Secondhand Heart

by Amity Lassiter

  "You probably noticed this guy," he said, as they approached the stall where Tank's head hung out over the door. The gelding nickered to them, extending his muzzle in an invitation Lily took up, stroking between his eyes in that gentle, circular thing she did with Encore that seemed to calm him.

  "I did. Client?"

  "Not quite. He used to be, though. He was a Reicher colt that Dane put the work on. They've had him a few years, and he turned out to be a hell of a little horse."

  She leaned ahead, peering into the stall, and noticed Tank's short stature. "You're not exaggerating. What is he? 14.1? Maybe 14.2?"

  Finn smiled, remembering how awkward Dane had looked on the gelding, with his long legs hanging below the horse's belly. They measured horses in hands; four inches per, and to qualify as a horse, they had to be at least fourteen hands and two inches… "14.1."

  Lily clued in immediately.

  "He's just a pony!"

  "Exactly. Heart of a horse three times his size, though—just not as far to fall. He'd carry you all day and never tire."

  She glanced up at him, and he watched her brow furrow, and then slowly smooth as she worked out what he was getting at.

  "This is my surprise?"

  Her expression was hard to read now. He nodded, leaning against the stall door as she glanced back at the gelding. "He's for you."

  "You got me a pony." Her tone was so flat he laughed out loud. Encore had at least eight, maybe ten inches on Tank. Despite technically being considered a pony, most of the ranch horses were short, stout little engines like him, but Finn could see how, comparing him to her other horse, she might struggle to get past the pony thing.

  "He's sensitive but not quick. Level headed. And low to the ground." The things she needed. The things Encore wasn't.

  "That's…Finn." She sucked in a breath, and so did he, and then the gelding nudged her to encourage her to pet him again. She slid her hand along the gelding's jaw, then scratched her way up behind his ear. Tank leaned into the scratches, his prehensile upper lip wiggling with pleasure as she reached the sweet spot. At least they'd hit it off. "He is a lovely horse, but this is too much."

  Her voice had lowered to a trembling whisper. Maybe it was too much. But it was something he could do to try to make better the one thing he wasn't sure he could.

  When she looked up, her eyes were filled with tears. He hadn't expected that. Anger, maybe, if not happiness, but not sadness.

  "Hey," he said, reaching out to touch her hand, then her shoulder, then to cup her face lightly in his palm, brushing one escapee off her cheek. She closed her eyes, turning her cheek against his hand. "I didn't mean to make you cry."

  And he would have done anything to fix it. He knew her dream was to ride her own horse again, but every day made him more sure it wouldn't happen the way she wanted it to—at least not here, because he didn't have the intestinal fortitude to watch her try after he'd seen the quick work the gelding had made of his saddle the first day they'd put it on.

  He shuffled closer, brushing her hair back from her face with his other hand, and pressed a kiss to her lips. Her eyes were still closed when he pulled away.

  Her voice broke. "Does this mean you're done with Encore?"

  The pain in her voice made his heart ache. Using his fingers on the back of her neck, he tipped her head back and waited until she opened her eyes so she could see him shake his head. "No. I told you I'd see this through. But I want you to have options in the meantime."

  She needed to understand he wasn't quitting, but the look on her face didn't give him much confidence.

  "You love riding. And you're good at it. But I know how hard it can be to mentally overcome a wreck. So I'm just thinking maybe you need a partner with a clean slate for a bit. Just while you get your confidence back. Then we'll see what happens with Encore. It's only been a couple of weeks. We've got lots of time. Alright?"

  She drew in breath, blinked slowly, and then nodded. "Alright."

  Everything inside him that had tensed in anticipation for a much bigger struggle released. He hadn't intended to cross this bridge quite this way but he was glad it was out of the way now. Drawing her closer, he pressed a kiss to her forehead and she wound her arms around his waist, and then pushed up on her toes to catch his lips.

  "Thank you," she murmured against his mouth.

