by Kait Nolan
The ball is in your court, cowboy.
Sebastian cooled the mare for a few more minutes, before gathering up the lunge line and leading her over to a gate. As he unclipped the lead from her bridle, Sassy playfully bumped her head against his shoulder in a move that couldn’t be interpreted as anything but flirtatious. It made him laugh. The sound of it, unfettered and rich, rolled over Laurel like warm molasses. He had a really great laugh.
“Go play, pretty girl. You’ve earned it.” With a light slap on her rump, Sebastian sent Sassy into the pasture.
Shutting the gate after her, he crossed the paddock to Laurel, ducking through the rails right beside her. From where she still stood on the bottom, they were eye-to-eye. She thought maybe he’d step in or bodily help her down—something to acknowledge this snapping tension between them. Instead he studied her face for a long moment, his face inscrutable, before jerking his head toward the barn. “C’mon.”
Okay, not going to be making out right this second. He probably has actual work to do after being tied up with wedding stuff all yesterday.
He was already half-a-dozen strides ahead of her before she leapt down to follow. Inside the barn, he led her down the aisle to a stall on the end.
“Hey gorgeous.”
As Laurel caught up, a chestnut head poked over the stall door, stretching out for pets. Her ears tipped toward Sebastian, and he continued to croon nonsense compliments and scratch under the animal’s chin.
“Are they all in love with you?”
Sebastian chuckled. “Most of the horses we have here are rescues. A lot of them came from some pretty shitty conditions, and they’re grateful to be here. I’m the one who does most of the care-taking, so yeah, several of them are fond of me.” He kissed the chestnut’s nose.
“I’d be careful if I were you. Sassy might get jealous.”
“This little beauty is Gingersnap. Ginger for short. I got her back in the spring after a judge had her and another mare removed from their former owner for profound neglect. She was in pretty rough shape, and I wasn’t sure if she’d make it. But she decided she wasn’t ready to give up yet, and she’s turned into a loving little thing.”
Laurel eased up, holding out her hand for Ginger to sniff. “Poor baby. I’m glad she has you now. How did you get into all this? The rescuing?”
“Fell into it, actually. The first couple of rescues weren’t me. There was a need and your brother had barn space. He mostly pastured them. When the next three came, he realized he’d need some help. Porter knew I was at loose ends and that I’d grown up with horses, so he did a little employment matchmaking. I don’t think either Logan or I expected it to turn into this, but there’s a need and, once word got out, we became the go-to place. Your brother never meant for things to get this big, but he’s too damned nice a guy to turn anybody away.”
Something in his expression made Laurel wonder if he was still talking about the horses or if he was thinking of himself.
“I’ve rehabbed and sold a couple of horses along the way, but it’s a long way from being profitable. I started the riding school as a means of off-setting the cost.”
With sixteen horses, she could imagine that wasn’t an insignificant amount. Her brother wouldn’t be in this for the profit, and she sensed Sebastian wasn’t either.
So maybe profit isn’t the answer.
She filed that away to think about later.
“Which part do you like best?”
“Definitely working with the rescues. Earning their trust again. And some of them, like Ginger here, that took a while. There are a lot of behavioral issues I’m working to correct. But Ginger…she’s an absolute sucker for being groomed. Probably because she wasn’t for so long. So my prescription for that lingering storm cloud over your head is to give her a good rubdown and grooming. It’ll make you both happy.”
So she wasn’t going to be getting her hands on him again just now. That was fine. Reaching out, Laurel stroked a hand down Ginger’s neck, bringing it up again to scratch under her chin the way Sebastian had. “How ’bout it, Ginger? You want a little beauty treatment?”
She took the horse’s lean into her touch as a yes.
“I’ll go grab the grooming bucket, while you two get to know each other.”
Laurel and Ginger both watched as he strode down the aisle to the tack room.
“It’s a nice view, isn’t it?” Laurel murmured.
