by Jade Webb
She lifts her shoulder. “Men are all egos and arrogance. They routinely overestimate their skills and underestimate mine. So, it works to my advantage.”
I bite back a laugh and nod instead. She is so genuine and honest — this isn’t her bragging or showing off. I have no doubt that she could easily take care of herself. Her confidence is ingrained within her, almost radiating off her. It’s intimidating, but also sexy as hell.
“Anyways,” she says, disrupting my thoughts and forcing me back to our conversation. “I wanted to go over Isabel’s schedule for the week.”
I nod and lean forward in my chair. “Sounds good.”
“Good. Tomorrow we are have school in the morning, I’ll pick her up and then we’ll go to her piano lessons. Tuesday she has ballet after school. Wednesday I canceled everything for after school. Thursday, too. I wanted to use that time to start some training for basic self defense, so when she picks the karate studio she wants, she will be prepared. Then Friday, she has a birthday party dinner for a friend from school. They will also go see a movie, and I will stay with them. Saturday is open for projects and maybe a trip somewhere, we’ll see what she’s in the mood for. Sunday she’s free to spend the day with you. But I just need to know what the plan is so I can prepare.”
“I was thinking of just hanging out at home.”
Yael bites down on her lip, forcing back a smile. “You both enjoy spending time at home,” she remarks.
“And you don’t?”
She shakes her head, a hint of sadness entering her eyes. “No, home was not where I wanted to spend my time.”
“Oded had mentioned that your father had a pretty high-ranking position in the army.”
Yael nods. “My father was something like what you would call a General in the Israeli Army. We call it Tat Aluf. His whole life was the army. We lost my mother when I was just a kid, and he didn’t know what to do with me, so he raised me like I was one of the soldiers in his battalion. It was the only way he knew how to parent me.”
“So you didn’t have a father as much as you had a commanding officer?”
My question brings a smile to the corner of her lips and she nods her head. “Yeah, exactly. His way to love me was to show me how to be self-sufficient. He would do the weirdest things, too. Lock me in the trunk of his car and time how long it took me to escape, tie me up in ropes and have me work my way out. While the other girls in my grade would go to the beach or parties, I was learning how to make a compass out of sewing needles.”
“Your father sounds like an intimidating man.”
She lifts her shoulder again as she looks away — another move of hers I am beginning to recognize as a gesture she often makes me when she wants to change the subject. She is not someone who enjoys talking much about herself, though I find myself growing increasingly fascinated by her.
“You’re staring again.”
I jerk my head, sending my thoughts scattering. Yael’s brown eyes are pointed, watching me.
“Sorry,” I mumble clumsily before taking a quick drink from my beer.
“Why do you stare at me so often?” she asks.
I look up at her, unable to hide my surprise at her frank question. After all, I wasn’t even entirely sure why I stared at her so often. Obviously, she was beautiful and I was a man who appreciated beautiful things. But it was more than that. I was attracted to her, and not just on a physical level.
Still, I don’t want to scare her off so I open my mouth to come up with some excuse. But when I look at her, and see her watching me, I snap my mouth back closed. Screw it, I might as well tell her the truth. After all, something I would never need to worry about is Yael lying to me. Might as well extend her the same courtesy.
“You’re beautiful,” I answer, “And I find you fascinating.”
To my surprise, a dark crimson floods her cheeks and she pulls her assessing eyes away to look down at the bottle in her hands. I’m momentarily taken aback: I didn’t think a woman like Yael could blush. She was all edges and quick barbs and eye rolls and seeing her blush from such a simple, understated compliment made me realize that she probably hadn’t received too much flattery in her life, which was absolutely baffling to me.
She opens her mouth to say something, but quickly snaps it closed. Abruptly, she stands in her seat and forces a smile to her face. “Thank you for helping me with Isabel’s schedule. I will see you tomorrow.”
