21. Candice
21
CANDICE
Thankfully, the dynamic between Nathan and I hasn’t changed all that much since we started uh, practicing or whatever. In my very limited experience, sleeping with a man always makes me anxious and awkward around them. It always did with Ralph, anyways. But I’m not awkward with Nathan. He’s made me come with his hands and his mouth, and I still managed to work with him on training Brown Sugar yesterday.
The only thing that’s shifted between us is that he’s getting on my nerves less and less. Which is a good thing because I’m about to ask him to be in a car with me for six hours roundtrip and I really hope he says yes. Beau isn’t around to help me out and I won’t be able to do the trip on my own. The roads are clear and there’s no snow in the forecast, but I don’t trust Montana winters. Snow could come at any time. Beau doesn’t like wintery roads anymore than I do, but he at least has experience driving on them.
Nathan’s grooming Ballantine after their morning ride, and I watch them for a few minutes while planning out how I’m going to ask him to help me. I don’t want to tell him the truth—that I need him with me to ease my anxiety about driving. That will just lead to the inevitable question of why and I’m not ready to talk to him about that just yet.
Ballantine has a shaggy coat now and he looks adorable, and completely unlike the show horse that he is. Nathan is whispering to him and combing through his mane. It makes my heart ache to see him like this. It reminds me of myself—of the unbreakable, indescribable bond I have with Maggie. With all of the horses here.
He looks up and sees me watching him, and immediately smiles, a wide easy smile, complete with twinkly blue eyes and a flash of teeth.
“Hey,” he says. “What’s up?”
“I need your help,” I say, stepping into the stall and leaning against the wall.
Ballantine turns his head towards me and I give him a scratch on his side.
“Seems like you need my help for a lot of things these days, honey,” Nathan says with a wink.
“Oh shut up,” I say, even though he’s pretty much spot on.
“I’ll help you with whatever you need,” he says. “Just say the word, and we can go back to the bunkhouse right now. Tomás isn’t there and?—”
“Nathan,” I say, leveling him with a stare. “I don’t mean like that. I mean that I need you to help me transport a horse. Jazz Apple is getting adopted.”
“By whom?” he asks, meeting my stare with a hard one of his own.
I’m reminded of the argument we had over Jazz Apple being adopted and trained as a barrel racer and I wince. I need to work on my prejudice against people who ride competitively, but it’s tough to do that when not all of them are as kind to their horses as Nathan is.
“By a family looking for a new leisure horse. They have two others already, so she’ll have a herd, and it means they know what they’re doing. I thought about calling Bill and talking to him again but I…” I trail off, unsure how to explain myself.
“I get it,” he says quietly. “I really do. You care for these horses like they’re your children and you just want to know that they’re going to someone who cares just as much.”
“Exactly,” I say, relieved. “That doesn’t mean I’ll never adopt a horse to someone looking to compete. I have in the past, but I have to feel like it’s the right fit for the horse in question. And Jazz Apple will be happier as a leisure horse. Buckles on the other hand…”
“What about Buckles?” Nathan asks.
“Buckles wants to run. And he doesn’t want to stop. He’d be a good barrel racer, but I’m still working on getting him to trust me.”
Nathan nods, and we chat for a few more minutes about each of the horses at the barn. He’s gotten to know all of them in the few weeks that he’s been here, and he even has their personalities figured out. He knows that Nico likes to be in his stall when it gets too cold out, and that Bubba is a grump until he decides he likes you. He’s even figured out that Sarge, an off the track thoroughbred we’ve had for about a month, is an escape artist who needs to be carefully watched.
“Why do you need my help with Jazzy?” he asks. “I mean I’m happy to do it, but I just didn’t think you’d want to be with me in a car.”
“It’s a long drive, about three hours each way,” I say, hoping he accepts that explanation. “The family has young kids so they couldn't take the time to come here themselves and they offered me extra money to deliver Jazzy myself.”
“Makes sense,” he says. “We can split the driving.”
“Great,” I say. “I’ll drive the way there, you drive back. We leave in thirty minutes.”
Nathan lets out a laugh. “What would you have done if I said no?”
I lean in closer to him, pressing my body against his side. He’s warm, and I can feel it even through my layers of wool and fleece. My whole body flushes and comes alive at the touch.
“Beg,” I whisper. “On my knees.”
I move away from him before he can react and leave him in the stall with a dumbfounded look on his face.
Fucking with Nathan Booth might just be my new favorite hobby.
Nathan and I like the same type of music.
I discover this as soon as we get on the road. He asks if he can choose the music and I give him a non-committal answer, secretly dreading that he’s going to put on something I hate.
But instead, he chooses a mix of soulful country, bluegrass, and folk, including both male and female artists, which truly surprises me. You don’t find many guys who love female country singers, and this fact alone has me reassessing the misogynist accusations I lobbed at him in the past. I’m driving and he’s singing along to Brandi Carlile in the passenger seat. It’s probably the sexiest thing I’ve seen him do (aside from when he ravaged me with his mouth yesterday), and his voice isn’t half bad either.
“I’m surprised you like this,” I tell him.
“You shouldn’t be, Viper,” he says.
“Well, not many men like female country artists.”
I keep my eyes squarely on the road, my hands at ten and two, even though I desperately want to watch his reaction.
“I’m not most men,” he says. “Besides, my older sister loves this stuff and she runs the ranch so whatever music she has on in the office and house is what we all have to listen to.”
“She runs the ranch?” I try to keep my tone neutral so as to hide how interested I am. I feel like I’m uncovering new parts of Nathan every day and I want to hold each one close, turn it over, and examine it. I find that I want to know what makes him tick. What has him so confident and cocky one moment, and vulnerable the next.
“She does,” he says, offering no further explanation.
Okay then, I think. I guess Nathan’s family is another topic he’d rather not talk about.
“What’s she like?” I ask anyway.
He’s quiet for a moment and then says, “She’s strong. Unshakable. A force of nature when she needs to be.”
“I’d like to meet her,” I say. “Sounds like a woman I’d get along with.”
“You two in a room together would be hell,” he mutters, but I can tell he’s kidding.
I’m getting used to Nathan’s quirks. The things that make him himself. I can hear when he’s smiling. I can tell, from just a glance, what type of mood he’s in. This familiarity should feel strange, given how much animosity I normally have for Nathan, but I’m finding that it doesn’t. It’s been a long time since I had someone new in my life. For two years, it’s just been me, Beau, Jenny, Lila, and Tomás—plus Winnie, of course. Nathan is new and even though we still butt heads a fair amount, hanging out with him is fun.
“Well maybe one day I’ll meet her and we’ll get the chance to torture you together,” I say.
“I’d like that, Viper,” he says.
After a moment of silence, Nathan turns the music up and we both start to sing, my wavering alto mixing with his strong bass. I keep my eyes on the road rolling out in front of us, and the miles pass by with ease as we near the turn off for Calamity River, the town we’re taking Jazz Apple to.
Every so often, Nathan passes me my water bottle or a handful of pretzels, making sure I’m fed and watered as I drive. He’s such a horse person—it’s in the way he’s seeing to my needs without me asking. By the time we get to Calamity River, I’m more hydrated than I’ve ever been and I’ve eaten my weight in snacks.