She peeked over the half door into the immaculate stall and found two soulful brown eyes gazing back at her. “She looks pretty friendly.”
“She is. That’s why I’m letting you ride her,” he commented casually, as if he hadn’t just lowered the boom.
“No…I don’t think so.” Georgia shook her head, backing away. Taking a few calculated risks to secure an interview was one thing, but getting up on a horse and breaking her neck for a story was another.
Holding the rope, Harlan marched into the stall and moved to put it around Jess’s neck.
“Wait,” Georgia begged, “You really don’t need to do that.”
Ignoring her, Harlan tossed the rope around Jess’s neck and led the monstrosity out of the stall. Jess’s feet clop, clop, clopped over the floor, sending shockwaves through Georgia.
“I am not riding,” she explained, while she followed them, staring at the horse’s mammoth rump and swishing black tail. “Honestly, I’m not doing it.”
“Oh, but you will,” he said, leading Jess to a saddling station on the opposite side of the tack area.
Did he not just hear her? “I. Do. Not. Ride. Horses.” Georgia enunciated every word so there would be no confusion.
“A shame. Then it looks like you’re out of luck, Peach.” Harlan casually flung a blanket over Jess’s back and then a saddle.
What is this crazy man up to? “What do you mean, a shame?” She asked with her heart pumping. “And stop calling me Peach.”
He shifted to her, bending in a way that forced her to look him in the eye. “You wanted me to take you to Boone’s house. This is how we get there, Peach.” He shrugged, sauntering over to a wall and grabbing a bridle with reins off a hook. “If you don’t want to go to Boone’s house, you should go ahead and drive back to town.”
It took a moment for what Harlan was suggesting to sink in. Incredulously, she watched him keep his back to her and slip the bit into the horse’s mouth. Then he swung the reins over Jess’s neck.
“Are you kidding me?” She stormed over to Harlan and tapped his shoulder, because he was obviously having a hard time with the fact that she had no intention of getting on that horse and had no intention of explaining why. “There are no roads around here? You expect me to believe that?”
Jess snorted, making Harlan grin at her. “Exactly what I was thinking,” he cooed, petting the horse’s sleek neck. He turned back to Georgia, eyeing her carefully, studying her as if this was a test of some kind. “You can believe whatever you want.” He tossed the words without a care and strode back down the aisle with the stalls and poked his head in the stall next to Jess’s. He beckoned Georgia closer.
“Fine,” she muttered, marching over to him with her hands fisted. Harlan raised his brows and shrugged, trying to act like he couldn’t understand why she was so upset. Dismissing her with a nod, he stepped to the side so she could get a good look at a golden horse with a white mane.
“Delilah is Boone’s, a palomino, and this beauty, Morticia,” Harlan explained, sauntering to the stall directly in front of Delilah’s, “belongs to Colt.”
Georgia took in the sight of a magnificent, all-black horse. “Humph.” She observed all three. “Delilah, Morticia, and a girl named Jess. All females, huh? Fine. What’s the point?”
“Mares.” A flash of humor crossed his face. “We have a thing for women.”
She raised her brows. “No doubt.”
“The point is, we all ride.”
She eyed him again and didn’t see even the tiniest trace of a joke. “You are serious.”
“What’ll it be? Am I taking you to Boone’s, or are you driving back to town?” Harlan draped an arm over Morticia’s door, and the horse moseyed over to investigate. He stroked her muzzle and half-turned to Georgia. “Well?”
“Good gravy.” Propping her hands on her hips, Georgia swiveled from Morticia to Delilah, mentally going over the complications of being broke. “What the hell, I guess.” After coming this far, she couldn’t give up on Boone’s story now. “But if I’m going to ride, I’m going to need boots.”
Harlan pointed. “There’s a box against the wall, next to the door in the tack room. Help yourself.”
Georgia beat Harlan and his ride down the aisle, turned the corner, and spotted the box. While Harlan saddled Delilah, Georgia rummaged through pairs of clunky, worn-out boots discarded by ranch hands, or random strangers with huge feet and a penchant for mud. She snagged a pair of size tens, the smallest she could find. After shaking them upside down, and checking for spiders, she joined Harlan by the horses.