  He slid his hand over her hair, changing the angle of the kiss and took her mouth. The sweet cooler on her lips was nothing compared to the taste of her, and when she dragged her hands around his hips, slipping her cool fingers in underneath his coat and shirt, across his abdomen, he groaned. The heady combination of her touch, her taste, and her smell was drugging.

  Taking two steps forward, he pressed her back to a stack of hay bales, and then slid his hands along her bottom, lifting her onto them to close the height difference a bit more comfortably. Lily let out a little yelp of surprise, then spread her knees and made a space for him, drawing him closer with her hands on his sides.

  Deftly, he worked at the coat buttons he'd so carefully done up earlier, exposing her neck and collar bone, and moved on to the buttons on her shirt. Judging by the heat rolling off her skin and through his body, they needn't have worried about the cold in the first place. He slid his mouth over her jaw, to her neck, and she let out a tight breath in a hiss, tipping her head to allow him more access. Her knees tightened against his hips.

  "Finn." He slid his tongue over the column of her throat, smiling and letting his breath cool the spots his mouth had dampened. And when she repeated his name, all full of ache and need—the exact way he felt—he bore his teeth down into her flesh lightly and her whole body jerked. Closer. Tighter. "You don't know what you're doing to me."

  "Oh, I think I have an idea." He chuckled against her skin. She whimpered when he traced his fingers along the empty buttonholes of her shirt. Maybe it was because it had been so long since he tried, but he loved her enthusiastic response to the tiniest things. It made him feel like the man he'd known himself to be when Sunny had been alive, not the sad shell of a man he'd been masquerading as for the last few years. Capable of loving on and being loved by a woman.

  "Then you're just being cruel," she panted as he slipped his hand into her shirt, cupping one breast and rolling her nipple lightly under his thumb before lifting her out of the cup of her bra and exposing it to the cool air. Her fingers tightened against his sides at the same time her nipple hardened, and then he dropped his mouth to press a wet-lipped kiss to the end of it.

  She arched her back, offering herself more readily and he obliged, drawing her into his mouth and taking a not-so-gentle pull of her flesh. A strangled noise escaped her and when he moved to pull back, her hands moved from his sides, curling into fists in his hair.

  —THIRTY-FOUR—

  Lily wasn't one hundred percent sure how they got there between kisses and touches, or undetected, but she lifted her head when Finn pushed the door of the cabin open. He set her down just inside and stripped her of the coat in half the time it had taken him to help her into it, toeing off his boots and shrugging out of his own coat before he cupped her face in both hands, crushing his mouth to hers like he couldn't get enough. She could relate, and she pushed up on her toes to match him, kiss for kiss.

  "Oh hell," he muttered then, anchoring his hands under her ass and sliding her body up against his. She broke away from him, letting out a little screech, but then got the idea when he slid his hand along the back of her jean-clad thigh, encouraging her to wind her legs around his waist. If she had had to support herself, she would have fallen, but he cradled her like it was nothing. She wasn't a small girl and she'd never really trusted anyone to hold her like this, but when she put her arms around his neck, felt his shoulders flex and tighten, she felt more secure than she had in a long time, in a lot of different ways. "Hang on."

  Lily buried her mouth against Finn's throat as he crossed the small floor space of the cabin toward the bedrooms in the back. Inst
ead of turning right, he turned left, and before she knew what was happening, he was laying her on her gently in the middle of his queen sized bed and pulling his shirt off over his head. She hadn't been in his bedroom before, and she barely had time to take in anything, including the broad expanse of his chest, before Finn followed her onto the bed, pressing hot kisses along her throat, then down to the spot where he'd stopped unbuttoning her shirt in the barn.

  He made quick work of the rest of the buttons, nudging the shirt open to expose her bra and belly to the lamplight. There had been times before, other partners, where she would have asked to close the door, turn off the lights. But this was different. Even though he hadn't been around for the recovery period, Finn had already seen her body in various states of mutiny, and that somehow negated the vulnerability of being exposed to him.