Ginger gave a wiffle of agreement.
Sebastian came back a minute later with the grooming tools. Setting the bucket aside, he opened the stall door and led Ginger out by the halter, walking her to an open sort of bay area, with two dangling lead ropes. He clipped one on either side of her halter. “You said it’s been a while. You remember how to do this?”
Laurel fished the curry comb out of the grooming bucket and went to work, eliciting a long, satisfied groan from the mare. “Just like riding a bike.”
“I’ll leave you to it. Got my first lesson in five minutes.” And then he was gone.
“Well, okay then.” Laurel leaned to look Ginger in the eye. “A man of few words, isn’t he?”
The monotony of grooming was soothing. As she worked Ginger over with long, slow strokes, the tension that had lodged in her shoulders during breakfast began to unravel.
She didn’t need her pseudo-psychologist brother to tell her that all this anxiety was tied to their father and his expectations. Once upon a time she’d shared those expectations, had the same goals. Or maybe she’d just wanted what they represented. His acceptance and approval. It seemed she’d been chasing that her whole life.
Would she have made a different choice if she’d known the cost? She had no idea. All she knew at this moment was that she desperately needed to decompress from the semester—and really the last several years. Maybe if she could manage that over the next ten days, she’d be able to think clearly and make a decision about what to do.
By the time she began easing a comb through Ginger’s mane, the mare’s coat gleamed and Laurel felt almost relaxed again.
“She looks good.”
Laurel yelped at the sound of Sebastian’s voice from behind. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, are you trying to give me a heart attack?”
Ginger shifted, grumbling her displeasure at the interruption.
Sebastian’s mouth quirked and he reached past her to stroke a hand down the horse’s flank to soothe, which put him right up in Laurel’s personal space. He smelled delicious. Like sweet hay and horse and leather. His sleeves were rolled up now, revealing those muscled forearms, lightly dusted with dark hair. She remembered the feel of those arms beneath her hands as he’d kissed her and looked up to find him staring at her lips.
Finally.
Tension crackling along her skin, Laurel stepped into him, lifting a hand to his chest and tipping her head up.
On a swallow, Sebastian stepped back, out of reach. The sudden space was like being doused in ice water.
For a moment, Laurel considered giving in to the burn of embarrassment and pretending it hadn’t happened. But she was here for the next week and a half, and that meant they were going to run into each other. She knew what she’d hoped for when she’d asked Logan if she could stay. If Sebastian wasn’t on the same page, she’d rather know now and save herself further mortification from chasing someone who didn’t want to be chased.
Lowering her hand slowly, as if he hadn’t just embarrassed the hell out of her, she met his gaze. “Have I misread the situation here? I thought, after the other night, that we had a mutual attraction going on. Is that not the case?”
That was totally the case. Laurel wasn’t blind. He couldn’t have kissed her like that if he wasn’t attracted. But she’d give him a chance to explain.
Sebastian scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “The other night shouldn’t have happened.”
As she was trying to decide whether to be insulted by that, another thought wormed its way into her brain. “Are y
ou with someone else?”
“No.” Before the relief could even hit, he continued, “But your brother is my friend and my boss.”
What the hell did this have to do with Logan? Shifting instinctually into interrogation mode she arched a brow. “Did Logan warn you off me, or is this your own sense of honor getting in the way? Because my brother is many things, but the over-protective Neanderthal is not one of them. He knows I’m a grown woman and can make my own decisions about who I do or do not get involved with.”
His head kicked back in surprise. “Well, you’re direct, aren’t you?”
“I think our kiss the other night proved that in spades. I find life is simpler when you can cut to the heart of the matter.” She ignored the little voice in her head that said she was a bit of a hypocrite since she was doing everything but that with her family. They were complicated. This attraction was simple. Or should be.