Jess and Delilah were ready to go. Harlan leaned against a wall, hands jammed in his pockets, waiting.
“You wouldn’t happen to have an extra pair of socks around here?” She asked turning the boots upside down and shaking them again.
“’Fraid not.” Harlan gave her a what’s a man supposed to do? Grin.
“Fine.” Georgia peered inside the dark, mud-crusted, scuffed boots and slipped out of her heels.
“I don’t need anyone suing me for a broken foot,” Harlan complained, snarling.
“I wouldn’t sue you for your information,” Georgia snapped, giving him a scowl before balancing on her right foot and tentatively slipping the other into the cool, hopefully clean interior. She wiggled her toes in all the extra space and breathed a sigh of relief when she didn’t feel anything clumpy or nasty.
“You can hang on to me if you want,” Harlan pushed off the wall, and approached her.
She gave him a double take, stifling the urge to shout don’t come near me. “No, no, no. No, thank you.”
“I’ll help you get the other one on.”
Georgia sucked in a breath as Harlan kneeled in front of her anyway, sending a waft of manly mulberry smell to her nose.
“Ahhh, you didn’t have to do that.” She exhaled, staring down at the top of his hat. When he didn’t budge, she decided to just get on with it and braced her hand on his broad shoulder. A mini fireworks explosion ignited in her belly, and she tried to sluff it off, but then her ears got hot.
Harlan glanced up, ensnaring her in his stare. Was she imagining the sizzling current running between them? Was she having some sort of chemical reaction? A breakdown? Georgia bit her bottom lip. “Thanks.” She felt her heartbeat pulsing in her cheeks. “Like a cowgirl Cinderella,” she joked, shakily making light of it while her feet swam in the boots.
“Guess that makes me a prince.” Harlan straightened, scooping up her shoes. “Now you’re ready. Left foot in the stirrup.”
Still probably in a full blush, Georgia steeled herself, feeling the heat of Harlan towering over her from behind. Gritting her teeth, she reached up over Jess and grabbed the horn, hearing the leather squeak while lifting her foot, but couldn’t reach the stirrup.
“Try again.”
“I’ll get it. I will.” She straightened her shirt and took hold of the horn again. Just as she was lifting her foot, a powerful set of hands cupped her butt and pushed her up onto the saddle before she knew what was happening. “Hey!” she scolded from midair...until her butt touched ground on the seat. Happily, her jeans had enough stretch in them not to split.
Georgia snuck a peek at Harlan. Was he going to make a snarky comment?
Out of the corner of her eye she saw him wave her shoes while she avoided facing him. “I’ll put these in my saddlebag,” he said.
“Yep,” she said, feeling proud of herself for making it up there, even if he did have to grab her ass.
The saddle smelled fresh, crisp, and woodsy, all at the same time. Memories of her childhood washed over her.
Finally, she’d get to meet Boone.
“’Git Along, Little Dogies.’” She pointed, leading the fake Calvary in her brain and dying of embarrassment at the same time. “God, you just grabbed my butt.” Georgia laughed, shaking her head at the absurdity of the situation.
4
They rode through the quiet, keeping
the horses at a walk. Jess and Delilah’s hoofs traveled the soft, grassy ground in a muffled rhythm.
Harlan breathed in deeply, relishing the sharp aroma the air takes on before it rains. He wouldn’t have put the reporter on a horse if he didn’t trust Jess as much as he did, but still he observed Georgia’s ability to ride closely.
Careful not to let on, he watched her every move, waiting for her to make a sudden gesture, maybe pull out her phone and start snapping pictures for her Instagram account.
Boone shouldn’t have been so reckless to invite her to the ranch, no matter how much of a big deal she was. He should’ve known from Harlan’s experience that reporters couldn’t be trusted, especially when his career was at stake. He couldn’t bear the thought of his brother’s dreams going up in smoke.
After about twenty minutes they came to a stretch of tall, bright green grass dotted with clusters of yellow wildflowers. The arrowleaf balsamroot would blanket the hills through July.