  She lifted her hips as he peeled her jeans down over them, her heart pounding in her throat. His eyes shifted to her bikini line, and she felt his finger trace along it before he hooked it in the waistband of her panties, tugging them down to expose the four tiny black horseshoes.

  "What's this?" he asked, working her underwear the rest of the way down her legs and putting his mouth on the ink. She let out a frustrated moan and pushed her fingers into his hair. Between the hot kiss before they'd left the house earlier and the make out session in the barn, it would have taken no effort at all to send her soaring, but he took his time, circling his tongue over her skin again.

  "Really?" she ground out, curving up from the pillow to watch him. He lifted his head and smiled at her, slipping his hands to grip her thighs from beneath and ease her legs apart. A hiss slid out of her.

  "Really."

  "I got it after I logged my first thousand miles."

  "A thousand miles," he said, letting his warm breath flow over her exposed center. "Impressive."

  She lifted her head again, shaking it with a rueful smile. "Finn Baylor, I will tell you about every one of those miles. After."

  Laughing, he turned his head, despite her attempts to direct him elsewhere, and sank his teeth lightly into the soft flesh of her inner thigh. Her back arched up, her hips pressing into the bedspread as her thighs fell apart.

  "After what?"

  He didn't give her time to respond, because then he put his mouth on her and her head dropped back onto the bed, her eyes falling shut. Her heart did double-time, ricocheting around in her chest while she tried to figure out which way was up. She curled her fingers into the bedspread by her hips, hoping to ground herself, to hold on just a minute longer, but she was rushing too quickly toward an orgasm. And then his fingers found hers, twining their digits together, and she lifted her head, making eye contact with him. Closing her lower lip between her teeth, she let out short breaths through her nose, finding her footing as she watched him.

  She shouldn't have been surprised by the easy, methodical way Finn's mouth worked, with just enough pressure to keep her on the edge but not enough to push her over. He read her body the same way he read the horses he worked with, watchful, until she was squirming, her fingernails digging into the back of his hand, her breaths coming quick and short.

  Still, he waited. Until she was sure she was dying, deconstructing at a cellular level, pleasure simmering in her veins with no release in sight.

  Desperate, she sighed his name, her eyes squeezed shut.

  "Mmm?" The vibration at the apex of her thighs made jump.

  "Finn." It was what he was waiting for, because then he shifted, and finally, finally, she tipped off the other side of the mountain of pleasure he'd pushed her up. He didn't stop until she was completely spent, her legs like jelly, her chest heaving and the one hand that was still in his hair tugged, because she couldn't possibly handle a second more. He moved up her body, a slow smile crinkling the corners of his eyes as he cupped her face in one big palm and pressed their foreheads together. Everything inside her trembled with unspoken emotion.

  "I need you."

  *

  He didn't have to be told twice, but still, anxiety pressed at the back of Finn's throat as he offered her a smile he hoped looked braver than it felt, and shifted off the bed. His fingers shook a little when he opened the box and pulled a condom out, making quick work of the foil wrapping.

  Lily watched him from the bed, her lips tucked between her teeth, those bright cocoa-colored eyes tracking all of his movements. Her hair spread out on the dark bedding like a halo. He prayed for control, but should have known better. Because never, in five years, had he ever imagined himself in a position to make love to another woman besides Sunny—to want to make love to another woman. Not just another woman—Lily. There was something about her that had woken up parts of him he was sure had died with his wife, and no matter what happened, he'd always be grateful for that. And the way she looked at him—like he was all she wanted in this world… his chest constricted at the thought. She turned her palms over and reached one hand out toward him and he found his way back to the bed.

  He felt her fingers at his neck, tracing down over his shoulder as he shifted, sliding his forearm under her to support her head, and his free hand along her hip, to her knee, making a space for himself. His mouth covered hers as he moved again, sinking into her warmth. She let the softest noise into his mouth, her body arching up into him.

