by J. P. Oliver
“You might be my boss, but you don’t have to be an asshole.”
His lips twisted. “Guess I was born that way.”
As he turned his gaze away, I saw a faint tic in his jaw. It wasn’t the first time I had heard him refer to himself as being an ass. I wondered who had told him that.
Whitt
Right as I was beginning to admit that Mac the horse might be my new—and only—best friend, Bondage and Dominatrix took up residence in my barn.
“You bought them both?” I asked as Reece unloaded them from his trailer two days later.
“Trixie is a bit much for you to handle at this point,” Reece replied as he stroked the big mare’s neck, “But Sherry wanted to sell them both. I figured I could ride Trixie when you hunt.”
Not if. That was an encouraging sign. “You’re planning on babysitting me?”
Reece shrugged, busying himself with showing both horses their new quarters. He’d put them in stalls next to each other, so they could still be buddies. “I go to horse shows with the kids I train. To go with you, I have to hunt too. Mac’s too old, and Satin’s never hunted. I would end up spending time training her rather than helping you.”
Reece stroked both horses on the neck, murmuring to them quietly. Their ears flicked as though they were listening. After tossing them a little hay, he turned back to me.
“Are you ready for your afternoon lesson?”
My muscles screamed no. “Of course.”
“Great. You brush and tack Mac while I get Ricky to take care of the truck and trailer. I’ll check everything when I come back.”
Ripper trotted behind Reece as he walked outside. The dog allowed me to pet him, but Reece was his person, so the terrier stuck to him like glue whenever possible.
“Come on, Mac,” I said as I attached a lead shank to the gelding’s halter and brought him out. Once he was in cross ties, I began knocking the dust off him. There wasn’t much to do. Ricky took care of the heavy grooming; all I had to do was make sure his saddle and girth area were spotless.
My doctor had been right about one thing. Handling the horses was relaxing. They didn’t judge, didn’t expect much more than food, shelter, and a kind word. I stroked Mac’s neck lightly before going into the tack room to find the right saddle. I double-checked everything, determined to get it right.
Reece’s urgency had begun to rub off on me, maybe because I had found some online videos of foxhunting and now had a better understanding of why Reece had been so concerned. Watching it had been intimidating, but there was no way in hell I could back out. I had negotiated with men like Maitland before. Sure, he wasn’t into the whole macho one-upmanship game, but if I backed out, he’d see me as wishy-washy and indecisive.
“Hey, that’s looking pretty good, Whitt.” Reece came up behind me and reached around to check the girth. His arm brushed mine, leaving my skin tingling. “Get your helmet and your chaps. I’ll grab the bridle.”
As I buckled the chaps around my hips, I watched Reece. He had his sunglasses pushed on top of his hair. The slightly wavy brown strands were streaked with gold from spending so much time in the sun. His tanned forearms were lightly sprinkled with golden hair. I swallowed as my mind considered the possibility of that tan skin and golden hair on other parts of his body.
“Everything okay?” Reece was looking at me with some concern.
“Yeah.” I needed to get my mind on what we were doing. Reece had mentioned this morning that we would be working on cantering this afternoon. “I’m good, ready to go.”
A few minutes later, I wasn’t so sure. As we stood in the middle of the ring, Reece went over the cues I would need to give Mac to move him from a trot into a canter.
“Now the horse’s movement is a little different than what you’re used to. It’s more of a rolling gate. Like this.”
My jaw nearly dropped as he imitated with his hips the movement I would need to do. It looked exactly like he was…
“It’s pretty similar to how you move while having sex.”
“Yes.” My eyes might have been glued to his ass. My cock throbbed. So not the time.
“You ready?”
God was I. Closed my eyes for a second. “Yes.”
Reece took a step closer and put his hand on my knee. Not making it better, I wanted to tell him.
“You sure? You look a bit pale.”
“No. I’m good. Really.”
“Okay. Try it.”
