Page 87 of Notorious

I hadn’t realized how much I missed being on a horse until Kurt sent me to Hidden Valley. Now, riding one just for fun … it makes my heart happy. The wind whips my face as we gallop down the wet, hard-packed sand where the tide’s just going out. I watch Kurt, and he’s laughing as the freedom of riding gets to him, too.

God, he’s so pretty, with his hair wild in the breeze and his smile shining brighter than the sunshine bathing our faces.

The salty spray, the sound of the waves slapping on the shore. The way his cute ass bounces in those dark wash jeans. The squeak he lets out as his horse goes faster, perhaps, than he wants her to.

I realize with a start that I could fall in love with him.

I ain’t never been in love before. Not even close. There wasn’t any time for it, and I hadn’t found anyone I clicked with.

With Kurt, though, from the moment I met him, we’ve had that spark. He’s precious.

And even though I knew he represented the enemy—politicians are about half a step up from insurance executives in my book—he seemed genuinely into me. And not just because I did porn.

He seemed to like … me.

Not even for sex. I’m used to meeting people and fucking them right away. So when Kurt and I had time to get to know each other, it felt like more.

I shake my head. Maybe I’m just falling for the first person who’s treated me like someone other than a cock to ride.

Maybe this is me getting way ahead of myself.

But all I can think when Kurt turns around, laughing and gesturing me on, is that I’m in deep trouble.

I really like him.

In the evening, we go to dinner in a tiny restaurant in an old home in Santa Ynez, where the downstairs is set up as several small dining rooms with white tablecloths and real candles and efficient waiters in crisp white aprons.

“I don’t see the prices,” I say, looking at descriptions of a bunch of dishes I’ve never heard of before, but Kurt waves a hand.

“Let me treat you. It’s a fixed-price menu. The only thing that costs more is the wine.”

I suspect that it’s incredibly expensive, but I let it go. Little by little, I’m learning to let him spend money when he wants to, because he has it, and it’s not a big deal for him. I’m learning that it doesn’t mean bad things—like I’m not keeping my end of the bargain or that I have to give him sex in return. Our relationship feels … normal. I think Kurt would call this progress.

I mean, I still have a list of things I need to pay him back for. But I decide this fancy dinner doesn’t need to go on the list, because I feel like we’re building a partnership where he gives me what I need, and I give him what he needs.

What he needs—what we both need—is attention and care. And we’ve been giving it to each other in bucketfuls.

I’m not sure how I survived long enough to meet this man.

Come to think of it, I almost didn’t.

CHAPTER 29

Kurt

In the car coming back from our Thanksgiving trip, I think again about the things I realized sitting in Sue Ann’s living room.

Before I met her, I’d been judging Johnny: He was too selfless. A martyr. Giving too much to her, when he should’ve been treating himself better.

But now I’ve seen how much that care means to her, and there’s something about feeling that love—from him to her and back again—that makes me understand.

Johnny’s a caregiver. A provider. He’s done it all his life, despite not having the resources that I do.

I want to figure out a way to give that kind of care to him. Because in his own way, he’s giving me just as much.

I’m falling for him. Maybe that should scare me. But it doesn’t.

As we near Ventura, he brings up the lawsuit, telling me that Danny mentioned some breakthrough on the evidence but won’t give him any details yet.

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