16. Sixteen
Sixteen
Wes
“You seem distracted.”
I pull up on the girth, tightening it until I’m certain no children will be sliding off the side of their horse. Lady has gotten pretty round recently, and I’d hate to lose a student to a loose saddle.
When I look over the top of the pony in cross ties to find Rosemary staring at me, her arms crossed and her back leaning against the wall, I raise my brows. “No,” I lie.
The truth is, I’ve been irrationally distracted since yesterday afternoon.
I’d spent so much time weighing the risks and rewards of giving in with Cass, the whole experiment started to go fuzzy around the edges of my vision.
I could no longer see the scales. I couldn’t remember what risks even existed—not in the wake of her searing gaze, her palpable disappointment, and that final plea for me to touch her.
Please, Wes.
My restraint snapped. I’m certain the scales tipped one direction or another, but I can’t seem to be bothered with assessing the outcome.
If I’m being honest, I’ve let a lot of fears hold me back, and I don’t want to be that. I don’t want to compare Cassidy to past relationships.
All that remains is the ghost of Cass’s lips on mine, the way my mind could replicate the sensation so clearly in those first few hours. With each passing minute, however, the sensation fades, leaving me wanting my next fix.
Unfortunately, the barn is busy today.
“You’re lying,” Roe says, pushing off the wall to stand at Lady’s side. She gives the pony a pat on the neck, cooing about how cute she is, and how she shouldn’t feel bad about fewer treats. It all happens to the best of us, and she’s still a perfect lesson horse.
“No reason to lie,” I say, knowing damn well there are a lot of reasons to lie to Rosemary—pretty much all the time.
For starters, she’s meddlesome. She’s never kept a secret in her life, and I haven’t had a spare minute to talk to Cassidy to gauge where things stand after the kiss.
“I think,” she says, leaning forward slightly and annunciating the k to be sure I’m listening. “You’ve forgotten how nosey Walton is. That man gossips so much, I’m certain he worked in a hair salon in a past life.”
I pause, my hand resting on Lady’s croup. Unfortunately, I’m already too sweaty to notice if Roe’s information worsened the problem. By the rapid beating of my heart, I’m positive it did.
The farm’s owner making out with one of his employees is certainly not a good look.
“What did Walton say?” I ask, curiosity and panic rising in equal measure.
Roe shrugs. “Walton informed me that he caught you and a staff member looking rather cozy behind the woods yesterday.” I don’t dare move.
“Insisted he couldn’t tell me who, since it would be a violation of privacy, but it’s slim pickings in regards to figuring out who you were with.
It couldn’t have been Walton. Certainly not Grady, and I don’t think it would be that newer trainer, Marcus, who only comes in once a week because you disagree with his teaching style too vehemently. ”
“Marcus forgets that these are animals and not machines,” I grunt, turning around to gather up the bridle hanging from the hook on the wall.
Roe circles Lady, ducking under the crossties to plant herself right in front of me, blocking me from the horse.
I cock a brow. “Brave of you to do that,” I say. “This pony is on a diet, and I wouldn’t put it past her to take a chunk out of your shoulder in search of a carrot.”
Roe’s face falls. “Lady and I have been friends for the better part of four years. She would never.”
I try to get past my sister, but she’s damn persistent.
“Do you want to talk about what you were doing with Cassidy yesterday?”
“Do you want to talk about why you’re not in Nashville, and why you suddenly started listening to mom at the ripe old age of twenty-seven?”
Roe points at me, her tone scolding. “First of all, that’s a low blow. Second of all, my Saturn has returned, and I’m assuming that’s why.”
“Yes, blame the planets.” I shoulder past her, unhooking Lady from the cross ties and bridling her for the upcoming lesson.
When I turn to lead her down to the arena, Roe steps forward, her tone bright. “Cassidy!” she says.
Cass stands with her hair pulled back into a low bun. Strands of hair frame her face, decorated with a stray piece of alfalfa. Her overalls hang loose, but the tight white tank top beneath them has me picturing what it would be like to take the damn denim off.
“Hey,” Cass says, and I don’t miss the way her blue eyes flick to me—just briefly.
Roe doesn’t hesitate. “Wes said he was going to help you drive the tractor today!”
My head snaps to Roe, who knows damn well she’s supposed to be teaching this lesson with Cass, and leaving me to check on the foals down by the other barn. Walton will be waiting for me.
“Really?” Cass beams when she says it, excitement burning at 5000 kelvin.
