Perfect Little Plan

by Jennifer Miller

  It’s all over. The laugh I’m trying to hold in bursts from my lips and tears form in my eyes. “Steal your backpack?”

  “Yes,” he replies. I can see a small smile curving his lips as he watches me laugh at him and wipe my eyes. “They are sneaky. I don’t like them.”

  We walk away from the monkey house and start making our way to a different destination when it occurs to me, “Did you ever watch The Wizard of Oz?”

  He starts shaking his head obviously thinking about the flying monkeys in the movie. “I don’t want to talk about it. Too traumatizing.”

  I giggle and he shoulder bumps me. “Stop laughing.”

  “I’m trying. It’s really hard.” I look at him out of the corner of my eye. “What about Curious George?”

  He shudders, “Okay enough. Curious George is horrifying. I don’t want to ever speak of this moment again. Promise me.”

  “I promise I shall never speak of monkeys that throw poop, steal backpacks, fly, talk, and monkeys that hang out with dudes in yellow hats ever again.” He nods his head, happy with my promise.

  My laughter is loud and often during our time together and I don’t think I’ve ever had so much fun at the zoo.

  After a few hours spent staring at animals, we are in the car when Rixton asks, “So where are we headed next?”

  “Are you sure you’re up for more? Not ready to call it a day yet? Especially after your near run-in with monkeys?”

  Rixton gives me a look because already I’ve broken our ‘never speak of this again’ pact. “I’m game for anything you are.”

  “Okay, you might regret you said that.”

  Two hours later, I’m laughing as I look at Rixton’s canvas. The stop after grabbing a quick bite to eat was a painting class. Saying it was a great idea, before we began, Rixton wanted to make a deal. I had to promise we would choose the same picture to paint and at the end of class we would exchange them. He would bring home mine, and I, his. I readily agreed, thinking it a fun idea.

  Our choice was to paint a wine glass and bottle. His painting looks more like an early impressionist work of some sort – or perhaps an impressionist’s weakly talented apprentice. If one squints, you can almost make out a glass and larger blob sort of a thing sitting next to it on what is supposed to be a covered tabletop. If I turn my head sideways a bit and squint with one eye closed, that is.

  I can’t resist teasing him, “Is that a bottle or a penis?”

  “A penis?”

  “Yeah, it looks like a wine glass sitting next to a penis.”

  His mouth opens and closes a few times. He even tilts his head to the side contemplating my comment, and it takes everything I have in me not to laugh. I said it so seriously that he’s really trying to see if it resembles a penis. Hell, I am finding myself falling for him moment by moment.

  He makes me laugh, he’s fun, he’s sweet, he’s so much more than I expected. For a moment I want to smack myself. I’ve been telling myself that I need to stick to my life plan, but in some ways, I was judging Rixton. There is so much more to him than what is on the outside and that is so clear to me after the time I’ve spent with him. I feel ashamed. It’s wrong to judge people on the outside, and that is what I did. It was easy for me, and likely others to look at him and think he’s just cowboy candy, but he’s much more than that. Although, the outside package is mighty fine.

  Deciding to quit teasing him, I finally laugh out loud, making Rixton give me an exasperated look. He looks away from me to hide his smile, but I see it. Truth is, my painting is no better. It looks like an eight year old painted it. Taking my art very seriously and being true to my personality, I followed the teacher’s instruction to the letter. That doesn’t change the fact that no matter how hard I tried, it still looks cartoonish. Not exactly the look I was going for. I wanted it to look like you could reach inside my painting and pour yourself a glass of wine. Oh well. Rixton will be forced to look at mine in the future and at least I will have a great conversation starter and something sure to bring a smile, if not a laugh or two.

  Before I can read into the evil look that suddenly appears on Rixton’s face and in his eyes, I’m shocked when his brush swipes across my nose and I feel the cold pile of paint he’s left there. I blink a few times and stare at him, open mouthed, while he starts laughing. “You did not just do that.”

  “What are you going to do about it, darlin’?”

  My answer is to take my paint brush and flick red paint all over his gorgeous face. Precisely fifteen minutes later, we get our asses kicked out of class and are told we can never return. We should probably be embarrassed, but I’m way too busy giggling as we drive away covered in paint, our masterpieces proudly sitting in the back seat.

