Chapter 8 #2
“Thanks. Dance training, fight training. I’ve had lots of experience with that sort of thing.
” I glance away at the fields in the distance.
There are a handful of unrecognizable people moving about the farm.
In and out of the barns. Someone else is riding out in a larger ring behind the main barn.
But they’re going fast, ripping around the space.
“You think you’re ready to try out some barrels?” he asks, following my gaze.
“Not on your life. I won’t even be doing that for the show.
That’s what stunt doubles are for. Even if I was good enough, they wouldn’t want to risk their star actors like that.
When I said everything in Hollywood was fake, I meant it.
” What I don’t tell him is that I’m just as bad as the rest of them.
Faking it. Pretending I’m okay when I’m not.
Acting like I don’t care about the way I’ve been treated since my very public humiliation.
“Really? Kind of makes me rethink every movie and TV show I’ve ever watched.”
“Oh, trust me. You don’t want to peek behind that curtain. It’s like watching a magician explain his tricks. Without the illusion, there’s no magic.” Kind of what I’ve been feeling like lately. No magic.
“Well, I guess I’ll try not to think about it too hard. We should probably get you down from there. Don’t want to overdo it on your first day.”
As eager as I am to fast-track the process, my ass is aching almost as much as my thighs, so I nod.
“Tell her to stop.”
She comes to a nice, easy halt when I tug on the reins and Quint strolls over.
He holds his hands up to me. “Now you’re going to do the exact opposite of what you did to get on.
Take both feet out of the stirrups. You can hold on to the horn with one hand, and the other you can place here, then swing your right leg up and over nice and high.
Try not to kick her in the rump. And then slide down. I’m here to catch you if you need.”
I follow his instructions, but instead of the graceful fall, it’s an awkward slide made even more awkward when his hands land on my hips to catch me and my ass slides down the front of his body. I pretend I don’t notice the way his dick comes to life at the contact.
He clears his throat, backing away, and busying himself with flipping the reins over her head, and I think I catch a hit of pink staining the back of his neck. As much as I’m not planning on pursuing something with him, it is kind of nice knowing the attraction is mutual.
He seems to recover himself as we walk back to the barn, Flash’s big head bobbing between us.
“Would you like to come over for lunch? At the big house. We’ve got a big pot of leftover chili from last night that needs eating. Caleb’s over at the MacGregors for the day, so it’ll just be us and Dean, maybe Shayla.”
I hesitate for a moment, thinking of the way Shayla looks at me. But the thought of going back to that hotel again makes my skin crawl, and it’s just lunch. “Sure.”
“You snagged our resident celebrity for lunch?” Dean’s husky voice startles me, and I tear my gaze away from the way the denim of Quint’s jeans hug his ass.
I study the dark whorls and grooves in the wooden table.
“Don’t be a dick. She’s a person with a name.”
There’s a warm tug at my chest at the acknowledgement, and I glance up at him from under my lashes.
“Sorry, Aurelia,” Dean says.
I look up to see him tipping his hat, a contrite look on his face. “You can call me Aura.”
His blue eyes widen. “Nickname privileges. I’m flattered.”
“Get over here and make yourself useful. Put those tortilla chips in a bowl and get some bowls and cutlery out.” Quint doesn’t even turn away from the pot he’s stirring on the stove as he bosses his friend around.
“Yes, sir.”
Rich warm spices fill the air as the guys work away, and my mouth waters. This is nice. I spend so many meals alone or with an employee, I’d forgotten how good a meal could be when you spend it with family or friends. And not at some fancy restaurant. Just home.
The kitchen is large, big enough to hold an eight-person table, and I’m staring dreamily out the window when Quint and Dean walk over, arms laden with steaming bowls.
My stomach lets out a little rumble as Quint places one in front of me. He laughs.
“Sorry, didn’t know how hungry I was until you started cooking.”
“It’s the fresh ranch air. It’ll do that to you. Plus the exertion of riding.”
“So, how did the morning go?” Dean asks. There’s a spoon halfway to his mouth, but he’s looking at me curiously.
“Good,” I say.
But Quint leans forward, hair flopping over his forehead. “She did amazing. I’m really impressed for a first day.”
The compliment has me squirming a bit, so I try to brush it off. “Like I said, I’ve had lots of physical training. Strength, balance.” I stuff a heaping spoonful of chili in my mouth and it explodes with flavor. A zippy heat burns my tongue in the best way.
“You don’t need to explain it away. You’re doing great.”
Right. I nod.
“And what were you up to? Napping on the job?” Quint turns to his friend. “Magically appearing for a free lunch.”
“Hey, I was working my ass off while you two were having fun. The stalls don’t muck themselves, and we’ve got quite of few mares needing extra attention right now.”
“Sure, sure.” Quint continues to shovel in the delicious chili.
Their teasing friendship is comfortable, lived in, but I don’t feel unwelcome or uncomfortable like I might if I crashed a tight Hollywood friendship.
Then Dean turns to me. “You like live music?”
I do, but I don’t get out to concerts too much anymore.
It’s such a hassle. “I’m no aficionado, but I love music.
” After all, I’ve been surrounded by it most of my life, between musical theater classes and performing arts school.
And that makes me think of Abby, my songwriting college bestie, who I have been rather out of touch with lately.
“Cool. You should come out to The Grove with us tonight. It’ll be fun.”
Quint turns to me with a glint in his eyes. He comes across as steady and mature a lot of the time, but sometimes his excitement bubbles over like this and I remember he’s six years younger than me and fresh out of college. “You totally should.”
“I don’t know. Going out in public like that? Seems like it might be a bad idea.”
He shakes his head. “It’s Balsam Grove. There are no reporters hanging around. Just a nice little bar, the town folks. Nobody will even bat an eye at you.”
I’m torn. I would love to get away from the hotel, get out and explore the little town some more. It would help me get a better feel for small town life. Really, I could call it research.
“Maybe.”
A huge smile spreads across Quint’s face, giving him that boyish look again. “Awesome.”
Lunch goes by so fast. It’s easy being with them as they chat about the ranch, the horses.
I never feel like I’m left out as Dean asks me about Paisley Creek, and for the first time in a while I remember the good things about my time on my show.
The times before the toxic showrunner took over and Brad cheated on me.
This place is not what I was expecting it to be, but somehow, I’m starting to love it.