Page 85 of Yours To Take
“I’m really thinking I don’t need horseback riding on my show.”
“Wow. You go from wanting to fish on a horse to not wanting to be near them.”
“I’ve never done this. Give me a break.”
Gemma slides her hands around my waist. “I wouldn’t take you somewhere if it was going to be a hazard to your safety. I promise.”
Her eyes sparkle up at me. Damn. It’s so easy to trust her. Dipping my lips down, I kiss her senseless.
“Mm.” Gemma pulls back, swaying farther into me. “There will be more of that if you get on this horse.”
“Alright, cowgirl. Show me how it’s done.”
“Grab here, foot in the stirrup, and then push up and swing your leg over.”
She mimics what I need to do. I do it with far less grace than she does. After landing awkwardly in the saddle, my body stiffens up.
“How about we do a few laps around the barn? Would that make you feel better?”
“God, yes.”
She smiles up at me. “Okay. Grab the reins and hold on to the horn,”—she puts my hands where they need to go—“and just relax.”
“How long have you been doing this?”
Gemma leads, the path around the barn well worn.
“I’ve been riding for as long as I can remember.”
“I honestly don’t know if I’ve ever seen a horse that wasn’t pulling a carriage somewhere.”
“Really?” She looks up at me as we loop around the barn. It smells like horses and hay. It brings a smile to my face, remembering that first day with Gemma. To think we’d be here now.
“Really. When I tell you I’m a city boy, I’m a city boy. Mom likes the finer things in life. If she couldn’t be flashy with her money, we didn’t do it.”
“You try steering now.”
Gemma lets go of the reins and walks beside me. “Like this?” I hold up my hands and she nods.
“This really is your first time out in the country, then?”
“I don’t know if I could have made it any more obvious.”
Buttercup leads me around the ring with little guidance from me. The more we walk, the more comfortable I get.
“I wanted to be an Olympic equestrian when I was little.”
“Why aren’t you?” I flash my eyes down at her before looking back to the ring. Even if I’m doing nothing to guide the horse beneath, I don’t want to lose focus.
“I was never good enough. I was competitive in high school, but I didn’t have the drive that other riders had. All I wanted was to ride Buttercup and not worry about my next jump.”
“Sounds like you had a good plan B.”
“Have you always wanted to write?”
“For as long as I can remember. I used to make up stories and draw pictures to go with them when I was little. I called it Blake’s Adventures.”
“That sounds like the title of a really great documentary.” She halts us. “Do you think you’re ready to hit the trails?”