The second I see how much she wants to learn to drive the tractor, I’m done for. Manipulated by my little sister, once again.
“Figured it would be a good time as any,” I mutter, noting the way Roe tosses me a knowing look.
Cass’s brow furrows. “I was supposed to help with the lesson. There are already four ponies down there, and a fifth is sure to cause chaos.” She looks down the aisle and back to Roe. “Aren’t you going to need help managing?”
Roe steps forward, placing her hands firmly on either shoulder. “I’m a master of chaos,” she says. “Go on.”
Silence follows us as we walk to the back of the barn, the manure spreader full on account of yesterday’s rain.
Yesterday’s rain that very much coated every inch of Cass’s skin when I had her pressed against my cock.
I run a hand down my face, heaving myself onto the tractor at the soonest opportunity. There’s a whole lot I would rather be doing than teaching her to drive, that’s for sure.
Cass stands on the ground, eyes wide as she looks over the machine, and I can tell she’s nervous.
“Well,” I start, considering that the best way to learn is to dive right in. If I let her sit there staring, she may psych herself out. Which, for some reason, I don’t see Cass doing. Not after that first day when I watched her chasing geese over in the colt’s field. “Climb on up.”
She appears to short-circuit as she looks from me to the tractor and back to me. “Right up there?”
“One must actually be on the tractor in order to drive it,” I say. “Unless you have some kind of telekinesis power I’m unaware of?”
Cass huffs a laugh, and I finally crack a smile.
I’m all too aware of her movements when she saunters up to the side of the tractor.
If I look down, I know I’ll be able to stare right down that damn tank top.
After yesterday, I’m not even sure she’d mind.
In fact, I have a suspicion that she’d like it with how she asked me to put my hands on her.
And that thought makes it all the more difficult.
When it comes to Cassidy Summers, I’m hellbent on giving her what she wants.
With my body buzzing in anticipation, I keep my eyes fixed on the front of the tractor, taking note of what I’ll need to go over exactly.
Cass plants her boot on the rung and hauls herself upward onto the narrow platform.
Even in the open air, the one singular seat has my blood heating with all kinds of ideas—filthy ideas.
It’s not like I haven't taught someone how to drive the tractor before. There are plenty of ways to teach this that don’t involve touching. Respectful ways—ways I intend to use.
If she truly wants to learn, I’m willing to be patient.
“Hold on and lean against the tire cover,” I say, pushing the clutch to the floor. “I’ll show you first, and then we can switch places.”
She nods in agreement, those blue eyes still wide as saucers as they flick from the clutch to the brake, and over the gear shift. I get the thing turned on, and it jolts forward.
On instinct, I reach out to steady her. My skin burns hot where my arm wraps around her waist, one hand planted firmly on her hip.
From this angle, all I can do is look up to see her thick lashes kiss the tops of her cheeks.
Her nerves charge the air, though I’m not sure why she’s so nervous.
She’s the one who asked me to do this, and everything she’s done so far, she’s taken to easily.
And if not easily, she had enough grit to make it happen anyway.
“You good?” I question, relishing in the way my hand still clutches her waist.
“Yeah.” She’s a bit breathless, but I pry myself away. We may be at the back of the barn, but any one of the clients or employees could be out here. Walton's finding us was bad enough. I don’t intend to get caught by anyone who could make this a bigger problem than it is.
Even so, for some damn reason, I cannot stop touching this woman. And sitting with the knowledge that she wanted me to?
I can hear every gasp, every sharp intake of her breath as I traced my hand up the side of her waist yesterday. The memory of her skin, hot and damp, sends blood right to my cock. I can imagine how she’d sound if I took her right here, showed her all the ways I could actually touch her. Make her—
Enough.
I focus on steering the tractor back to the far field that sits empty. With the main herd on a rotation, this one will be thoroughly fertilized. The tractor crawls forward, so slow that we could probably walk to the field faster, but it’s best to take it easy for learning purposes.
“Two symbols here,” I point out. “Rabbit is fast, turtle is slow. As you can see, we are barely moving.”
“You’re not pressing the gas?” she questions, eyes flicking to my boots.
“No. Not for this. You see the clutch down there?” I ask. “Very important you fully engage that.” I break into a fuller explanation as we inch over the grassy path leading to the back field. At this rate, we may never get there, but it’s important she has time to learn—get comfortable.
When I see her eyes glaze over as if I’ve given her too much information, I change my tactic.