And before I have a chance to say another word, she’s gone. She runs away so quickly, it catches me completely off guard. I hate the idea that I might have made her uncomfortable, but there’s something about her that I find so attractive. But judging by how quickly she just ran away, I can’t help but think this is a one-sided attraction. After all, Yael is young and has the world at her feet. I’m tied down: A single dad who works sixty plus hours a week.
And while, admittedly, the realization is a tough pill for me to swallow, I decide that perhaps, it is a blessing in disguise. I haven’t even thought about the possibility of dating another woman in years. And maybe this is my sign from the universe that it’s time.
11
Yael
“Dad, where are we going?” Isabel asks suspiciously from the back seat as Lawrence makes another left-hand turn.
I’m wondering the same thing myself. A few hours ago, Lawrence had marched into the house with instructions to be ready to leave in fifteen minutes. It had been a lazy Sunday and Isabel and I had been lounging in the living room, our limbs stretched over the couch as we watched SpongeBob reruns. Even though I’ve only been working for Lawrence for just over two weeks, I had settled into a comfortable routine with Isabel, especially now that she didn’t have so many commitments and lessons to run off to each day. Lately, Lawrence was working around the clock, so when he had announced that we were going on an adventure, Isabel and I had both been surprised and admittedly, a bit excited.
And now, forty-five minutes later, Isabel and I are both staring out the windows, trying to figure out where it is Lawrence is taking us. Only when he finally pulls off the highway and turns onto a dirt road off the exit does Isabel clap her hands and squeal with excitement, finally realizing where we are headed. I turn in my seat to look at her.
“Where are we?” I ask her.
Isabel smiles, her blue eyes twinkling with the same excitement I saw in her father’s earlier. “We’re at the ranch!”
“The ranch?” And just as the question leaves my lips, we pass by a wooden sign with a rope lasso decorating the edges. Calveston Ranch.
“What do we do at a ranch?” I ask.
“Ride horses!” Isabel squeals, and I feel my stomach drop as soon as the words leave her mouth.
“Horses?” I ask, my voice dry. A wave of nausea rolls right through me. I am not afraid of many things in this world: I’ve experienced grenades and IED’s, exchanged gunfire and experienced my first — and last — Black Friday at an American mall, so I have seen some frightening things. But horses? Horses are where I draw the line. You can find them adorable and cute, but I see a different side of those beasts, thanks to the horse that threw me when I was ten years old, inspiring a lifelong fear of the animal.
“Are you okay?” Lawrence asks, looking over at me. He pulls the car into an empty parking spot and Isabel immediately jumps out and races toward the entrance.
Shaking my head, I force a weak smile to my face. “I think I’ll just wait here in the car for you both.”
Lawrence quirks his brow, his emerald eyes assessing me. “Are you…are you afraid of horses?”
“No!” I quickly answer. But it’s too late, and I’m sure my body is radiating all the anxiety I am currently feeling. Much to my annoyance, a large smile stretches across Lawrence’s face as he easily reads my nervous energy.
“I almost don’t believe it,” he says, shaking his head. “Yael is actually afraid of something?”
I glare at him and cross my arms at my chest. “I am not afraid. I just
prefer to stick with my own species.”
Lawrence bites back a laugh as he slides out the door. He jogs to my door and before I have the chance to lock it, he opens it. Leaning into the car, he holds out his hand. “I promise to protect you.”
I narrow my eyes at him, which only seems to delight him further. I unclip my seatbelt and push past him. “I don’t need you to protect me,” I say as I walk away.
“That’s my girl,” I hear him say behind me. I whip around to to throw him another another dark glare, but my annoyance only seems to make his smile even wider.
As we walk inside, I rub my sweaty palms against the front of my jeans. I hate horses. My last attempt on a horse had lasted exactly thirty-seven seconds. Then the bastard had thrown me and I had broken my damn arm. My father had been furious at all the weeks I would lose from my training. And every time I saw a horse, I was reminded of that day and the injury not only to my arm, but to my pride. I also had a sneaking suspicion that horses were much smarter than they let on and those bastards knew I was scared of them and enjoyed intentionally screwing with me.
