11. Oz
Oz
The following afternoon at the Buxom Bodice, Bluebell cocks her head to the side as she eyes the two shirts she’s holding against my chest. “Red isn’t your color.
The pale blue brings out your skin, though.
” She shakes her head. “I literally cannot believe this whole situationship you’re in right now. ”
I just downloaded the Wilder deal to the girls, even though I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone. It would have been impossible not to fill them in after they saw us yesterday.
I laugh, and Ginger groans from her usual spot at my feet. “I’m not trying to attract the male, Bluebell; I’m just trying to keep warm because I assume we’ll be camping. He’s paying me to look the part, ya know?”
She looks at Lemon, who grins at me over the top of a magazine about western clothing.
Lemon’s smile gets bigger. “Oz, you spilled the beans about this situation you’ve found yourself in, and I love it for you.
But let’s not pretend you don’t find Wilder attractive because we all find him attractive.
Right, Bloob?” She waves at the checkout station.
“Girl, order me some of those chaps in a bright purple, if you would.”
Bluebell’s dark brows lift. “You gonna start riding?”
Lemon returns to her catalog. “Not a horse, but yeah.” She smirks.
Bluebell chuckles. “Hells yeah. If Hadrian was into sharing, I might ask Wilder to come over.” She winks at Lemon. “You’re a vampire; that’s more likely at your house.”
“Not so much,” Lemon says. “Furyon keeps me plenty busy.”
“You know what?” I muse as Bluebell helps me button the shirt over my shoulders. “You’re right. Wilder’s pretty cute.”
“Pretty cute?” Bluebell scoffs. “Why are you acting coy about this?”
I’m not even sure.
“Just keep helping me sell it.” I admire my reflection in the mirror. The pale blue is a damn hit, if I do say so myself. “You can’t tell him I told you,” I remind the girls. “As far as you both know, it’s relatively new, but I’m madly in love, and you’re happy for me.”
Bluebell unbuttons the shirt from my shoulders and heads for the checkout counter. “You need a few of these, and I’m gonna throw in a couple thick sweaters too. You need something sweat-wicking for the riding, breathable yet warm. Trust me on this.”
“I know how to ride a horse.” I pull my heart sweater back on.
“I think it’s cute how his sister got you matching sweaters,” Lemon offers. “And even cuter that he wore it.”
“He looked darling too,” I whisper, turning to her as I hop off the platform in front of the mirrors.
“You know she got them here,” Lemon whispers back.
Above us, the Buxom Bodice’s rafters groan happily, the building agreeing with Lemon. I thumb the sweater’s soft fabric, admiring how beautifully it’s made. Not the right outerwear for two days out on the range, but perfect for a Fuck You Ride.
Bluebell returns with my things in a bag, then hands it to me. “And you know how to ride a horse for real?”
I scratch at the length of my right horn, thinking about my childhood.
“Yeah. My grandparents had a hobby farm in upstate New York and a few horses. I used to help my granny exercise them, so I’ve been riding my whole life. Of course, I haven’t done much of it since I moved to Pine Gulch, but prior to that? Yeah…”
“I can’t wait to hear how this goes,” Lemon says with a delighted-sounding laugh. “Just you, your fake boyfriend, your ex-boyfriend, and a surveyor out on the range all by yourselves for two days…what could go wrong?”
“I’m gonna miss a Sweetheart Ball planning meeting though…” I muse. “Don’t want to leave the final deets to y’all to tackle.”
Bluebell shakes her head. “Now that Merit and Bryony aren’t part of the organizing committee anymore, and it’s just us, it’s soooo much easier.
They get more time to focus on gossip, and we get to actually be efficient.
We’re in a good spot. All you need to do is worry about getting auctioned off like the hottie you are. ”
I waggle my brows at the compliment.
Don’t mind if I do.
* * *
“Well, this looks like fun.” Saint glares at the surveyor as we stand beside a horse trailer, in front of four saddled horses and two pack mules.
Wilder glances at me, but I’m perfectly warm in my multiple layers and leather gloves. I might look like I have a killer skincare routine, but my granny taught me to rough it, and honestly? I’m really fucking good at it.
The minotaur surveyor spits onto the ground as he points at the big black mare closest to Saint. “This here mare is bombproof. Every one of my kids have rode her, and I’ve never seen her do more than a fast trot in her entire life. You’ll be fine, Mister Ashbourne.”
Saint looks from the surveyor, Erek Alsop, to me and back again. “Dandy.”
Erek steps forward, bending over and cupping his hands together.
Saint stares down at him. “The fuck are you doing?”
Erek sighs as he straightens. “Givin’ you a leg up, Ashbourne, as it’s clear you’ve never ridden a horse before. Tell me I’m wrong, please, or this is gonna be a long-ass two-day ride. You can stay here, you know.”
Saint hisses, baring his fangs at the big gray minotaur. “I have a duty to my client. I’ve got to go.”
“You really don’t,” Erek presses, “but if you insist on going, this is the horse for you.”
It takes Saint four tries to get up on the mare’s back.
I’d snicker in triumph, but just watching the whole thing feels enough like a win.
Erek comes over to offer me a leg up, but I grab the gelding’s mane and carefully swing up with one foot in the left stirrup, careful not to poke my mount’s belly with the tip of my boot.
