by Jean Carroll
Is this guy being pushy? I’m not getting involved no matter how hot he is.
“Come on, Cloudy girl; let’s see what this place has to offer.” She tacked the mare up and led her outside. She walked her over to the ring, entered and mounted up. The ring was a dream. It was so much more professional than at any other stable where she’d boarded. It was huge, beautifully leveled and maintained with lots of expensively made, creative jumps. Meg smiled at the happy little tingle in her belly.
TWO
Every day when Meg got to the stable, the stalls were cleaned and Blackie was grooming her horses.
“You don’t have to do all this. I can do it,” she told him. Not that she minded seeing him every day. His beautiful face and those big, blue eyes mesmerized her
He’s soooo hot! If testosterone had a name, it would be ‘Blackie’!
“Sure, and it’s my job. It’s a service for the boarders here. I don’t have any other horses to take care of right now, so this is fun for me.”
“Well, okay, I certainly appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome, then. Whatever I can do for you, just let me know,” he said while he brushed Sandman.
“Could I see the rest of the farm sometime?”
“Sure. Were you after riding this morning?”
“Yes, I wanted to.”
“Okay. After that I’ll give you the tour.”
“That would be great. Tell me about all the people who work here.”
Meg loved sitting there and watching him as he moved around working on the horses. He had to have the sexiest butt she’d ever seen on a man and the muscles in those long legs bulged when he moved. Every time he raised his arms to brush Sandman’s back, his tee shirt rode up so she got a peek at a hard, flat belly and amazing abs. His strong hands that caressed the horses every time he touched them fascinated her. She wondered how it would feel to have his hands caressing her.
Good Lord! Think about something else, you idiot.
He knew his way around a horse that’s for sure, doing an expert job of grooming and doing it efficiently. He didn’t take any grief from her antsy gelding that tried to get away with bad behavior. Sandy tried to nip him and Blackie said, “Stad,” to him in a low, gruff voice that she didn’t catch. The horse snorted and showed the whites of his eyes but seemed to think better of misbehaving. Here was somebody Sandy couldn’t bully.
“What did you say to him and what language was that?”
“I told him to stop. That was Irish or Gaelic as it’s also called.” He pronounced it guy-lick.
“That’s cool. Is that your first language?”
“Well, no, English is, but I grew up speaking both languages at home, so I sort of mix the two.”
“Where’s home?”
“I’m from Ireland, near Killarney. My parents still live there.”
“How come you came over here?”
“The story’s pretty much the same for everyone else here.” He said, deftly steering the conversation away from himself. “Keary Connelly’s the manager and Jilleen, his wife, does the books and takes care of all of us. Sean O’Brien trains the racing string, Casey O’Hara’s the jockey, Ned Moran is assistant trainer and the rest of us pick up the slack.” He turned around and caught her checking him out.
“This beast is done. Do you want me to tack him up, then?”
“No, I think I’ll ride Cloudy first,” she said, red-faced that he’d caught her looking.
“Sure,” he said with a slight smile and put Sandman back in his stall. He led Cloudy out and was saddling her when a young man came running in and said something to Blackie in Gaelic and Blackie answered him in the same language.
“What’s going on?” Meg asked.
“That was Casey. He needs me to help load horses going to the track. I’ll be back soon.”
He handed her Cloudy’s reins and took off at a trot. She noticed that limp was more pronounced today.
As Meg led Cloudy outside and swung into the saddle, she noticed two huge semis parked at another barn and a lot of activity going on. Blackie, Casey and a bunch of other men were loading horses, tack and equipment.
She concentrated on working Cloudy, warmed her up, worked the mare through gaits and basic exercises then started her over some fences. After about an hour, she slowed down the workout so the horse could cool off. Walking Cloudy around on a loose rein, she saw Blackie was leaning on the fence watching. She waved. He smiled and waved back. He met her at the gate, followed her into the stable and rubbed Cloudy down while she put her tack away and got Sandman’s stuff. While she tacked up the gelding, he finished with Cloudy.
