Page 28 of Stables Spurs Suits
“No, it’s fine,” he says, stepping back, and the room feels instantly ten degrees cooler. Loki shifts to move deeper into his stall, and I turn and lean against his gate. Not really knowing what to do with my hands, I shove them into my pockets and try to look normal. Whatever that is.
Atlas rests against the opposite stall, one knee up, foot against the gate. Fuck, this guy makes cool look effortless.
“Did you know that when nerves heal, they fire electric pulses, bursts of electricity firing under the skin and vibrating through the bone?”
I shake my head.
“Even healed over, the scars used to react like open wounds, making me wince at even the slightest touch.”
“That sounds horrible.”
“It wasn’t great. But your brain has a funny way of changing its mind about how it interprets those signals, and one day, what used to send an aching sting through my arm suddenly felt like something was crawling under it. I stopped wearing shirts, then pants, and well, you know the rest.”
“Does it still feel like something is crawling up your skin?” I ask, stepping forward.
He shrugs. “Sometimes. I’ve spent years finding clothes that have the least impact.”
“Can I?” I ask, stepping closer and reaching out with one hand. He pushes off the wall with his foot and steps forward to meet me.
I pinch the fabric of his flannel shirt at the waist, the smooth, soft blend less like the one I’m wearing and more like some fine silk. I skim the fabric between my fingers, loving the way it feels sliding back and forth.
“I can’t imagine anything feeling nicer than this,” I say, looking up to meet his soft stare.
“On a night like this, there is one thing better,” he says, and I smirk.
“Okay. You’ve convinced me. I’ll give the nudist thing a try.”
He smiles widely and grabs my wrist.
“Great, we can make a night of it. I’ll set up a fire at the trailer so we won’t get cold,” he says as I stumble along behind him out of the stables.
“You want me to be naked at your place?”
“It’s the only place you can do it on the ranch,” he says, and then he stops dragging me and turns to me deadpan. “This is just about you experiencing what it’s like to be totally free out here in the wide-open air. It’s not sexual. I don’t… I wouldn’t.”
My cheeks burn, and I’m thankful we’re out of the decently lit stables.
“Okay,” I say, my voice coming out little more than a whisper. “Lead the way.”
My stomach is swirling the whole way to his small corner of the ranch. His trailer is surrounded by trees, shielding him from the eyes of any guests and making it feel more isolated than it actually is. As we step through the tree line and the rest of the ranch disappears, a chill sweeps over me. What am I doing?
“Wait here,” Atlas says, and he makes his way over to the small pale-blue trailer. The moment the silver door closes behind him, a pit forms in my stomach, and every sound aroundme seems amplified. A rustle of leaves comes from my left, and I spin that way, trying to squint through the low light of the moon to see what’s there. An owl hoots to my right, jolting me that way, my breath coming faster as the desire to run grows stronger and stronger.
Then Atlas opens the trailer door, a beam of warm light appearing with him, and relief washes over me.
“You okay?” he asks, a deep-set frown on his face.
“Fine,” I lie, rubbing the back of my neck, the muscles still tense. “Just, you know… enjoying the super-secluded, not at all axe-murderous place that you live.”
He laughs with his whole chest, a wide smile taking over his face, and it somehow calms me a little.
“Relax. If I wanted to kill you, I could just swing a scythe at your head,” he replies and then unrolls a large blanket and lays it down on the grass. “I’ll get a fire started; it might get a bit chilly tonight.”
He lifts a small, round metal plate that had concealed the fire pit hidden in the ground, and I stroll around the small grass area while he gets it going. His trailer isn’t like the cabins. It’s one of those old-style, rounded ones—vintage, I guess you’d call it—with white trim around the curved windows and door. He has a small table and single hammock chair set up beside the door, where I can totally imagine him sipping his morning coffee, totally naked.
I turn, and now I don’t have to imagine anything, because there he is standing bare-ass naked in front of a large fire, his perfectly muscled back facing me. How the hell did he get that going so quickly?
“I umm…” I begin, not really sure what I should do or where I should look.
