Page 27 of Stables Spurs Suits
“Breathe,” I tell him, giving his hands a light squeeze.
He takes a long breath in and blows it out slowly. The sun throws rays of warm light across his face, illuminating the spattering of tiny freckles across his nose and cheeks. I’m so close I could almost count them. The breeze kicks up, swirling the sweet scent of the flowers around us, and I feel myself leaning toward him. My gaze dips to his pink lips, and as though right on cue, his tongue peeks out, sweeping over his lower lip, making it look even more delicious. If I closed the gap between us and kissed him again, would he pull away? Would he kiss me back? Would my body recoil under his touch as it has under every other guy I’ve tried to be with, or would it be different, warm, right?
“Thank you. I think I’m okay now.” He sighs, and I’m jolted out of my thoughts. I let him go and turn to face the valley. The sky is starting to turn a soft pink as the sun sets, threatening to steal the bright light away.
“I think this ridge is the perfect direction to take the trail. It’s amazing, don’t you think?” I ask.
“Yeah, it is,” he replies, but when I catch sight of him out of the corner of my eye, he isn’t looking at the valley or the sky ahead, he’s looking at me.
Chapter twelve
MATTHEW
TRYING SOMETHING NEW
On the way back to the ranch, Atlas stays one step behind. It could be for his own safety, given I nearly took his head off earlier, but something tells me it’s more than that. When we get close to the house, Dean waves us over.
“I was wondering what happened to you two,” Dean says.
“We’ve cleared another good section of the trail ready for the dozer tomorrow,” I reply, and his smile widens.
“Wow, you two are really powering through. At this rate, you’ll have it done by the party.”
“What party?” I ask, trying to sound normal, but my voice pitches up when I lie, and by Dean’s smirk, I think he knows it.
“Do you really think anything can happen on this ranch without me knowing about it?” he asks, and I shrug.
“Connor kept his secret pretty well hidden,” I say, and he scrunches up his nose as I pass him on my way to return thescythes to their safe storage in the small room inside the stables. I hear Atlas chuckle behind me.
“He’s got you there,” Atlas laughs. “Hey, Matthew, put those away and then come inside, you’ve earned yourself a slice of Sally-May’s apple pie.”
“How could I say no to that?” I reply, when really all I keep thinking is, how can I say no to you?
When I get to the stables, Loki pops his head out of his stall.
“How did you know I was here?” I ask as I step closer. He lets out a soft neigh as if in reply to my question. “Well, I’m happy to see you, nonetheless. We laid out more of the new trail today,” I say as I give him a pet along his nose. “There was an amazing valley that you’d just love. Maybe I can take you up to see it when the dozer has leveled the path. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” I ask, and then I hear loose gravel skip across the ground, and I turn to find Atlas leaning against the doorframe, watching me.
“Either you don’t believe me when I tell you that Loki can’t hear a word you say, or you simply don’t care,” he says.
“I don’t,” I reply, turning back to the horse who has fast become my favorite. “I thought you were headed inside for pie.”
“I was, then I thought I’d better check that you didn’t cut off your own arm putting the scythes away.”
“Look at that, he’s a comedian and a nudist,” I chuckle, and Loki stomps his hoof. I glance over my shoulder and find him right behind me.
“You should try it sometime,” he whispers, sending a shiver through me.
“I’ve never been very funny,” I reply, my heart beating double its pace. The air grows thick as he steps closer still, enveloping me in his sweet, earthy scent.
“I never thought we’d see you in anything but a three-piece suit, yet here you are lookin’ every bit the horseman. What are you afraid of?”
I take a steadying breath, but just get a lungful of him, and my head spins.
“What is it like?” I ask.
“Refreshing.”
“I mean, what is it like for you? Why do you do it? Is it something to do with the scars on your arms?” I ask, my stomach in knots the second the question is out of my mouth. “You don’t have to answer that. I just—“