“Why don’t you take him into the indoor hall so he won’t get distracted and he’ll be easier to handle? I’ll be there in a minute.”
Meg led Sandman over to another barn, which contained an impressive indoor riding hall. It was a huge rectangle with lettered signs at intervals around the walls and neatly raked crushed stone underfoot. It was dim until Blackie entered, flipped a bunch of switches, turning on lights that lit up the hall. She mounted and started the gelding through several gaits to warm him up and then worked him through basic moves. He was hard to handle and she wasn’t able to control him the way she wanted.
She cooled the horse down and walked over to where Blackie was standing. He smiled and her heart did a flip-flop. That smile really got to her
“You’re doing well with him, but I think he needs a stronger hand. I don’t mean you can’t ride him, I just mean he’ll be fine if he learns to behave. Sometime I’ll try him and see what I can do. That’s if you don’t mind me riding him?”
“Sure, I can use all the help I can get.”
Hmm, I wonder how good he is?
She rode Sandman back to his barn and Blackie walked beside them.
“You’re not saying much today.” Meg said.
“I’m just thinking about things I need to do. Hey, let’s put him away and get lunch up at the house, then I’ll give you the grand tour.”
“Actually, I can’t today, I forgot, I have errands to run before I go to work.”
“Shit. I want the others to get to know her. Maybe tomorrow.
“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” He smiled but didn’t look happy. He walked out of the barn and Meg finished up, got in her car and drove off. I wish I could stay, she thought as she turned out of the driveway, but I have too much to do.
That’s stupid. I can’t get too close to him. Having lunch with him. I need to keep things professional with this guy.
THREE
After a few weeks, Meg and Blackie settled into a routine. He’d clean the stalls and have both horses cross-tied in the aisle when she got there. He’d work on Sandman and Meg would groom Cloudy. She got a calm, relaxed feeling working so close with him, enjoying the smell of the horses, the feel of their sleek coats, and the physical effort doing work they loved
It’s cool being with a man who enjoys doing grunt work. I guess he wouldn’t be a groom if he didn’t.
She loved being near Blackie. He not only looked great, he smelled wonderful. Like soap, Old Spice and something else, very masculine, maybe leather. He didn’t let her get too near him though. If she did, he stepped back and somewhat nervously stood there staring at her.
Oh boy, the owners must not like the help getting too friendly with the clients. On the other hand, maybe he’s just shy. But that’s good. I won’t have to worry about him making a move on me.
Occasionally, Meg would bump into him on purpose, just to see what he’d do. He still moved away and gave her a look. Blackie, not exactly shy, was getting annoyed.
Crap, is she clumsy or just a tease? If she bumps into me one more time, I’m going to jump her right here in the aisle.
* * *
He started telling her Irish jokes while they worked. They were funny and mostly stupid. He delivered them in this thick Irish accent, so sometimes she could barely understand him.
Q: Why ca
n’t you borrow money from a leprechaun?
A: Cos they’re always a little short.
He said the punch line then grinned, if she laughed, then he laughed. He had a great laugh. It bubbled up from deep inside him and lit up his face even more than when he smiled. That smile. His smile was charming, sly and knowingly sexual but his laugh was pure, unadulterated, childish glee.
* * *
The next day she got there a little later than usual and Blackie had already finished the stalls and grooming. As she tacked up Cloudy, she heard a lot of shouting from the racing barn. She ran outside, looked in the direction of the noise and saw Blackie up on a horse, a tall, handsome, red-haired man in jeans holding the bridle and they were arguing.
Suddenly he yanked Blackie off the horse. Blackie pulled away and swung a punch at him but was off balance and the blow didn’t connect. The redhead let go of the horse and punched Blackie. Blackie responded with a solid hit that knocked the redhead to the ground. As Meg got closer, she realized they were shouting at each other in Gaelic. Two of the other men grabbed Blackie as the red-haired guy slowly got up. Casey stood there wide-eyed.