  A long breath blew out of him as he settled, landing kisses on her forehead, her eyelids, her lower lip. The sensation of her so close, so warm, her body so soft and willing, was almost more than he could bear, and he didn't move, just so he could hang onto that feeling for just a little longer. When he tipped his head back, she looked up at him and smiled in a way that loosened that tight fist on his heart. This woman was incredible.

  The hand that had been on his neck slid down his shoulder blades, following his spine until she hit his lower back, pressing her fingers into his flesh at the same time she tipped her hips. He groaned, dropping his mouth against her collarbone. He couldn't put it off a second longer. Need, desire, and something a little deeper than that—something that tingled right at the base of his heart and pulled on his soul—overwhelmed him and he moved, finding a slow, easy pace within her.

  The soft sighs and gentle noises of appreciation Lily made encouraged him, pushing him further. And too soon, she tightened around him, her voice rising as they found release together.

  His heart thundering like a herd of wild horses, Finn slumped forward with his eyes closed, then rolled onto his side, bringing her with him, unwilling to break the contact just yet. For a time, the only noise in the room was their heavy breathing. Lily shifted her hand to cup his jaw much as she had on the night of their date. It seemed so long ago, now, that he'd made the conscious decision to want her, because now he couldn't imagine a different choice. Until she killed the silence with words that shattered him.

  "I think I'm in love with you, Finn Baylor."

  —THIRTY-FIVE—

  "What the hell is that?" Finn raised a brow as Lily led Tank out of the barn into the crisp fall morning. The horse was outfitted in the brightest orange tack he'd ever seen. Not poor quality, discolored leather, but safety orange. She looked back at the horse's bridle and breastplate, and then back at him with the most confused expression he'd ever seen.

  "What?"

  "It looks like a road pylon."

  "What, my tack?" She looked back again at the offending items, and slid her hands over the reins.

  "I don't know what the hell kind of leather…"

  "Beta biothane," she interrupted.

  "Well, that explains everything. Except why it's such an obnoxious color and how the hell anyone could have missed you in that." He saw her body tense for just a moment, and then a soft laugh bubbled out of her. It was a good sound, and it warmed his insides. Almost as much as waking her this morning with a soft kiss, their bodies entwined, with the sun streaming in on them. He couldn't have thought of a more peaceful way to wake.

  It had taken him a few extra minutes after
she'd dozed off, her soft, even breathing the only noise in the room, to loosen the stranglehold her last words had had on his chest. In the light of day, he could dismiss them as something she'd said in the heat of the moment. Her enthusiasm this morning about the gift he'd given her the night before erased almost all thought of it—except the little leap his heart did when Tank had buried his forehead against her chest and she'd smiled up at him like he was the best thing since sliced bread.

  She led the horse across the ring to him and swung the reins over Tank's neck.

  "I think it suits him," she said simply, a cheeky little grin highlighting the dimple near each corner of her mouth.

  "You're damn lucky you're cute."

  Lily winked over her shoulder at him, then moved to the saddle. He still drew the line at her silly little insecure treeless saddle—for now, anyway, while she was figuring out how to get herself onto the horse. Soon, she'd override his decision on that, too. Like she'd crossed every barrier and wall he'd put in place to protect the status quo. She couldn't help it, it seemed. She loved a challenge.

  He watched her lips form a firm line as she focused on the stirrup, lifting her leg. Too soon, he moved in to help, but she brushed him off. "I gotta figure out how to do this myself eventually."

  "Alright." He backed off a bit, giving her the opportunity to try on her own. It wasn't nearly as painful as her first attempt to get on Buckshot, mostly because Tank was so much closer to the ground. She managed to get her toe into the stirrup, bouncing on one foot a few times before she pushed off. About halfway into the saddle, her movement stalled. It made sense—it wasn't just range of motion that was problematic for her, but strength. He had confidence that with the right amount of work and practice, those long-discarded muscles would support her soon. She clung to the side of the gelding, her tongue poking out between her lips as she focused on trying to drag herself the rest of the way into the saddle. Tank stood still as a rock. He gave her about three seconds before he intervened, popping his shoulder under her ass so quick she couldn't think about it.