We made small talk while he unsaddled and groomed Ransom, and after he’d put the stallion away, Dustin put a hand on my waist and kissed me lightly.
My heart sank even more, and as he pulled back, I stared at the ground.
“Something wrong?” he asked.
“Kind of.” I paused, lowering my gaze. “Yes, actually.”
“Okay…”
“We need to talk. About…” Damn it, when had I forgotten how to speak? A sick feeling twisted in my gut, anticipating how pissed off he’d be. I couldn’t even keep myself from visibly flinching as I said, “What we did the other night…and…yesterday. It’s…”
His hand rested on my shoulder. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry, I’m not… I’m not ready for anything, and I…” I let my face fall into my hand. “God, Dustin…”
I was certain he’d be furious, but his voice was soft as he said, “Yesterday, you asked if I thought it was a mistake.” He ran his fingers down my cheek. “And I still don’t. But you do?”
“I…I don’t even know. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to, but I’m just not sure if I’m ready to deal with this on top of everything else I’m—”
“Slow down, Amy,” he said, his voice as gentle as his touch. “We don’t have to do any more than you’re ready to deal with.” He paused. “Even if that means we don’t do anything at all.”
I blinked. “You… Really?”
“Of course. We slept together. It doesn’t have to be any more than that, unless we want it to be.”
Closing my eyes, I exhaled, and my shoulders sank.
“You didn’t really…” He hesitated. “You didn’t really think you were obligated to do it again, did you?”
“Well, I… I mean…” I shook my head. “God, I don’t even know. I’m such a fucking mess.” Avoiding his eyes, I said, “I feel like I used you.”
“You enjoyed it, right?” he asked.
I nodded but still didn’t look at him.
“So did I,” he said. “So, no harm, no foul.”
“But…” I raised my gaze and searched his eyes for some sign he was just trying to make me feel better. “Dustin…”
“I’m serious,” he said. “We were two consenting adults, it was fun, and it felt good.” He shrugged with one shoulder. “So, what’s the harm?” Before I could answer, he went on, “And what’s the harm in saying you’re not ready for it? We can back off.” With a quiet, self-deprecating laugh, he added, “And if you really don’t want to because it wasn’t your thing, that’s fine too.”
I couldn’t help smiling. “No, that’s not the problem. Definitely not.”
He laughed again, but he didn’t quite mask his obvious relief.
“You didn’t think I didn’t like it, did you?” I asked.
Color rushed into his cheeks. “Well, I… I mean, it had been a while, and…” He coughed into his fist and looked away.
“Don’t worry, it felt good,” I said. “And not in the same way finally grieving Sam did. It really…” I couldn’t help grinning. “It was amazing, Dustin.”
He dropped his gaze and blushed. “That’s encouraging, I guess.”
“I promise, this has nothing to do with you or anything lacking where you’re concerned.” Sighing, I avoided his eyes. “I’m just too much of a mess to get involved with anyone.”
“Amy.” He touched my chin and lifted it so we were looking each other in the eye. “This doesn’t have to be anything. We both know you’re not going to be here forever, and you have a lot to deal with.”
“I know,” I whispered. “But it’s…” I swallowed hard. “It’s still too much for me to deal with now. Maybe down the line…” I exhaled sharply and shook my head. “I’m just not sure yet.”
“Then take as much time as you need to decide.” He smiled, but he couldn’t hide the pain in those beautiful blue eyes, which did nothing to help my guilty conscience. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Raising my gaze again, I asked, “This isn’t going to make things weird between us?”
“No, it won’t.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “I’m not going to pretend I’m not attracted to you—very attracted to you—but I won’t push you if you’re not comfortable with this.”
“Thank you,” I whispered.
Dustin leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to my cheek.
Then he turned and walked away, and as I watched him go, part of me wanted to scream and throw something at him. How many years had I wished I was married to a man who’d tell me to do something—anything—at my own pace, or who’d back off because I was uncomfortable or indecisive? How many times had I wished men like that even existed?
