Chapter 15
JENNY
Iswear the ranch is shrinking. There’s no other excuse for how often I run into Lucas.
Damn near a hundred acres for him to fuck off across, yet he seems to be around every corner I turn. Worse, he’s acting like he’s entirely unfazed by the way I’m ignoring him. If he’d stop trying to strike up casual conversation every time I see him, I wouldn’t be so frustrated.
Okay, that’s not true, but maybe I’d be less tempted to bash his head against the side of the barn.
I can admit that our conversation on the way back from Bozeman hurt, but I have no interest in letting it linger. We’re both adults, and if he wants to continue acting like an irresponsible child instead of owning up to his actions, he’s welcome to do that.
As long as it’s away from me.
I’m perfectly capable of ignoring my personal feelings and doing my job, but Lucas seems intent on crawling up my ass at every opportunity.
That carefree smile never wavers, a cheery wave and an even cheerier greeting sent my way whenever we run into each other. It makes my brain light up with anxiety and what I refuse to believe is excitement.
There’s absolutely zero reason for me to be getting excited over Lucas Cross.
Still, my mind is unwilling to let me forget him, even for a few moments. I can’t stop thinking about last weekend, the way he took charge and then held me so delicately. None of it means anything, but my traitorous heart wants it to.
Today’s been exhausting, budget reports piling up and seemingly endless orders to be made.
I spent six hours straight on the phone with different people, haggling prices and setting up shipments with a new feed company.
The only thing sure to calm me down is a ride, and Ernie’s been terrorizing the other horses when he’s out to pasture.
He could probably use a chance to wander around the property as much as I could.
I keep my mind carefully blank as I settle him in the crossties, focusing intently on the motions of brushing him down and getting all my tack set up. By the time I finish picking any caked in dirt out of his hooves, I’ve actually managed to forget about Lucas.
Which, of course, means that he comes wandering through the barn, leading the sweetest mare on the ranch straight toward me.
Just my fucking luck.
“Jenny!” he says, bright and friendly as ever. “Going for a ride?”
I scowl at him and turn my back without a word. It’s close to the end of the work day for the ranch hands, but with any luck, he’ll have things to do and won’t be able to hang around and bother me.
I should know better to jinx myself with thoughts like that.
“Mind if I join you?” Lucas asks, far too casual for the way I’m imagining throttling him right now.
Is this really the game he’s trying to play?
He should know better than to think a little alone time is all it takes to get into my pants.
Sure, I didn’t do a great job of making it hard on him the first time around, but I’m not foolish enough to repeat my mistakes.
Last weekend was the last time Lucas and I will ever wind up in bed together.
I snort rudely at him, tossing a disparaging glance back his way. “Do what you want.”
He’s always been good at that, if nothing else.
Besides, the thought of him joining me on a trail ride is laughable.
He could never settle in a saddle when we were younger, but I took to riding like a fish to water.
I expect him to make an excuse, try to get himself out of the mess he stuck his foot in, but instead he just smiles wide.
He pats the shoulder of the mare he was leading in, and I sneer in annoyance as I position the saddle on Ernie’s withers.
“Can you even stay upright on a horse these days?” I ask scathingly as I buckle the girth in and tighten it.
Lucas chuckles, infuriatingly easygoing. “Managed pretty alright for the past few months. Lyra here takes it easier on me than the horses you tried to make me ride when we were kids. Maybe I’ll be worse with you watching.”
I grimace at the reminder of Lucas’s continued presence here, as well as our past. This would all be easier if I could just pretend he was only visiting instead of working here, for some godforsaken reason.
It would be even easier if I could forget him entirely—or, even better, if he’d fuck off entirely and go darken someone else’s doorway.
“I have no intention of watching anything but the trail,” I say, stone-cold.
“Guess I’ll have to ride in front of you so you can watch my back, then,” he says, apparently unwilling to let me freeze him out.
I make eye contact with Ernie as I feed the bit into his mouth, wishing there was some way for me to communicate to him just how cool I’d be if he decides to kick Lucas right in his annoying mouth.
Ernie, unfortunately, just accepts the bit and holds still as I strap him into the rest of the bridle. So much for that.
“Like I said, do what you want,” I snap, not even looking at him. “Are you going to get Lyra saddled up, or are you planning on standing there like an idiot all night?”