  VISIONS OF DEATH BY HORSE trampling after being thrown from a bucking, rearing steed run through my mind as I get ready for another date with Rixton. The thought of seeing him again makes me giddy. Our zoo date was just a few days ago, but I find myself thinking of him and missing him when I’m not with him. I’m choosing not to read into that.

  I’m seriously regretting telling him I would do this whole horseback riding thing. I’d probably agree to anything he asks me to truth be told – which is interesting in itself. I’m doomed. I’ve never been horseback riding in my life. One time my parents asked me if I wanted to take riding lessons. My school friend, Susan, had begun lessons and she loved it and talked about it incessantly. I heard all about her horse, Trigger, and how beautiful he was and how she learned various riding techniques. Susan expressed her plans to being an expert rider, even participating in jumping and barrel events. In fact, she preferred it to the dance classes we had attended together since we were four. Horseback riding, she explained had become her life. Oh, to be nine-years-old again.

  My mom, after listening to me complain about Susan’s new hobby, privately asked me if I wanted to take riding lessons. She told me how it would be great for my posture and was a great sport. When she told me that only those with discipline and hard work ethic could be a good equestrian professional, she nearly had me convinced. She and my father were happy to find the best stable and private instructor, she said. However, a picture of large quarter horse formed in my mind and my answer was a loud resounding, “No way.” And that was that. I’ve never even thought about it again.

  It isn’t that I don’t like horses, I guess. I’m able to appreciate their magnificence and I’ve seen My Friend Flicka. Who hasn’t? I even cried! That has to mean something. But, getting on the back of one, and allowing myself to be at its mercy – um, no.

  Sitting on the couch, waiting for Rixton to pick me up, watching my leg swinging violently, I’m beginning to think a couple cups of coffee may not have been the smartest way to calm my nerves. When my leg is still, I can’t seem to stop bouncing my knee, or tapping my fingers over and over. Yeah… not smart of me. I’m zero for zero here.

  When Rixton finally shows up, he takes one look at me and laughs out loud. “Why Pyper,” his lips are curved in a wicked smirk and his eyes are twinkling with amusement, “you aren’t nervous, are you?”

  Ignoring his question, I plaster myself to his body thinking that maybe he can be persuaded to do something else today instead. I didn’t miss the way his eyes took in my attire. I wore a tight pair of jeans, a low cut tank top, and my hair is in braided pig tails on either side of my neck. I don’t have cowboy boots, so my sneakers will have to do. I may not have ever gone riding before, but I sure as hell know how to dress the part to impress my man. Oh hell. Did I just think my man?

  To distract myself, as well as him, I kiss his neck. “What do you say you and I just stay in today instead?” I fiddle with the buttons on his plaid button down shirt, making it clear what I’m suggesting. I even bite his earlobe for good measure and when I hear him groan, I smile to myself, thinking I’ve totally gotten my way. That is, until he takes my hands off his body, takes a step back and brings my hands to his mouth for a kiss. Looking me in the eyes
, he smiles, “This will be fun. I promise.”

  Tugging my hands out of his with a sigh, and making my best pouty face, which brings a chuckle from him, I grab my jacket. “Fine,” I barely keep myself from stomping my foot, “let’s go.”

  He laughs and I grumble as I follow him out the door. As we ride the elevator down to the parking garage, I quickly say a prayer to God, asking him that today not be the day that he decides to call me home.

  “What are you thinking so hard about?”

  I look at Rixton, “Oh nothing. I’m just praying to God, asking that I not die in a horse stampede.” He laughs, making me frown, which only makes him laugh harder.

  Once we arrive, I find myself standing in the barn, looking at the horse I’ve been assigned for our trail ride. I just know my eyes are as huge as they feel. My horse is named Speedy. Speedy! Seriously? While staring Speedy down, I’m convinced his name is a bad omen, given the fact he’s staring right back and snorting. I tilt my head to the side, narrowing my eyes, trying to show the horse that I won’t tolerate any funny stuff. I’m totally trying to transmit to him via telepathy who’s boss.