It wasn’t smooth or pretty, but I managed to convince Mac we wanted something more than a trot. As much as Reece’s visual example had messed with my brain, it was actually a huge help in being able to keep my butt in the saddle for this drastically different gait.
“Excellent!” Reece cheered as he walked a smaller circle around the middle of the ring. “When you get to the corner, bring him back to a walk.”
We practiced in both directions and reviewed what I had already learned before Reece called a halt. “I need to go to Horse & Hound in Maysburg. Have you been there yet?”
“No. Is it a restaurant?”
Reece laughed, his blue eyes twinkling, and I found myself joining in.
“It’s a tack store. You know, you probably should get fitted for what you’ll need to hunt, also purchase some everyday boots and breeches so you get used to riding in them rather than jeans and chaps all the time. I assume you’ll want to get custom-tailored gear. Why don’t you come with me? I can give you a hand finding what you need until you can have everything personally fitted.”
I hopped from Mac and led him with Reece on his other side. “I’ve got time if we go now. I’ve got a virtual meeting with a stock analyst at five.”
Reece grinned. “No problem. I’ll let you off the hook cooling Mac out this one time. Ricky can do it, and I’ll take care of picking up the feed order for him in exchange. You okay with riding in my truck?”
God he must think I was a real pussy.
“I think I can handle that.”
The first stop was the feed store. That was an eye-opener. I expected Reece to simply supervise loading the feedbags. Instead, he was in the bed of the truck bending, twisting, and stacking. Through the thin material of his shirt, the bunching muscles of his back were clearly visible. I had to look away.
“You new at Reece’s barn?”
It took me an instant to realize the grizzled feed store employee was speaking to me.
“Actually, Reece is new at my barn. I’ve hired him to teach me how to ride.”
“He can do that,” the old guy said, leaning on his hand truck while Reece finished stacking the bags.
“Put it on Mr. Dailey’s tab, Ben. Tell your wife I hope she feels better,” Reece told him and lithely swung over the side of the pickup to land on his feet a couple steps from me. There was laughter in his expression as he asked, “You ready?”
Lord was I.
“What’s wrong with Ben’s wife?” I asked as Reece turned the ignition.
“Asthma. They probably need to move to a warmer, drier climate, but I doubt that’s in the cards.”
I fell silent as Reece negotiated the few blocks from the feed store to Maysburg’s main street. Filled with upscale shops and boutiques, the town had embraced its identity as an equestrian destination. Reece found a vacant spot a couple doors from Horse & Hound.
I was almost ashamed to admit that I had spent little time in the actual town nearest where I lived. Business took me all over the world on a regular basis. The deal with Maitland was the first I had latched onto that was right in my backyard. I kind of liked it, as I liked hopping out of Reece’s pickup truck as though it was something I did every day.
He opened the door to the business for me. “You’re mighty happy,” he commented as I walked past him.
“Maybe it’s the feeling that I’m making some progress.”
The next quarter hour was a lesson in culture shock. When I mentioned I thought the breeches might be a little snug, the sales girl giggl
ed. Reece smirked.
“Trust me, dude, they are just right.” Our gazes met for a second. Reece looked away and cleared his throat. “While you have them on, you should try on some boots. I’d suggest two pairs of field boots for now—one brown and one black.”
There was no doubt Reece knew what he was doing. I watched the expressions on his face as he picked out the finest of what was in the store and had them do measurements as well, so they could order custom boots, breeches, and jackets.
While he was looking at flasks and hunt whips, I motioned to the woman who’d waited on us. “Do you have Mr. Wilder’s measurements on file?”
“Yes, sir. We fitted him last month, but he canceled the order after Mac colicked and he had to get the vet out.”
“Put his order with mine. If there’s anything else you think he would like, add that in.”
The woman beamed. “Yes sir.”
“I need this in two weeks.”
Her expression fell. “Mr. Dailey…”
“Whatever it will cost, I’ll pay it.”
“Yes, sir.”