“What happened?” She asked, shocked and just as frightened as Casey looked. He glanced at her and hesitated, “Blackie’s not supposed to be riding and Sean tried talking him off, but he wouldn’t listen.”
Meg raised her eyebrows.
Oh, so that’s Sean O’Brien. He’s almost as cute as Blackie who has more nerve than brains because he’s going to be in crap up to his neck for punching his boss!
Blackie got loose, punched both of the guys who were holding him and they dropped like stones. Then he went after Sean again and hit him hard, knocking him to his knees. Blood started gushing out of his nose. Meg grimaced at the sight. They were still screaming at each other. Finally, Blackie turned, took his helmet off and threw it at Sean.
Sean yelled, “I got my orders from Keary, so take it up with him.”
“Fuck you and fuck Keary!” Blackie yelled and stomped off past Meg without seeing her. He stalked out of the barn and up toward the house.
“Isn’t he afraid of getting fired for doing that?” She asked Casey.
“Sack Blackie?” Casey said, staring at her as if she had two heads. “I don’t think that’s going to happen.”
This episode of violence scared Meg witless. What if this kind of thing happened a lot here? After all, it was only men at the farm, except the manager’s wife and Meg hadn’t met her yet. She wondered if Blackie had instigated the fight.
Maybe it’s just a guy thing and doesn’t happen often, I hope. I better go see if he’s hurt.
* * *
Blackie ran up to the pond so he could be alone. His gut twisted with rage. His
face flushed and his eyes filled with tears.
Shit! Damnit! Why can’t they leave me alone? Don’t they understand how much I miss racing? All I’ve ever wanted to do since I was a kid was race. God, I loved the way I felt when I raced. The speed, the lust I felt in my gut to win. Jesus, the adrenaline rush alone was like a drug. Driving a horse over the last fence to the finish line was so physical it was amazing. It’s a damn obsession and it’s gone. What the fuck is left and there’s nothing to replace it?
He picked up a stone and hurled it into the pond, blinking back tears. He whirled around when he heard a noise, his faced hardened with anger. It was Meg.
“Hey.” She said softly. When he saw her, his relaxed a little.
“Hey,” he said gruffly.
She moved closer and asked, “Are you okay?”
He turned back to the pond and said, “Sure.” He threw a few more stones in and then sat under a nearby tree. He glanced over and patted the ground next to him. “Come here.”
She hesitated then sat next to him. His mouth was bloody from Sean’s right cross. Her heart rate increased considerably. She got an overwhelming desire to kiss the hurt away.
What on earth am I thinking?
“What was that all about?”
“A difference of opinion.” He replied with a frown and a weary sigh.
“Casey said it was because you aren’t supposed to ride.”
“Casey has a big mouth,” he snapped.
“He didn’t say anything. I asked him. Why won’t Sean let you ride?”
He remained quiet for a moment and then said, “It’s complicated.”
“You won’t get fired will you?”
He laughed and said, “You ask a lot of questions.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. I just didn’t want you to lose your job.”
“Thanks,” he smiled at her. “Sean and I have been fighting like that since we were kids.”
“Oh.”
That doesn’t make any sense. Have they worked together since they were little? That’s very strange. Maybe Blackie’s family worked for the O’Brien’s back in Ireland. I’m confused.
“Listen,” he said. “I need to get cleaned up, so I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“I’m planning on being here. I hope you feel better.”
He got up, ruffling her hair and slowly walked to the barn with his hands stuffed in his jeans.
This whole incident completely unsettled her. She’d been relaxed around him and felt safe. But now that she’d seen this violent side to him, she was unsure about being alone with him at the barn. She didn’t like how she felt and decided to go home without riding.
She had a suspicion that there was a lot more to it than was obvious and he wasn’t talking.
* * *
The next day when Meg arrived, Blackie had both horses cross-tied in the aisle and
was grooming Sandman.