  “Should I be jealous of the fact you’re staring at that horse with greater intensity and interest than you stare at me?” I turn my stare to Rixton instead. He holds his hands up, “Never mind. I’m glad you don’t stare at me that way. I take it back.”

  “I’m trying to make sure he knows who’s boss here.”

  I’m pretty sure I hear Rixton choke on a laugh, which makes me cross my arms over my chest, “Red, all you have to do is be confident. You’ll be fine.”

  Yeah, I ignore that. “Have you seen how big their teeth are? I mean, one bite and I could bleed out and be a goner. I just don’t know about this.”

  He puts a calming hand on my back. “If you really don’t want to do this, I won’t force you, but I promise it will be okay. Who knows,” he whispers in my ear, “you might even like it.” When I look at him in disbelief, he chuckles, “I asked them for the sweetest and calmest horse they have, just for you.”

  “They gave me a horse named Speedy, Rixton! They may as well have just told me his name is death.”

  He laughs but tries to stop quickly when he sees I’m not amused, and clears his throat. “It will be great. Really. I’m going to ride right behind you and next to you as I can, and if anything even remotely looks off, I will be right there, okay? But it won’t be,” he quickly reassures when my eyes widen.

  Chad, the horse groomer and man in charge of our ride, opens the stall door. “Let’s get you up in the saddle, missy.”

  I don’t move. Just stand there and stare at him. “Miss?”

  Uncrossing my arms, I sigh and walk into the stall and stand stupidly next to the horse. The groomer puts a small step stool next to the horse and shows me how to get in the saddle, but before he has a chance, Rixton walks into the stall too, gestures for the groomer to get out then turns to me. I think it’s rather bold, considering Rixton has no business taking over, but I like it. It tells me he really is serious about taking care of me. He wordlessly lifts me from the ground, gives me a boost by pushing on my ass, and helps me get in the saddle. Once on top, I start taking deep breaths, trying to keep myself from having a panic attack. I can’t believe I’m doing this.

  Rixton mounts his horse, Silver, like he’s a champion cowboy. Is there such a thing? When we start moving, I unconsciously let out a squeal in surprise, and jerk in my seat. “Now, now, calm down, darlin’,” Rixton says calmly, but with a heavy drawl. I wonder if being around horses is stimulating his roots. It’s sexy and if I wasn’t so freaked out, I’d actually enjoy it. “Speedy can feel all your emotions. If you’re scared, it’s going to make him nervous. Calm down and trust your horse. He’s done this trail a thousand times with a thousand other riders. He can probably walk it on pure instinct alone at this point. Relax, okay?”

  Mouth tight, and muscles tighter, I give him a bob of my head, acknowledging his words. I don’t realize I’m gripping the bridle super close and tight until Rixton comes up next to me and shows me how to loosen it, giving the horse plenty of room to maneuver his head.

  Without much pomp and circumstance, we start off on what will be a two-hour ride. Rixton is right behind me since at the moment, the trail only allows for single file. Knowing he’s there, I start to calm down a little. My back is still ramrod straight, but I lose some of the tension in my neck and shoulders.

  The ride goes by surprisingly fast and I’m starting to feel comfortable, smiling at myself, and seriously considering patting myself on the back over how brave I have been. I can’t believe I was nervous about this. It’s been a piece of cake.

  When the horses get to a part of the ride where they all start to trot, I initially pull the bridle a little tighter and closer to my abdomen in apprehension, but quickly force myself to relax and allow my body to move naturally with the horse’s movement. I bounce up and down, but notice others are as well and decide to enjoy the feeling of the wind in my hair and the warm sun on my face. Who knows, I could actually start to like this. I really am good at handing this beast. I may want to do this again sometime. It’s… nice.

  The horse – or maybe it’s me – is really bouncing now so I tighten my legs around the horse to gain a feeling of control and settle a bit of the increased nervousness that has suddenly returned. I also think it will help me improve my balance. An open field lies ahead. I glance toward Rixton as he moves his horse up next to me and gives me a smile so gorgeous, my breath catches at the sight. He really is something on top of a horse. Strong thigh muscles move under his tight jeans with each movement, and his strong shoulders and back are evident under his shirt. He has his cowboy hat on and he looks so completely in his element, so happy, that the sight is breathtaking. It makes me understand why he misses Texas – being a cowboy to some extent must be in his blood.