If I didn’t think it’d end up with him cracking his skull open, I’d bully him into riding bareback. I’m not particularly averse to the concept of him going ass over tit, but I don’t want to explain a fatality to Dad later.
“What saddle does she use? One of the other guys usually gets the horses tacked up while I get the feed sorted in the mornings.”
I turn, blinking in shock at the sheer absurdity of that statement. He can’t be serious. Is everyone around here babying him? Even after this long?
“You’ve never saddled your own horse?” I ask, lifting a brow incredulously.
He just shrugs, and I let out a withering laugh. Of course he hasn’t. What was I expecting from him?
“Like I said, she’s usually saddled when I’m finished with the feed.” He raises a brow right back at me, a challenging grin on his face. “Do you not know what saddle fits her? I thought you knew everything about the ranch.”
I know a taunt when I hear one, and my temper rises in response. As much as I would love to tell him he’s shit out of luck, I refuse to let him have the last word here.
Motherfucker.
I loop Ernie’s reins over one of the posts of the cross ties before stalking back to the tack room.
Lyra’s saddle is in the same place it always is, the girth that fits her best tossed atop it.
Her bridle hangs on a peg beneath a plaque with her name on it.
I should have made him come in just to show him how colossally stupid he sounds asking me to find her tack for him.
It’s probably best that I speak to him as little as possible.
I grab all the tack, along with a saddle pad, and lug them back out. Lucas has his back to me, scratching through Lyra’s forelock affectionately. I’ve never seen him so comfortable around any of the other horses, but she’s the one all the newbies ride for a reason.
“Make yourself useful,” I snap.
Lucas turns only to find himself with an arm full of tack, and I take a little too much pleasure in the grunt of surprise that punches out of him when I dump it all in his arms. I settle the saddle pad in place on her withers, not trusting him to place it properly, then take the bridle from him to hang it up on a hook on the wall.
“Go on, then,” I mock, crossing my arms over my chest. “You can saddle her now that you have all the tack, can’t you?”
He gives me a bright smile, but it does nothing to hide the uncertainty in his eyes.
If people have been saddling Lyra for him every day, there’s no way he can manage it without instruction, but I have no interest in helping him.
I deserve to watch him make an idiot of himself if he’s going to insist on bothering me.
At least he doesn’t complain about it, setting himself to the task without a word.
He even manages to not put the saddle on backwards, which is better than I expected from him.
It’s the girth that gives him trouble, and I snicker when he buckles it in so loosely that I could probably fit my entire fist between it and Lyra’s belly.
He glances back, scowling, but has enough sense to know I’m not just laughing at him because he looks like an idiot.
“What? This is right, isn’t it?”
“Sure, if you want the saddle to slip the second you get on,” I say drily.
I scoff, pushing him out of the way to cinch the girth down enough to actually hold the saddle in place.
Lyra exhales, and I pull it another notch tighter before buckling it into place.
Lucas stands behind me, watching silently, and it brings up a flood of memories I’d rather ignore.
We used to do this same thing so many years ago, although Lucas usually had his arms wrapped around my waist while I tacked his horse up for him back then.
The knowledge that he’s only a foot away from me now makes my skin crawl. It’s all too much, even the familiar scents of the barn overwhelming in the face of the similarities burning bright in my mind.
I need fresh air. I need to get the fuck away from Lucas.
I grab the bridle from the hook it’s hanging on and turn, shoving it straight into Lucas’s chest. He grabs it, eyes widening in surprise even as he lets out a nervous chuckle, but I duck off to the side and stalk back toward Ernie.
“You can figure out how to bridle her, can’t you?” I ask waspishly, tossing the words over my shoulder.
Hopefully he didn’t see the bright flush on my cheeks. The last thing I need right now is to give him more ammunition for whatever ridiculous game he’s playing.
I want nothing to do with Lucas Cross, and I don’t care what he thinks he’s going to get out of annoying the fuck out of me. All I want is to go on a ride and get some fresh air, and I’m not going to let him ruin this for me.
He’s already set me behind schedule—I wanted to be out on the trail by now. The sun is starting to dip below the tree tops at the edges of the property already, which means it’ll be well past dark by the time we even get to the back fields.
So much for having time to let Ernie blow off some steam. Or for getting to do the same myself. At this point, I just want to get the ride over with and get back.
The less time I can spend with Lucas, the better.