And now, here he was in all his existent glory, and he was walking away without a fight because I’d asked him to, and I wanted to fucking smack him for making it so goddamned difficult to let him walk away like that.
Dustin stepped out of the barn and disappeared around the corner. Swearing to myself, I slumped against the wall. Absently, I found the outline of my wedding ring beneath my shirt and ran my finger back and forth along its edge as I stared at the empty doorway.
It was hard, letting him go, but he had to know as well as I did that I didn’t have a choice. I wasn’t ready. I needed to sort through everything Sam had left behind.
And whether he knew it or not, Dustin deserved better than a woman who still wore another man’s ring.
As much as we’d both insisted things wouldn’t get weird between us, they did. Immediately. Eye contact didn’t need to be broken because it was never made. When we were anywhere near each other, we changed directions like superstitious people avoiding crossing paths with a black cat. Apparently, Dustin and I were like magnets who could as easily attract as repel each other, and we were very much in repel mode right now.
Until I finally couldn’t take it anymore and stopped him in the parking area.
“We’ve got to talk,” I said, cringing at the white-flag desperation in my voice.
He scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah, we do.”
“Look,” I said. “If you want me to go, if it would be easier to hire someone else to—”
“No, no,” he said quickly. “I want you to stay. It’s just been a little…” He swallowed hard. “Awkward, I guess. Getting used to the way things are. Were. Whatever.”
I nodded. “Yeah, it has. But, what happened… happened. We can’t change it. And we have got to be able to work together.”
“I know.” He slipped his hands into the pockets of his dusty jeans. “This probably won’t help matters, but there’s something I need to know.”
If our all too recent past wasn’t enough of an indication, the way he kept his eyes down and spoke quietly, if quickly, told me this was going to be an awkward question with an equally awkward answer.
I cleared my throat. “Go ahead.”
Still avoiding my eyes, he said, “The other night. And…the next day.” Dustin took a deep breath and finally looked at me. “Was that…” He paused. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, because I really don’t mean it that way, but did the other night happen between you and me, or between you and the nearest willing guy?”
I chewed the inside of my cheek, and this time I was the one to avoid his eyes.
“I’m just—”
“Dustin,” I whispered, “please don’t make me answer that.”
“So it would have—”
“I didn’t say that,” I snapped, and looked him in the eye. “You’re asking me to either tell you I’d have fucked any man who’d been willing, or that there’s something between us. Whichever answer I give you, there’s implications that neither of us are in any place to deal with right now.”
He opened his mouth to speak but hesitated, and then his shoulders sank a little. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right. I’m sorry, I hadn’t thought about it like that.” He took a step back. “I guess I was just thinking about it and I…” Shaking his head,
he swore quietly. “I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to be,” I said, my voice gentler now. “I’m just sorry you’ve been dragged into all the shit I’m dealing with.”
“I wasn’t dragged,” he said, turning to go. “I went into it willingly.”
“Dustin.”
He turned around.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I am. I’m just in a bad place right now. We both know that. What happened the other night? I…I honestly don’t know. All I know is it felt good then, and it made sense then, but I’m nowhere near ready for anything like that.” I paused. “With you or anyone else.”
He held my gaze. Then he gave a slow nod. “Okay. That’s all I wanted to know.” He started to walk away, adding a murmured, “Thanks.”
Heart in my throat, I watched him go. I hadn’t wanted to hurt him, but I wasn’t going to lie to him, and it didn’t take a psychic to know he’d seen right through my vague, elusive answer to the truth that would have hurt just the same if I’d out and said it.
But he hadn’t cussed me out. He hadn’t called me a bitch, a whore, a user. He’d taken it for what it was, and as he walked away, something tightened deep in my chest, like the other night might have been a mistake, but letting him go now was an even bigger one.
I closed my eyes and exhaled hard.