They had a good rain a couple of weeks ago, and from the looks of the dark clouds rolling in, it was already coming down near town.
Georgia effortlessly maneuvered Jess around a small pine a few yards ahead with just the right touch on the reins. Harlan shifted in the saddle, hearing the comfortable squeak of the worn leather beneath him, observing as she brought Jess to a trot.
“You’re a good rider,” Harlan called out, catching up to her. They were now traversing an open field side by side.
“Thanks,” she said, expertly giving Jess a nudge, and they picked up the pace.
Caught you. Harlan clenched his jaw tighter. “So you lied, then,” he growled. “You’ve ridden before. I knew you were a liar. It’s probably your standard MO.” Nothing would surprise him at this point.
Georgia brought Jess to a stop and swung around to glare at him. “I am not a liar. I never said I don’t know how to ride. You really are a piece of work.” Her lips thinned as she turned to look straight ahead again. “And why I didn’t want to ride today is none of your damn business.”
“Whatever you say. Whatever you say, sweetheart.” The sooner he could get her out of his brother’s life, the better. “Ready to see Boone’s place?” Harlan pointed to the rambling ranch house a few hundred yards away, shadowed by the gathering black clouds. His childhood home hadn’t been remodeled for as long as he could remember. “It’s right over there.”
Georgia leaned over the horn and squinted. “Just looking at the house doesn’t help me much. I’m late for my appointment with Boone.” She adjusted her seat, probably about to give Jess the signal to hightail it over there.
“About that.” Harlan rubbed his chin.
“What?” She snapped her head around to nail him with a look while giving an irritable tug on the reins. “What exactly?”
Oh, she was going to love this. “Boone isn’t there.”
Anger detonated in her eyes. “What the hell?”
“His place is gutted. He’s staying with me while his house is being remodeled.”
Georgia glared, burning a hole through him. “I cannot believe you did this!” She abruptly pulled back on the reins, and Jess’s muzzle tightened, her ears flicking back and forth.
His horse always got a little excited when the weather changed, and Georgia’s temperament wasn’t helping. Jess started pawing at the ground.
“Easy now,” Harlan soothed, keeping his voice calm, hoping to relax the horse. “Jess is picking up on what you’re feeling, and she’s kind of touchy.”
“Touchy?” Georgia turned Jess in a full circle, so she could face him head-on. Jess started prancing. “I’ll show you touchy. You brought me all the way out here on a wild goose chase, didn’t you?”
“Not exactly, and settle down, you’re scaring her.” Georgia’s reaction was worse than he expected. Sure, she’d ridden before, but Harlan didn’t know if she’d be able to control Jess at anything faster than a trot, and he didn’t want to imagine what would happen if Jess tried to buck her off.
“You’re the liar, Harlan Beckett. You!”
“Technically I said I would bring you to Boone’s house, which I clearly just have. I never said Boone would be there.”
“You’re an asshole. You know that?” Georgia jerked Jess’s reins, giving her a firm kick with her heels.
The horse bolted.
Christ. Harlan swung Delilah around, watching Georgia and Jess tear over the terrain as fast as a spooked mountain lion.
“Shit.” Harlan grabbed the reins. “Yaw! Let’s go!”
They raced after her, but lost Georgia around a bend. In another second, she was back in sight. She was still riding so fast he couldn’t catch up to her, but Harlan managed to keep her in sight, still urging Delilah to hurry.
Holding the reins like a natural, her hair flying in the wind, Georgia seemed to have zero hesitation about galloping at full throttle.
Damn right, she’d ridden before. Harlan’s breath caught in his throat. What a sight.
5
Thubalup, thubalup, thubalup, Jess’s powerful hooves pounded the soft ground in a steady beat, syncing with her labored breaths. But Georgia could tell by Jess’s speed and sounds, by the confidence emanating from her, that the horse loved every second of being allowed to flat-out run as fast as she wanted to.
Georgia’s heart raced while she held the reins over the saddle horn with her left hand and clutched the remaining ends with her right, against her thigh. Lifting slightly off the saddle’s smooth, worn seat, she distributed her weight evenly, balancing in the stirrups in the ginormous boots.
