Page 28 of Dirty Player
“That’s Winne,” I said as she stepped up to the first mare. If I was honest, she was my favorite horse. I’d bought her when she was two and she had been mishandled and skittish. It took forever to tame her and get her to trust anyone, but the results had been worth the work.
Now she was kind and gentle, all brown and black. Shannon stepped closer to the door and Winne’s large eyes turned excited as she blinked at the newcomer.
She neigh, pulling her lips back, and Shannon yanked her hand back in surprise.
“It’s okay,” I murmured, speaking quietly to calm Winne. I reached down and took Shannon’s hand in mine and I held both of our palms out toward the horse. “She’ll sense if you’re nervous. Let her sniff you and she’ll let you pet her soon.”
“Okay.” Her voice trembled much like her fingers and I tightened my grip on her hand.
It only took a few seconds for Winne to register my scent and Shannon’s before she dipped her head, took a step closer, and turned her neck.
“There you go,” I whispered to the horse as much as to Shannon. “That’s a good girl.”
I laid my hand on Winne’s neck and held it there while Shannon gently began brushing her hand up and down the horse.
We were silent, the only sound coming from the other horses stepping on their hay, eager for their turn and snacks.
“Keep petting her. I’ll get her treats.”
I needed space. My heart was pumping faster than it should have been. Seeing Shannon in the barn, touching my horses—lovingly—an ache grew deep inside my gut.
Only an hour into a month-long agreement and I was already debating if I should end this as fast as I could. I should have known this would be her reaction. So far, she’d busted through every preconceived notion I had of her. What the fuck did I think was going to happen when I brought her in here?
I grabbed a couple handfuls of apples from the horses’ snack bin and walked back to Winne, holding an apple out to Shannon.
We’d feed them. Then we’d fuck.
And after eating dinner, fuck again.
“She’s so beautiful,” Shannon said when Winne reared back and gobbled the apple out of her hand. Shannon squealed as the horse’s lips grazed her palm.
“Don’t close your fingers—keep them straight out or she’ll eat those too.”
Shannon flashed me wide, disbelieving eyes, and I shrugged, juggling the remaining apples in my hands.
“Did you name her?”
“I did.”
Her lips pressed together. “It’s a pretty sweet name for a horse.”
“She was a rescue.” Why was I bothering to explain? After tonight there was no way in hell I was ever bringing her back to this place. She was already looking too comfortable and we hadn’t yet gone inside.
From now on, I was fucking her at the hotel.
“She hadn’t been taken care of and was hard to train. But since then, she’s been the gentlest horse I’ve ever had. She needed a name to match.”
I looked away when Shannon’s eyes went soft. She was thinking things about me that she shouldn’t.
I broke the moment and walked to Ralph’s stall. He was old, probably wouldn’t live much longer, but I’d had him since I was in high school. He was the first horse that was all mine and the reason I’d bought the damn land to begin with. After living without horses and space for so long, I couldn’t stop missing him.
There was something that was so freeing about getting on a horse at the end of a shitacular day, when every muscle ached to the bone and I’d royally fucked up at a game. Ralph had always understood what I needed.
Now, he was too old to ride too often, but I still made sure he got the exercise he needed. He’d lost the energy and pep he used to have and when I walked up to him, knowing Shannon was following me, he brushed his head against mine.
“Settle down, boy,” I said and handed him an apple. He took it slowly, knowing I’d give him an extra one. He always got two—because he was old and my first and I babied the shit out of him.
God, I had never realized how big of a pussy I became around my horses until I was taking care of them under Shannon’s soft and watchful gaze.