So much for finding my sanity out here.
Chapter Eighteen
Dustin
It didn’t matter that I couldn’t get the things I’d done with Amy out of my mind, or that I couldn’t find my footing now that I’d had her and wouldn’t have her again. Or that we both knew I’d only had her at all because I was the nearest willing, warm body.
Ouch. The hottest sex I’d had in my life, with a woman I’d wanted like no other before her, and any cock that could stay up for a few minutes would have done her just fine. Yeah. Ouch.
I tried not to think about it. Tried and failed, but tried anyway, because personal history—short or otherwise—aside, we still had to work together.
At least an edgy, traumatized horse made for a convenient distraction from the elephant in the living room, and after a week of quickly broken eye contact around the farm, Amy and I picked today to try riding Blue for the first time.
He stood quietly while we groomed him. It took some work to pick out his hooves—not unusual with him, or any mistreated Walker for that matter—but with some patience and gentle persuasion, Amy convinced him to let her pick up each of his feet in turn and clean them out.
When Blue was groomed and ready to be saddled, Amy and I exchanged apprehensive looks. It was always anyone’s guess how the first ride on a horse like this would go. It could be perfectly smooth, it could be a disaster with serious injuries, or it could be somewhere in between.
Amy held out her hand, and Blue nuzzled her palm. “How long did you say it’s been since he’s been ridden?”
I shook my head. “Don’t know. McBride says he had him under saddle a few times over the winter, but…”
“You don’t believe him?”
“Considering the man told me both horses were ready to be ridden?” I scowled. “No, I can’t say I do.”
“Out of curiosity,” she said, “how did you get these two to begin with? I mean, what exactly is your arrangement with this McBride guy?”
“Long story short, a rescue facility down in California got hold of an entire barn full of Walkers. They couldn’t handle all of them, so a bunch of us took as many as we could off their hands. I took three yearlings and a two-year-old who hadn’t had a lot of training, and McBride and another guy took the rest.”
“And he is…?”
“Another trainer,” I said. “We met at an auction a few years ago. Both trying to pick up some horses to keep them from winding up at the slaughterhouse.”
Amy shuddered. “So you guys decided to work together on rescues?”
I nodded. “Eventually the agreement was that McBride would ease them back into being handled. Once they could be ridden, I took them, finished them, sold them, and we split the money.” I sighed, running my fingers through Blue’s scraggly black mane. “I think he was getting tired of putting all the work in for not a lot of money. You know, forgetting this was a rescue and not a goddamned gold mine.”
“Is any honest venture in this business?” she muttered.
“Exactly.” I looked at Blue. “Well, I guess we’ll see if this one’s ready now.”
“We can hope.”
So far, it was promising, and when I went into the tack room to get my saddle, I was cautiously optimistic.
He’d been calm and placid the entire time, and that lasted right up until the creak of saddle leather brought out the fire-breathing dragon. One squeak and the loud, sharp snort echoed down the aisle. I stepped out of the tack room with my saddle on my arm, and his eyes and nostrils were huge.
Amy spoke softly to him as she put the saddle pad on his back. Snorting again, Blue sidestepped to the left, back to the right, back to the left, as much as the cross-ties would allow. She stroked his shoulder, made sure the pad was straight, and then came up to stand beside his head. She held his halter in one hand and petted him with the other, talking to him the whole time.
I lifted the saddle and brought it down carefully on his back. Another snort, but he stood still. Well, until I reached under him to get the cinch, at which point he stomped, very nearly bringing his hoof down on the toe of my boot. As the cinch touched his belly, he jerked his head away from Amy, swung it around and snapped at me. Only the cross-ties kept him from biting my arm.
“Hey,” Amy said, keeping her voice firm enough to get his attention without scaring him. “No.”
He snapped his teeth and pinned his ears, and she gave the lead a sharp jerk. He jumped, staring at her, but didn’t go after either of us again.