  Finding myself enraptured with him yet again, I look away hastily in embarrassment just as he discovers me staring. A sexy smile touches his lips. Looking his direction again, our eyes connect and without any provocation or notice, my horse suddenly takes off in a fast run. My legs stiffen tightly around his midsection and I grab tight while starting to freak out. I give a blood-curdling scream then yell “Whoa, whoa.” I struggle to stay astride, loosening my leg hold, somehow aware that it may only make him run faster, while pulling back on the reins. Oh shit, I really am going to die. I’m totally going to die. I’ll never be able to realize all my dreams and I totally should have bought those amazing boots I saw in the store window the other day and enjoyed them while I could. You really do only live once – I shouldn’t have been so practical. And who cares about the money – I really can’t take it with me.

  I squeeze my eyes closed and wait for the feeling of weightlessness as I’m thrown from the horse, wondering if those cute little hats equestrians wear would protect them in such a fall, when suddenly, the horse slows and comes to a stop. “It’s okay darlin’, I got you. I told you I wouldn’t let anything happen.”

  I slowly open one eye at a time to be sure I’m not merely awakening from a coma that I suffered from getting a head injury, and see Rixton , still sitting on his horse, with a look of concern and compassion. My hero. My breaths are coming in quick, rapid succession, and it takes me a moment to calm down. Focusing on the return of my blood pressure and pulse to within normal limits, I hear Chad apologizing over and over on the other side of me. “So, so sorry. Speedy saw me take off and he was just trying to follow. I’m so sorry about that. Glad you are okay. You are okay, right?”

  “Okay. I’m okay. Yes, okay.”

  “You are doing so great. And you handled that perfectly,” Rixton compliments and as we begin a slow walk again his eyes stroll leisurely down my body resting at my breasts and the juncture of my thighs, before he meets my eyes again. The look in his eyes makes me automatically forget all about the damn horse. Yeah, I did manage that wild stallion…and I’m not sure if I’m think
ing about the horse or Rixton. Regardless, his attention has diverted mine, which was likely his intent. And it is so working. “I gotta say, darlin’, you on a horse…incredibly hot. I’m so turned on right now.”

  I feel my cheeks heat and automatically look around hoping he wasn’t over heard. When I see no one is paying us any attention, I look back at him, “Oh yeah?”

  “Definitely. It’s making me anxious to get off of these damn horses. Maybe I should have taken you up on your offer to just stay home after all.” He thinks for a minute and then shakes his head, “Actually no, I take that back. The picture you make right now is worth it.”

  “Well I confess… I may be having a little bit of fun – that scary moment excluded.”

  “Only a little bit?” His brow furrows, “Let’s bring your horse to a stop.”

  Instantly I tense up, “Why is something wrong?”

  “No, nothing’s wrong.”

  I give Speedy the command and he slows to a stop, prompting those that were behind us to go around us. A couple of people give us funny looks but continue on their way. Completely oblivious to anyone else, Rixton puts his horse right up next to mine so that our legs are touching. He leans toward me, “Come here.” I lean toward him thinking he wants to tell me something until he cups the side of my face, and places his lips on mine. His kiss is sweet, slow and incredibly sexy. His tongue strokes mine with long strokes, making me moan in response. He gently nibbles my bottom lip between his teeth as he pulls away.

  It takes a moment for my head to clear and for me to focus on his smiling face, “What was that for?”

  “Well you said you were only having a little bit of fun, so I figured it was my duty to bump that up a notch for you.”

  “Well, Mr. Andrews, mission accomplished.”

  He gives me a smile that can only be called panty-melting, and if I didn’t already know I was falling for him, in that moment, it’s crystal clear.

  It isn’t long before we’re returning to the stables. As scared as I was for this whole experience, it was really fun. Leading Speedy into his assigned stall, where apparently he’s going to be brushed down, I swing my leg over and get down from the horse, nearly falling flat on my ass.