hand, still clutched in his, he set my palm against her?—
“Do horses have fur or hair?” I blurted the question aloud, feeling stupid the moment it came from my lips, but he just chuckled softly. The movement fluffed my hair, causing an immediate sense of relief in a way only he did for me.
“Hair.” He pulled my hand down with his slow, petting movements. “Do you want to brush her?”
“Does she have a name? I fear this is very intimate if I don’t know her all that well.”
Another laugh left him, and I couldn’t help the smile I sent in return.
“This is Clover. Rowan and I bought her from an auction in January. She used to be a barrel racer, but she was injured and had to hang up her saddle, so to speak. The owners were going to put her down if no one bid, and I couldn’t leave her there.”
A tight feeling hit my throat as I nodded. “Always rescuing those in need, huh?” Silence met me, but he pulled his hand away, only to come back and place a small wooden brush with soft bristles in my hand.
His other hand came to sit on my hip as he started pulling my opposite hand down in long strokes. “This is the last brush she needs. Just helps her coat feel soft and gets rid of any of the bits left behind. It also happens to be her favorite. Plus, I think you both could use a friend right now.”
Clover let out a small snort, and Oliver’s hand squeezed my hip. It felt like some sort of universal sign that he was also pleased, but the gruff cowboy didn’t speak as he pressed against my back.
We stood like that for a long while. Brushing Clover. Moving from her neck and down her back. By the time we were finished, the anxiety I’d felt all but melted away, and Clover was the softest horse I’d ever seen.
“Will she go back out now?”
“Yeah. She’s getting along really well with everyone, so she’s fine to go out there with Dash and the others.
I only bring them in when the weather sucks or for appointments with the vet or when our farrier comes to visit.
” He shrugged and pulled the ropes that had her leashed to one of the beams. “Want to walk with me?”
I nodded and walked beside him and Clover as he led her to the side gate.
“Here, hold this for me while I open the gate.” He handed me the thin leather reins and walked away.
“Guess it’s you and me now.” I looked over at the stunning horse beside me.
She took a small step, her head bumping into my arm and I couldn’t help but smile.
“I like you too,” I whispered. Reaching up, I ran my hand down her neck a few times until Oliver let out a low whistle, grabbing both our attention.
“Bring her on over.” He motioned towards the gate, and I just stared at him.
“Um, how?”