Chapter 20 #2
They all scream and demand the details, but I get distracted by the sound of hooves clomping through the barn. I whip around, thinking maybe a horse has gotten loose, but it’s Parker guiding Zeke outside, tacked up with an oversized Western saddle.
He winks at me as he passes by, and it sends my intestines somersaulting again.
“Happy?” he asks, his voice low.
I nod. “Extremely,” I murmur back. “And I owe you. Seriously, you will be thanked profusely for this.”
His gaze heats, and a ripple of excitement goes through me.
“I like the sound of that,” he says in a low voice.
I don’t know where he found that cowboy hat, but I think it might have magical powers.
“Alright, who’s first for the ultimate cowgirl experience?” Parker says, standing at my elbow with Zeke on his other side. The beat of silence is deafening before they burst into a collective squeal that nearly bursts my eardrums. Zeke, true to form, doesn’t even flinch.
“Wow, that sounded so incredibly dirty,” I whisper under my breath.
“Shut up,” he hisses back. Then he raises his voice so the others can hear him. “And by that, I, uh, of course, mean a completely innocent ride.”
“That too,” I mutter above barely contained giggling.
Even in the firelight, I’m sure I can see the tips of his ears going pink. “No, I meant—ugh. Never mind. Who wants to sit on the horse?”
The group positively howls. Parker tosses his hands up and turns to leave, but I stop him. I steer him by the shoulders over to the riding paddock, Zeke trailing steadily along.
“Don’t worry, it’s not your fault, everything you’re saying has a double meaning,” I say with my hands still on his shoulders. “You’re talking about riding. At a bachelorette party. I can’t say I blame them.”
“Excuse me for thinking we were dealing with adult women and not a bunch of twelve-year-olds.”
“My friend, at a bachelorette party, we’re the same thing.”
I give him a pat on the back, my eyes greedily cataloging the way his hard muscles ripple as he checks everything over.
As much as these women seem to want him, I’ve come closer to any of the fantasies guaranteed to be running rampant through their minds right now.
It makes it all the more difficult not to imagine how his bare shoulders would feel under my curious, exploring fingers.
“We should start with our guest of honor!” I announce, clapping my hands together and turning to the group.
Veronica tugs Lucy forward, who is practically bouncing with excitement.
I don’t know if it’s because it’s her bachelorette party, or if it has anything to do with her opinion of the workshop so far, but it’s enough that more than a tiny part of me believes a good review could be coming my way.
Lucy is wearing dark-wash skinny jeans that are shredded on the thighs, paired with a wide belt around the waist of her gray-and-white plaid top, and cowboy boots that appear to have never been worn.
“That’s me! The future Mrs. Keith Cooper, at your service!” she says, adjusting the plastic tiara and short veil adorning her club-worthy blonde curls.
Not for the first time tonight, a collective oooooOOOH rises from the girls like a fight song at a high school football game.
The bride’s sister, Molly, doesn’t join in.
She hasn’t left her sister’s side all night, and I’ve been watching her the closest. She’s the only one who doesn’t seem to be having quite as good a time as the rest of them and has barely cracked a smile since they arrived.
Before she follows me, Lucy pulls Veronica into a bear hug. “This is all perfect,” she gushes, waving at the fire, the barn, the horse. Or maybe it was Parker she was pointing at. “Nobody knows me like you do. I honestly couldn’t have asked for anything better.”
I glance at Molly, who wears a pained expression on her face before she tips her head back to down the rest of her drink.
“It was nothing, really,” Veronica says. Though she’s beaming, I catch her sneak a sympathetic glimpse at Molly too; I then recall that she was the one who was supposed to organize the party.
“No, it’s not nothing,” Lucy insists. “It’s everything.”
She turns to Parker, but hesitates when he extends the reins to her, looking a little sheepish. “Oh, um … I know this might come as a shock, but I’m not much of a horse girl.”
“You don’t ride?” he asks, surprised.
“Sure, if you count the pony ride at the county fair when I was nine.”
“Aren’t you the one with the country blog?” Parker asks bluntly.
I wince, but thankfully Lucy laughs. “It’s more about the country aesthetic. Lifestyle, fashion, home décor, etc. I’m happy to be on the farm so long as I don’t have to get too close to the smells, if you know what I mean.”
I have to give Parker points for not rolling his eyes.
“I guess this experience includes a lesson then, too.”
I turn away as Parker gets Lucy on the horse and talks her through where to put her hands and feet before leading her around the riding ring.
He’s obviously got his part covered, and I don’t want to intrude on the rest of the group, so I hang back awkwardly, away from the fire, doing my best to blend in.
“Sloan, get over here! You look like you’re freezing,” Veronica calls, patting the empty log beside her.
I try to decline politely, but cave when they all join in, if only to get them to stop yelling. It has gotten cooler, a crispness to the fall air that makes me wish I had a coat. The women look comfortable, but they have the added benefit of booze warming their veins.
“Thank you for making tonight so special,” Veronica says, handing me some of her blanket. “She loves it.”
“I heard.”
“You get full credit for it. This is … so much more than I even expected.”
“I know, can we stay and have the wedding here?” Abby jokes, waving towards the lights strung up all around. “This is like, the absolute cutest little place.”
I cast another glance over at Molly, staring sullenly into the fire. “I think your marshmallow’s burning,” I tell her.
“Whatever,” she mutters, stabbing the flaming marshmallow into the coals.
“Are you going to tell us what your deal is with that guy, or what?” Veronica asks, pulling my attention back to her.
The girls around the fire exchange knowing looks, a couple of them leaning over to get a better view of him in action.
“Uh, nothing?”
Veronica rolls her eyes, amused by my lame deflection. “Puh-lease. We’re not blind. Besides, chemistry like that doesn’t lie.”
There’s a murmur of agreement from the others.
My cheeks warm, but it has nothing to do with sitting closer to the fire.
The women are all leaning toward me now, literally on the edge of their seats.
Probably hoping they can live vicariously through me with a vivid description of Parker’s …
private talents. I can’t deny that sparks have been flying tonight, though I didn’t think anyone else would notice.
It turns out that drunk women are pretty observant.
I don’t get a chance to brush them off with another lame answer, though.
Before I can open my mouth, a scream pierces through the night air.