“Somebody’s been taking lessons from Chip, I see,” Amy said, petting his nose with the back of her hand.
“You haven’t tried putting a saddle on that one.”
“Worse?”
I threw her a look, and she grimaced.
“Yeah,” I said. “That bad.”
“Well, how about if we don’t add that to our to-do list today?” She looked up at Blue. “I only have room for one grumpy ass in my schedule.”
I chuckled and finished fastening the cinch. “And now, the other fun part.”
“Bit?”
“Yep.”
“Don’t bother with the molasses,” she said. “He’s gotten smart to that.”
“Figures.” I raised an eyebrow at Blue. “You’re too smart for your own good, you know that?” He just looked at me, ears up and big brown eyes pleading innocence. Chuckling again, I petted his face before going into the tack room to get his bridle.
Inside the room, out of Amy’s sight, I paused to collect my thoughts. This was not a good time to be distracted by the woman I couldn’t stop thinking about. Not a good time at all. We had a volatile, scared horse to deal with, and all it took was a moment of not paying attention, and one of us would get hurt.
But my God, Amy…
Focus, King. Focus.
I grabbed the bridle off the rack and went back out into the aisle.
Naturally, when I tried to bit him up, Blue clenched his jaw. I slid my thumb into his mouth and pressed down on his gums, but he just bit down harder.
“Come on, buddy,” I said. “Just open your mouth.”
He kept his teeth tightly together.
“We could always try a bosal,” Amy said.
“Oh, he’ll take it.” I pressed a little harder on his gums. “He’s just stubborn about—”
Right then, Blue opened his mouth and let me put in the bit. In spite of my efforts to avoid it, the bit clicked against one of his teeth, but he still accepted it. He chewed the bit as I put the bridle over his head, and he didn’t protest as I fastened the throatlatch and cavesson straps.
“Okay, well,” Amy said. “If he gives us trou
ble in the future, maybe we should see how he does with a bosal or a hackamore. Maybe he just doesn’t like his mouth messed with.”
“Possible,” I said. “I swear to God, every horse that’s come from that farm is near impossible to bit up, at least in the beginning. Don’t know what those fuckers did to their mouths, but…”
Amy shuddered. “I don’t even want to think about it. Do they usually get over it after you’ve worked with them awhile?”
“Eventually.” I gathered Blue’s reins and unclipped the cross-ties. “But you never know if it’s going to take one lesson or fifty before they finally decide they’re okay with it.”
Once he was bridled and ready to go, we let Blue stand for a moment, just chewing quietly on the bit and wearing the saddle. Now that everything was on, buckled and not hurting him, he quieted down pretty quickly. In fact, within four or five minutes, he’d gone from agitated to almost completely calm.
“Maybe this will be easier than I thought,” I said.
“Maybe,” she said. “But I’m not counting those chickens until they’ve ridden a few laps. He could still dump me on my ass before this is over.”
I clicked my tongue and shook my head. “Such a pessimist.”
“You want to get on instead?”
“Hey, you’re the one who’s been working him.”
“Now who’s not so optimistic?” Amy took the reins from me. “So where do we do this?”
“I’m thinking the round pen,” I said. “Less room for him to go anywhere if he freaks out.”
“Except the round pen has been known to make him freak out,” she said. “I’ve taken him in there a few times, and he’s only just gotten to where he’s sort of okay with it.”
“Still, I’d rather keep him contained, just in case he decides to bolt.”
“Hmm. Probably a good plan.” Amy led him out of the barn.
I walked behind them, and I’d have been lying if I said I wasn’t taking advantage of the chance to look her up and down. Her tucked-in T-shirt and clingy jeans taunted me, holding on to her curves and her skin while I closed my fists at my sides and pretended my fingers didn’t itch just thinking about touching her again. She couldn’t even imagine how much she frustrated me. How much I wanted her, and how having her once—okay, several times—had only made me crave her more.
All the King's Horses Page 18