Still, I force my feet to move and follow Lawrence as he speaks with the ranch hand. I’m still determined to find a way out of this, though and my eyes dart quickly around the room, searching for any kind of excuse or escape plan.
“Lawrence?” the ranch hand exclaims as he sees him. “Man, it’s been too long. How are you?”
Lawrence smiles and shakes the man’s hand. “Doing well, Ryan, how have you been?”
“Doing great. Man, Isabel has gotten so big!” he comments as he watches her rush toward the horses with a carrot in her hand.
“Time flies,” Lawrence replies. “Which is why I’m here today. I want to sneak in as much time as I can with my girl before she realizes I’m not cool anymore.”
Ryan chuckles and nods his head knowingly. “Nice, so you’ll be needing a horse then, and the pony for Isabel?”
“Actually two horses, please.”
Ryan’s eyes instantly jump to me, standing a few feet away. I can read the confusion on his face as he takes in my jeans, black boots, and plain white V-neck. Next to Lawrence’s perfectly pressed light-blue button down and khaki slacks, I look so obviously out of place.
“Uh, of course. Two horses and a pony coming up,” Ryan says as he finally tears his eyes away from me.
Stepping forward, I wave my hand to stop him. “No, actually the one horse is fine. I’ll be hanging back.”
Lawrence smiles at Ryan and holds up his hand, gesturing for him to wait as he turns around to face me. “Do I need to remind you that you’re on the clock?” he asks, a playful and challenging spark in his eye.
My mouth drops open in annoyance. “Not if I quit,” I threaten.
Lawrence quirks his brow at the challenge. “You join us on the ride and I’ll give you a thousand-dollar bonus today.”
I stare at him in disbelief, as does Ryan behind him. “Is that offer extended to all of us?” he asks.
Lawrence laughs and shakes his head. “Just her.” He shakes his head disappointedly as he looks down at his watch. “The offer does expire, you know. I’ll need an answer now.”
Before I can respond, I feel Isabel’s hand slip into mine. “If you’re scared, Yael, you can ride with me,” she offers. “I just really want you to come with us.”
When she looks up at me, with her hopeful eyes, I feel my resolve weaken. Biting my lip, I look down at her, then to the row of horses tethered outside. I already know I’m going, though: I’m hopeless against her and those damn baby blues.
“Okay,” I say on a sigh.
“Actually, I would not recommend her riding with Isabel,” Ryan interrupts, turning to me. “If you are having some reservations, I would recommend you ride with Lawrence here, who is an experienced rider.”
I quickly shake my head. “No, there’s no need.”
“Yael, it’s okay. I’ll take the lead. All you’ll need to do is hold on.”
I open my mouth to protest again, but when I see Isabel watching me, I snap my mouth closed and simply nod.
Isabel claps and jumps up and down, and seeing her excitement kills my urge to run and hide. Still, I continue to search for any opportunity to escape, and even find myself praying for an alien invasion or some kind of zombie apocalypse to get me out of this. Kicking some undead ass would be a hell of a lot easier than riding on this death machine.
After signing away my life on a disclaimer form, it’s time to mount. I feel my heart pounding against my chest as I stare at the beast in front of me.
“His name is Flopsy,” Ryan tells us as he passes by me to help saddle Isabel’s pony.
“Flopsy?” It’s not the most appropriate name for the massive horse standing in front of us. His sleek black hair shines in the sun and he stomps the ground, eager to escape the confines of the tethered pen.
“Why don’t you give him a carrot? Soften him up?” Ryan offers as he passes me a carrot.
I play with the carrot in my hands before holding it up a few inches away from the horse’s mouth. I hold my breath as I slowly inch the carrot closer and when it’s finally within reach, I squeeze my eyes closed as I feel the horse grab the carrot out my hand. When I feel a warm, wet scraping on my hand my eyes shoot open to find Flopsy licking my palm. I squeal as I jump away, almost falling on my ass.
I take a moment to brace myself and let out a breath as I turn to see Lawrence watching me, an amused smile on his face.