Sebastian sucked in a slow breath, looking around the barn, as if that was going to provide some kind of inspiration for what the hell to say. “No, he didn’t warn me off. But he asked me to keep an eye on you. He’s trusting me with you.”
Oh for the love of…
Laurel dragged in her own measured breath, trying to get a handle on the burst of raw temper. She was well-accustomed to the Logan’s-little-sister box. For so long it had meant coming second to her brother in her own family. But to get the same damned thing from Sebastian felt like a betrayal of whatever tenuous connection they’d built. And for what? Because he was afraid?
Screw this.
“You know, you’re over here spouting Guy Code that thou shalt not get involved with thy friend’s little sister, but the fact is, whatever does or doesn’t happen between us has nothing to do with my brother. You’re not protecting me by holding back, and you’re not protecting your friendship with Logan, because that’s not who he is. That means you’re protecting yourself. And that’s fine. It’s certainly your right. I won’t force the issue.” Snatching up the bucket, she held it to her chest and looked him dead in the eye. “But maybe you should give some thought to exactly what it is you’re protecting yourself from, Sebastian. You don’t have to be honest with me, but I suggest you be honest with yourself.”
With that closing argument delivered, she walked away.
Chapter 5
“Shit.” Sebastian stared after Laurel, one hand still on Ginger’s flank, reeling as if she’d sucker punched him.
He’d thought he could just ignore the attraction, avoid acting on it, and things would be fine. He hadn’t counted on her calling him out. And he sure as hell hadn’t expected her to put it all back on him. That was…uncomfortable. It made him realize his avoidance tactic depended upon her feeling like all this was her fault. That made him a coward and an asshole. He’d spent too much of his life trying not to be those things to let this stand. Turning Ginger out to pasture, he sucked it up and headed to the big house to find her and apologize.
The front door was, as usual, unlocked. He slipped inside, striding toward the kitchen in the back, where he heard the sound of water and low strains of music.
Her back was to him, her hands thrust into the sink of soapy water. All that rich, brown hair was bundled into a messy knot, exposing the length of her slender neck. For a moment he could only stare, imagining what it would be like to slip his arms around her and press a kiss to her nape, feel the length of her body pulled flush against him. The image stirred him more than he wanted.
Adjusting his jeans, he stepped into the room. “Laurel.”
On a little shriek, she half turned and a plate slipped out of her soapy hand. As it shattered against the wood floor, she hopped back on bare feet, trying to get away from the shrapnel. “Ow!”
Sebastian leapt across the room to scoop her out of harm’s way. He set her on a stretch of counter. Her hands, still soapy, clutched at his shoulders, and his fingers curled tighter around her hips. He wanted to step into the V of her thighs and take that smart mouth. To lose himself in the taste and feel of her. And from the way her pupils dilated and her cheeks flushed, she’d be on board. She’d been clear enough, hadn’t she? This was why he’d avoided touching her again. Because once he started, he didn’t want to stop.
But he didn’t have any business pursuing those things with her.
Forcing himself to release her, he made his voice light. “You okay?”
“Christ Almighty, do you always walk like a damned cat?”
His lips curved at her breathless indignation. “You’re a jumpy thing, aren’t you? I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Her brows drew down into an adorable scowl that did nothing to dim the frustrated lust simmering in his blood. “I’m going to put a bell on you.”
“There are probably some sleigh bells around here somewhere. Let’s see about this foot.”
“It’s fine. I didn’t step on anything. I just got caught in the crossfire.”
Examining the cut himself, he decided she was right. He handed her a paper towel to press to the wound. “Here. Put some pressure on it, and I’ll clean this up.”
Sebastian felt her eyes on him as he found the broom and dustpan and swept up the broken bits of pottery. She knew he wanted her and clearly didn’t understand why he was fighting it. With the low hum of arousal in his blood, he was trying to remember why himself. She’d said her piece back in the barn and now it was his turn to say…something.
