“Have you ever played?”
“No, I’m not a good skater. I played baseball and soccer when I was a kid. I didn’t do either very well,” I admitted.
“Oh.”
“Can’t you just say you met me after a game in Denver at a bar—we talked and hit it off, andvoila, we’re friends?”
“Nope. I don’t ‘hit it off’ with people. It has to be believable…and likable. Like therapy with horses.” Denny stared into space for a beat. “I think I’ll have to be your client.”
“My client.”
He nodded slowly. “Yeah. Do you have a horse in Elmwood?”
“No, Bess is here for?—”
“Bring her to Elmwood this summer. We’ll say I hired you as a therapist to help with my anxiety.” Denny scratched his nape and wrinkled his nose. “Horses make me nervous, but if it’sjust for show, it’s cool. People like horses and people who help others. They also like businesses that give to the community. Maybe volunteer too, or…I don’t know. I’m spitballing, but I’m on to something. You aren’t likable, but your horse is.”
“Gee, thanks.” I scrubbed my hand over my face and gave him a weak evil eye. “It’s a good idea.”
“Yep. It’ll work…and it’ll give us an excuse to see each other this summer.”
“We could start sooner.”
“I’m not going to be home till the season is over. And I can’t ride a horse and risk injury either, but…we canpracticehere if we happen to be in town at the same time.” Denny blushed and damn, that was adorable.
I nudged his shin playfully. “I like the sound of that. I’ll be in Denver to check in on my dad and Bess. We can hook up whenever we’re both able to.”
“Cool.” He inclined his head. “Can I meet her?”
“Bess?”
“Yeah, I’m just…curious about her. Your face lights up when you talk about your horse. And she’s a famous billboard model too, ya know.”
My smile was a little too big for my face. “Just say the word. I happen to be pretty tight with Bess, and I handle her calendar.”
“Okay. Text me.”
I figured that was my cue to leave. “I should go, but I’m gonna need my jeans.”
Denny set his hand on my thigh, wordlessly anchoring me in place. His palm was big and warm, like a bear paw—the weight and heat of it burrowing under my skin. He squeezed my quad, flexing his fingers one by one as if he were playing the fucking piano as his gaze drifted to my crotch.
I waited for him to make a move.
And waited.
And just when I thought this was as far as he wanted to go, Denny pushed me flat on my back and dove on top of me.
His kiss was greedy and reckless. Our tongues dueled and found rhythm in the suggestive tilt and sway of our hips. Just like that we were off to the races again, shedding clothing as we explored the finer parts of this new arrangement.
To be perfectly honest, I didn’t think either of us knew the rules, but that was okay. This was a fuck-buddy situation. We weren’t going to become real friends. We were shamelessly going to be using each other for our own gain—and for now, that was all the clarity we needed.
7
DENNY
Make a left onto Interstate 70.
I doubled-checked Siri’s route on the console screen, veering right as an incoming call buzzed in.