“Ready?” he asks as he arches his brow, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. The bastard is actually enjoying this.
I take a step back and shake my head “no” just as his hands grip my waist, hoisting me into the air. For the second time in under sixty seconds, I squeal in surprise as I land on the horse. Instinctively, I swing my leg over the side as I force myself to breathe and hold on for dear life.
“Could you not have warned me?” I shout down at him once I’m settled on the horse. Flopsy pounds his hooves into the dirt, shifting me, and I tighten my grip on the reigns.
“I’m coming up,” Lawrence says, ignoring my shooting glare. “Can you scoot forward a bit?”
Slowly, I push myself forward, careful to squeeze my thighs tightly so I don’t slip off. Lawrence hooks his foot into the saddle and with a grunt, throws his leg over the horse and settles in behind me. Though I hate to admit it, feeling the warmth of his hard body behind me is comforting, especially on this death trap disguised as a “Flopsy.”
“Ready?” Lawrence asks, dipping his lips to my ear. His warm breath sends a shiver through me and I force myself to nod. Picking up the reigns, Lawrence shouts out a “hiya!” and urges the horse forward.
“You’re going to lead, Isabel!” he calls out to Isabel, who is already leading and a good ten feet ahead of us.
I continue clutching the reigns, my heart racing every time they slip with Flopsy’s movement. When he jumps over a small tree stump, I gasp and press my back against Lawrence. My hands instinctively reach for him and I dig my hands into his thighs on either side of me and suck in a breath.
“How much longer?” I ask between pants of breath.
I hear Lawrence chuckle behind me and I dig my nails even deeper into his thighs, which are irritatingly firm and muscular.
His breath skims my neck as he leans down. “We’ll go for another twenty minutes, then we can break for lunch,” he says in my ear. “In the meantime, try to relax a bit. The horse won’t throw you and I’ve got you.” As if to reassure me, he squeezes my hips, centering me on the horse. In response, I slowly loosen my grip on his thighs, but keep my hands planted there for balance. After a few long moments, I finally start to relax and let my body melt against his.
“There you go,” he says as he feels me relax. “The horse can sense if you’re anxious. Try to push away the nerves. Think about something else. Tell me about that scar by your elbow.”
“How do you know about my scar?” I ask him.
I feel him shrug behind me. “I noticed it.”
“You are creepily observant,” I tell him, eliciting another rumbling chuckle. “I got it when I was around Isabel’s age, actually. I was climbing a tree and I fell.”
“Ah, I have one of those on my knee,” he responds.
“Really?” I ask, unable to contain the obvious surprise in my voice.
“What is that supposed to mean?” he asks, picking up on my surprise.
“Nothing,” I say with a shrug. “It’s just that I pictured you as more of an…indoor kid.”
“An indoor kid?”
“Yeah, like you enjoyed playing indoors. You would play with your toys or your video games.”
“Huh,” Lawrence responds. “Do I really look that dorky to you?”
“You don’t look dorky. But you don’t look like an outdoorsy mountain man either.”
“And there’s no middle ground there?”
I laugh. “No, you’re right. Let me adjust my original statement. You look more like one of those kids who participated in organized activities.” I tilt my head to look up at him and feel a momentary shiver run through me when I see that his emerald eyes are watching me intently. “Let me guess. Lacrosse? I hear all the rich boys in America play lacrosse. Or water polo!”
I feel Lawrence tense behind me. I sneak another look back at him and see an annoyed expression on his face. When he sees me looking at him, he shoots me a playful scowl.
I suck back a breath as my body shakes in a poor attempt to hold back my laughter. “Oh my God! I was right! Which one was it? Lacrosse or water polo?” When he doesn’t respond, my mouth drops open and I turn to look at him, my eyes wide with disbelief. “Don’t tell me it’s both? Was it both?”
His silence is all I need to answer my question, and my body continues to vibrate with laughter. “I can’t believe it. Everything I saw on American TV is true! Please tell me that you also wear those pink shorts with the little whales stitched on them!”