Saint glares at me from atop his mount, where he sits holding the reins up in front of his chest.
Oh boy.
Erek glances at Wilder next. “You c’n ride a bull like nobody’s business, but you know how to ride a horse? I don’t wanna assume.”
Wilder says nothing, just slips gracefully up onto a big white draft horse. He holds the reins loosely in one hand, looking for all the world like he’s right at home.
“Alrighty then,” Erek jerks his head toward the horizon, “we’ll head northeast first, and I’ll have to stop every once in a while to mark things. If you have any questions, feel free to let me know.” He glances at Saint. “Speak now or forever hold your peace, Ashbourne.”
Saint rolls his eyes, still holding the reins up at chest level. “Let’s just get going.”
Erek climbs carefully up onto another draft horse.
When he kisses to the big mare, she starts walking off toward the rolling, snow-covered hills in front of us.
Wilder and I share a smile as Saint kicks his horse hard.
She takes off trotting, and he bounces like crazy, dropping the reins and hanging on to the saddle horn.
I grin over at Wilder. “This is gonna be so fun,” I whisper.
He watches Saint bounce off after Erek. “That’s one way to put it.”
An hour later, Saint’s complaining nonstop of how his knees are rubbed raw and he’s freezing cold.
At this point, Erek isn’t even answering him anymore.
Although I suppose, with both pack mules trekking along behind him, he could claim he can’t hear Saint.
Wilder and I walk our horses side by side in silence for a while, far enough away that we, too, can claim not to hear Saint’s bitching and moaning.
As the snowflakes start blowing sideways, my thoughts stray to the Sweetheart Ball.
It’s held outside, and while most monsters aren’t afraid of a little snow, a snowstorm wouldn’t be the best weather.
Plus, it’s my favorite PG event of the year.
Ice skating and dancing and it’s all about love? Yeah, I’m down for that.
Technically I haven’t actually been to it but since I’m on the organizing committee with my girls, I have the full insider scoop.
“You’re comfortable on a horse,” Wilder says after the second hour, interrupting my thoughts. “I wouldn’t have expected that from a male who moved here from New York City.”
I shrug, flaring my wing carefully to one side so I can scratch a spot in the middle of my back. I’m watchful for Mary, my horse, to be spooked by the wing appearing in her peripheral vision, but she glances at it then looks back at the group ahead of us.
“My grandparents were super outdoorsy. I’ve been camping and fishing and riding my whole life.” I shrug, tucking my wing away. “I feel very at home out here.”
Wilder’s quietly watchful for a minute, then he regards Saint up ahead of us. “What’d you see in him, before it went south?”
I scoff, twitching my ears. Pretty sure Saint’s far enough ahead of us not to be able to hear this conversation.
“Well, he’s hot, for starters. And when he wants something, he can be charming.
Not to mention his family’s practically hoity-toity vampire royalty, so I felt…
special, for a time. He took me on a lot of neat trips and paraded me around.
But it didn’t take long for me to realize he just thought of me as another thing to possess, not cherish.
I wasn’t a partner to him. In fact, I don’t think he’s capable of feeling that way about someone else. ”
“You’re surprisingly self-aware about that,” Wilder gruffs. “With what you said this morning, and what you’re saying now.”
I smile. “I’ve grown a lot, and Pine Gulch has been a big part of that. I had confidence before he tore it apart. That’s why I swore I’d never put up with that shit again, although I still have my moments.”
He glances at me but looks away quickly, eyes focused on the rolling hills ahead.
I wave at the landscape. “How does it feel to ride our land?” I’m purposeful in how I phrase that, just in case.
Wilder smiles, still staring out at the beautiful hills, covered in winter snow. “Incredible, if I’m honest. It’s been a dream for so long, and you’ve heard me talking about it for ages.” He shoots me a look.
“‘Bout as good as that twenty-K check in my bank account?” I waggle both brows at him, but he just rolls his eyes and looks away. Although, he can’t hide the hint of a smile even though he’s trying. “Tell me something I don’t know about you,” I encourage.
“I got hurt,” he says after another moment passes. “Rode a bull for the full eight seconds but on the dismount he spun and I landed weird. He was on me so fast, knocked me to the side pretty hard.” He sucks at his teeth and I think he’ll go on, but he doesn’t.
We walk for a quiet minute before I decide that since he brought it up, it’s okay for me to ask about it.
When I glance over, his firm jaw’s tightly grit.
“Is that why you’re buying the ranch and bulls here?”
He nods. “When you do a job like that, that’s so physical, you know you won’t do it ‘til you’re old. It’s kinda like skyball pros—they’ll play until they’re hurt. Then they retire and coach. That’s what I’m doing.”
He falls silent as I consider that this is the most words he’s said to me the entire time I’ve known him. Not to mention I can add it to a list of Real Things I Know About Wilder Lane…
“I’m not even sure why I shared that,” he mutters, dropping one rein to run a hand through his hair. After a moment, he looks over. “I guess I thought it might be useful context for everything we’re doing.”
“It is,” I say with a soft smile. “But also, I love knowing more about you.” I shoot him a playful wink. “Thinking up more things to add to our vision board as we speak!”
He chuckles and I watch as that muscle in his jaw slowly relaxes.