“Top of the morning to you, Miss Connors” he said, cheerfully. “How are you this fine day?”
“I’m terrific,” she said, glad he was in a better mood. She relaxed instantly and forgot her worries from yesterday. He had a whopper of a black eye but when he flashed that smile, she spotted an extra glint in those big, blue eyes.
He was bending over Sandman’s hoof when she asked him what he’d like her to do. He dropped the hoof; stood up, his eyes stopped briefly at her chest and then flickered up to her face.
He smiled and said, “We’ll find something for you to do, Miss Connors, in the meantime you could groom Cloudy.”
“Yes, sir.” She said and saluted him. “And stop calling me Miss Conners-it’s Meg.”
“Aye, I’ll do that, then.”
They were both busy grooming and working around the horses. She was cleaning Cloudy’s feet, bent over with her back to Blackie. When she stood up and turned, he was leaning one arm on Sandman’s back and had a currycomb in the other hand. He gave her a slow smile, his lids slightly lowered over smoldering eyes.
Uh-oh.
“I was just admiring you’re uh … hoof-cleaning technique.”
“Oh, really? I’ve been admiring yours for weeks.”
He raised his eyebrows, chuckled and said “Touché.”
She smiled a little flirty smile back at him,
“Let’s tack up Sandman first.” Christ, what am I doing, he thought. She’s young and innocent. She sure as hell doesn’t need a player like me.
So, Meg put Cloudy in her stall. They worked together, saddling and bridling and adjusting the leathers and he brushed up against her as often as he possibly could. Every time he did, she got a rush that surprised her. He led the gelding to the indoor arena. When she took the reins and went to mount, he was very close behind her, with his mouth next to her ear and said, “Can I give you a leg up?”
She stuck her leg out and he flipped her effortlessly into the saddle. She rode Sandman and he watched for almost an hour when his cell phone rang. He talked a minute and looked at his watch. He hung up and said, “I have to go. Meet me up at the house for lunch at one o’clock.”
Meg nodded and he was gone. She wasn’t sure what all the increased flirting was about but she liked it. She could still feel him near her.
FOUR
It took Meg a while to cool Sandman down and scrub the dried sweat off him. When she turned him out in the paddock, he was like a kid getting out of school. He kicked a happy hoof in the air and raced off to claim his freedom.
“Have fun, Sandy, you earned it.”
Meg paused to savor the sun’s reflection on his glistening coat and inhale the grass’s perfume.
Okay, time to go find that hunky groom.
Hustling up to the house, she knocked and a beautiful, auburn-haired woman answered.
“Hello,” she said with the same lilt to her voice as Blackie.
“Hi, I’m Meg Connors. Blackie said to meet him up here for lunch.”
“Oh yes, you have the new horses here. Come in. I’m Jill Connelly. It’s nice to finally meet you. He’s in the back room watching TV.” She led Meg through the welcoming kitchen and intimate dining room to a hallway.
“Just walk back there and it’s the last room you come to. Lunch will be served in about ten minutes.”
“Thank you, I’ll tell him.”
The house was incredible, elegant but decorated in warm tones and well-loved antiques. Her steps muffled by luxurious Persian carpets, her head swiveled to take in all the oil paintings of hunt and racing scenes. She followed the sound of a TV back to a large but cozy family room with an enticing u-shaped couch in front of a wall-sized TV. Blackie was lying there sound asleep.
He was breathing softly and totally relaxed, his boots off; dumped on the floor. He was more than enticing in those revealing jeans and hiked up tee shirt, exposing impressive abs. Meg had to squelch the impulse to touch him.
Get a grip. What’s the matter with you?
She did touch his arm lightly and said, “Blackie.”
He stirred, mumbling something and stretched lazily like a cat. He hypnotized her as his muscles rippled when he flexed each part of himself from head to toe.
She dared to touch him again and said, “Blackie, lunch is ready.”
He didn’t open his eyes and said softly, “Okay, thanks Jill.”