Dumping the last of the shards into the trash, he pulled out the first aid kit to tend her cuts. She jolted a little as he took one delicate foot into his hands. His gaze flicked up to hers before coming back to his work. “I’m sorry.”
He meant it as a blanket statement, but of course she didn’t let him off that easily.
“For what exactly?”
His hands were a lot more competent at first aid for her injured foot than his brain was at spitting out actual words. “For hurting your feelings.”
“My feelings aren’t hurt.” Despite her cool, matter-of-fact tone, he knew they were, at least a little.
Dousing a cotton ball in alcohol, he gently cleaned the wound. She hissed. He blew on the spot, trying to ease the sting, and Laurel went very still, her whole body tensing. But it wasn’t pain he saw when he glanced up at her face. Awareness sharpened those long-lashed hazel eyes.
The woman valued honesty. He’d give her what he could. “It’s not that I’m not attracted to you.”
“Yeah, I figured that out. So what’s the problem?”
Dabbing a bit of antibiotic cream on the cut, he fixed a bandaid over it. “It’s just…you’ve got a lot on your plate. A lot of decisions facing you. Big, life-changing ones. It’s not the right time to make that harder or muddle it with emotional complications.”
“Nice try, making it all about me. But that’s not why you pulled back.”
No, it wasn’t. He hadn’t expected her to pick up on that. “You sound awfully confident for someone who doesn’t know me.”
“I’d like to.”
Christ, don’t hand me that temptation. I’m only so strong. “Laurel…”
“No really. I don’t know what it is you think I’m looking for here. I do not have visions of forevers and white picket fences. It’ll be years before I can even entertain the idea of that.”
That had his head coming up to study her face. She believed it. Had clearly accepted this as her fate. But he could see the yearning underneath. She might not think she could have those forevers and white picket fences but, deep down, she wanted them.
“Why would it be years?”
“Freshly-graduated attorneys have no time for a life.” The stiffness came back to her shoulders. “In six months, I’ll be lucky to see the outside of my firm.” At the last, her breath shortened. He could all but see the panic stalking her.
Not on my watch.
When he scooped her off the counter, her arms twined around him and she tucked her face against his throat. The show of vulnerability scraped
away another layer of his defenses. Tightening his hold, he carried her into the living room and sank down on the sofa, cuddling her close, ignoring how good she felt tucked up against his body.
“Breathe.”
“I’m sorry. I’m not doing this on purpose.”
“I know.” Sebastian stroked her back and murmured like he would to one of his horses, waiting until the tension bled out. “Why do you want to be an attorney?”
Settling her head against his shoulder, she sighed. “That’s not a simple question.”
“I’ve got time.” Even if he didn’t, he’d have made it for her.
“You know I’m a fair bit younger than Logan. I was the surprise baby. My parents thought they’d gotten what they wanted on the first go—a son who’d carry on the family name and follow in our father’s footsteps. They loved me, but I was often a little of an afterthought. All the focus was on Logan. I adore my brother, but I was jealous, too. I kept wondering what I’d have to do for them to see me.”
“Did you act out? Rebel?”
Laurel snorted. “About as far from that as I could get. Has Logan ever told you about the whole debacle of grad school for him?”
“Just that he studied psychology and decided in the long run that being a therapist wasn’t a good fit for him.”
“He was supposed to go to law school. That was The Plan for as far back as I can remember. Dad is, as you know, a lawyer, and our grandfather—Mom’s dad—was a federal judge. When Logan went into psychology instead, Dad was disappointed. I think he’d always had visions of some kind of father-son firm. I was a senior in high school at the time, and I saw my chance. I was smart and competitive and I actually liked the law, so I decided I’d take a pre-law track and do everything he’d expected Logan to do. I had the grades and the academic chops to pull it off, and I was determined to earn his attention. I know that sounds pitiful.”
If only she knew what he’d done in the name of earning attention. “No. I think it’s natural to want our parents to be proud of us. We’re wired to want that.”