She gripped Jess with her thighs, guiding her away from a crop of shiny boulders scattered across the uneven ground up ahead. “That’s it…good girl,” she praised her new friend, feeling like a seventh-grader again. Wild and free.
As pissed off as she was with Harlan, it was incredible to feel so alive. How long had it been since she used every ounce of her physicality and pushed herself to full capacity? As the misty wind slapped her cheeks and trees flipped by her like pages in a book, Harlan’s ranch came into view.
She gradually slowed Jess down to a trot, and in moments they were walking on the trail.
When they arrived at the pasture surrounding the farmhouse, damp, sweet grass and fresh earth smells drifted up, blending with the clean-leather smell of the reins and saddle. “That was fun.” She leaned over Jess’s graceful neck, getting closer to her perked-up ears. “Wasn’t it, girl?”
Boone must’ve heard her coming, because he turned around on the driveway and waved.
Her heart lightened. Thank God he’s here. She was afraid Boone would’ve already come, seen she wasn’t there, and gone.
Georgia recognized him from all the photos plastered in the gossip rags, but damn. The tall, blacked-haired man was even more handsome than she anticipated. Women were going to eat her article up. Georgia waved back and sped up to meet him.
“I’m so sorry I’m late. My flight got delayed, and I was the last car they let through before they closed the road.” Boone opened the gate bordering the pasture and the driveway.
“No problem.” Jess’s hooves clop, clop, clopped against the flagstone.
Boone angled his body around her and craned his neck to look out toward the pasture she just came from. “You didn’t go riding alone, did you? Where’s my brother?”
“Ah…” Georgia checked the field over her shoulder. Should she tell him she left his idiot brother in the dust? “Not sure. I guess he wanted to take his time.”
Okay, it was a half lie. But what good would it do to tell Boone about their fight? Boone probably already knew he was related to an ass.
“Harlan’s probably out picking flowers somewhere.” She snickered at the visual of macho man skipping among daisies.
“Harlan?” Boone narrowed his eyes at her.
She shrugged. “You got me. He was right behind me for most of the way, but I don’t know where he is now.” Harlan. What a tool.
; Georgia quickly dismounted and noticed the mud on Boone’s truck covered the tires and went all the way up to the doors. She made a memo that all the Beckett brothers probably leaned on the far side of crazy.
“Hey, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” Georgia plastered a professional smile on her face. Holding onto Jess’s reins, she extended her hand to Boone.
“Pleasure’s all mine.” Boone smiled. “After all those phone calls and emails, we finally got together.”
Georgia nodded, and that’s when she noticed the level of Boone’s gorgeousness. She roamed her eyes up to his black eyebrows, and down his straight nose to his full lips. Boone’s jaw was perfection, with just the right amount of black stubble. If he’d been her type, she’d have had a hard time peeling her gaze away from him.
“Don’t tell her a goddamn thing!” Harlan’s yell came from behind. They both turned to see Harlan barreling up to the gate. He yanked on the reins, bringing Delilah to a hard stop. Then quickly dug a boot in the stirrup, swung the other leg over the horse, and hopped off.
“Just don’t,” he barked, practically smoking from his ears, storming toward them, leading Delilah to the driveway.
Oh, no. A million thoughts, ranging from slapping him to apologizing, clattered through her brain.
“What’s going on?” Boone stiffened, turning to Harlan and then to Georgia.
“Her.” Harlan pointed. “She’s a bald-faced liar,” he hissed, leveling a nasty glare at her to back it up.
“I-I-I am not!” She felt a scalding blush creep up from her chest to her neck, repeating calmly this time. “I’m not a liar. It’s a big misunderstanding,” she pleaded with Boone. “I just didn’t feel like riding today, and Harlan took it to mean I’ve never ridden, but I didn’t say that.” Her stomach roiled. Several cold raindrops sprinkled on her cheeks.
“Oh, yeah, you should have seen her tearing across the fields at a hundred and eighty. Never ridden, my ass.” He sniffed, eyeing Boone. “Don’t worry, I never gave her your physical address. She only saw your house from the back.”
Sweetest Obsessions - Anthology Page 152