Reece added the hunt accouterments to my towering stack of purchases. In his other hand, he held a pair of tan leather gloves.
“Is that all you’re getting?” At his nod, I motioned to my stack. “Toss it on there. Call it payment for your expert advice.”
Reece grinned. “Thanks.”
Ripper trotted behind us as we left toting several bags and boxes between us. Damn it felt good to do something so out of the ordinary.
“Toss everything in the backseat. You don’t mind if Ripper rides up front with us, do you?”
The little dog’s dark gaze darted back and forth between the two of us.
“Not at all.”
At the moment, I was in a better mood than I could remember any time in recent history.
6
Reece
Nothing was going right. Whitt had to cancel our morning lesson at the last minute. Something about a meeting in Alexandria, but he hoped to be back for our afternoon session. In the meantime, I was working with Satin in the ring.
I had added more obstacles, and she had taken everything like a pro until I added a third jump to a series of two along the long side of the ring. No matter what I tweaked, the third obstacle was throwing her for a loop. Ricky had even come out to help adjust the space between jumps. It wasn’t working. What had started as her front or hind hooves ticking the top bar progressed to knockdowns, and now outright refusals.
When the next attempt triggered a refusal that nearly dumped me ass over teakettle, I hopped off her back and walked her around the ring to give us both a chance to relax.
“You quitting?” Ricky called.
“We’re done with the combination for today. Thanks, Ricky. I’m letting us both decompress, then I’ll take her over something I know she can do well.”
He saluted and jogged back to the barn. It was nearly time for Whitt’s afternoon session. Man, I was so not in the mood today. The clock was ticking louder and louder. On the one hand, I still had work to do with Satin if she was going to be ready for the open jumper stakes classes at Maysburg. With about thirty thousand dollars in prize money on the line, I needed both of us at the top of our game.
Then there was Whitt. I couldn’t ignore what he needed. The man was paying me a boatload of cash to turn him into a rider.
I heard his car navigate the drive. So, he had made it back after all. I rolled my neck to relieve some of the tension before remounting. After an easy jog around the ring, I urged Satin into a collected canter and turned her toward a spread made with brush and timber. She sailed over it, her equilibrium restored.
“Good girl,” I praised, patting her neck before bringing her back to a walk.
Whitt stood near the gate, still dressed in a navy pinstripe suit, reminding me of the day he’d hired me. For some reason, it pissed me off. He seemed so relaxed and was actually smiling.
“She’s amazing, Reece,” he said as we approached.
I managed a tight smile. “Thanks. If you’re planning on riding, you might want to change.” I walked past him, already feeling like a dick. My conscience was trying to insist this wasn’t his fault, except it kind of was. Accepting Maitland’s invitation to hunt had put us on a tightrope with little leeway. But I had agreed to it.
Whitt disappeared into the tack room. I found Ricky in one of the stalls fixing loose boards. “Mr. Dailey is here for his afternoon lesson. Would you mind taking care of Satin, so I can get started with him?”
“No problem, Reece. I’ll be right out.”
I put Satin in one set of cross ties before heading to the tack room. I walked in as Whitt was pulling on a polo shirt and got a quick glimpse of his leanly-muscled torso. I looked away, trying to ignore the way my heart pounded.
“I’ll get Mac. Grab your tack as you come out. We have a lot to get done since you missed this morning.”
I ignored the narrowed glance he directed at me and spun on my heel.
It set the tone for the entire lesson. Whitt was trying. He was making the adjustments I needed him to, but my patience was gone. We had begun doing work through cavaletti, a series of small obstacles, to help Whitt improve his balance.
“I need you to keep your hands and legs quiet. Let Mac do the work. You work on maintaining your balance—eyes up!” I snapped as his gaze dropped and Mac ticked the next rail.
We were an hour into it already. There was no way we could double the time for what he had missed. My temper was frayed and so was his.
“Go ahead and walk him to cool him out,” I ordered, my voice quieter. Without waiting I headed back to the barn. I was standing in the main doorway when Whitt came through the back a few minutes later, leading Mac behind him. After putting the gelding in cross ties, Whitt gave me a hard stare.
“What’s your problem, Reece? The meeting this morning wasn’t something I could avoid. I’m a businessman. I work just like you, but I hauled ass to get back here this afternoon for this lesson.”
“I’m in a pissy mood.”
He arched a brow. “I pay you enough you don’t get to be in a pissy mood.”
He spun on his heel and began automatically removing Mac’s tack.
“Never mind that today. I’ll do it.”
Whitt glared at me, set the saddle on a nearby rack, and brushed past me. A moment later he left the tack room with a suit bag slung over his shoulder. I let my head thump against the wall behind me.
Shortly after Whitt’s car left, I heard another arrival. I groaned until I saw Steffy round the corner.
“Girl, you are definitely a sight for sore eyes today.”
“Judging from the slam of the car door up the hill followed by the slam of the house door, you and your hunky boss are having a problem. Dare I hope it’s personal—which would be a sign you’ve decided to have a life—rather than business?”
I slumped onto an overturned bucket. “I’m a dick.”
Steffy found another bucket, flipped it over and sat next to me. “Talk to me.”
I laid out the problems with Satin, the deadlines I was working under, and what a complete ass I had been to Whitt this afternoon. “So, any wise words to make it better and save my job?”
“You should apologize. Then you should jump his bones.”
“What? Steff, I don’t even think the man is gay.”
She laughed. “Oh my God. Open your eyes. I saw the two of you in town the other day. He can’t take his eyes off you.”
I shook my head. “I think you’re wrong.”
“Apologize. Make the first move. Trust me.”
“What about my horse?”
She shrugged. “Try setting some smaller gymnastic fences. School her over those until she’s hitting the rhythm to give her some confidence. Come on, Reece, you know this shit. You’re letting your nerves clog your brain.”
She slung an arm around my shoulder. “Make it right with Whitt Dailey. You can
do this. Don’t let the deadline spook you so you throw away this opportunity.”
Steffy leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. “Gotta go. Really came over to find out how you managed to get both of Sherry Rowland’s hunt horses.”
I raised my brows. “She said she wasn’t joining the hunt this year. The place looked a little neglected, honestly. Pastures needed mowing and fences needed repair. Besides, it’s Whitt’s money, and he paid top dollar for the two of them.”
“I don’t think she’s had an easy time of it since her husband died. So that was nice of you not to haggle over the price.” Steffy waved and jogged back to her truck.
I sat for a few more minutes before realizing, I did have some serious ground to make up with Whitt. After letting Ricky know I was done for the day, I trudged to the house. I made it a habit to go in the back, taking my boots off in the mudroom. After washing my face and hands, I stalked the hall to Whitt’s study. Sure enough, the door was shut, as it always was when he was inside.
I knocked. Hearing his voice telling me to enter, I took a deep breath and pushed the door inward. He wasn’t at his desk. Instead, he was half sprawled on the couch, a glass of bourbon dangling from his fingers.
“Come to share more of your pissy mood with me?”
I halted several feet away. “I came to apologize.”
Whitt’s silvery gaze darted back to me. He waved to the chair next to the couch and the decanter and glasses on the table.
“Help yourself. It might help your mood. I think it’s helping mine.”
I poured a couple of fingers of the amber liquid and sat with my elbows braced on my knees and the glass dangling loosely between. A sip of the smooth bourbon gave me a chance to collect my thoughts.
“I was an ass to you this afternoon,” I began. “It wasn’t your fault, but I took my frustration out on you.”
Whitt sat forward, bringing our knees bare inches apart. “What’s the problem? Anything I can do to help?”
I ran my fingers through my hair. “I’m struggling with working my horse and working with you. Between you having to cancel this morning and Satin exploding over what I was asking of her, I lost it.”
