Page 14 of Head Over Spurs

“They’re beautiful, I’m really excited to get to work with all of them. Anything I should know right out the gate?”

He nodded, dragging his hand up the back of his neck. “Some came to us feral; Hayes Ranch has a way of collecting those that need it. And not just the animals.” She watched appreciation flash across his face before he continued. “So, there are a few horses that might need help warming up to you. Whatdo you say, feel like a little bribery? Work on building a relationship together?”

“With them,” she corrected. “Building a relationship with them.”

“Of course,” he chuckled, pushing off the fence and starting towards the stables. “What did you think I meant?”

She closed the distance between them quickly, rolling her eyes at the question. In truth, she was so very tense today, that she was certain to snap at any second. His closeness was making it impossible to think clearly.

“Come on, there’s some watermelon inside we can give them. They’ll love you in no time.” Riley motioned for her to follow him into the feed room, a row of uncut watermelon lined up on the counter.

They worked quickly slicing up the fresh fruit into wedges. And it was easier to be around him when she had a task to distract herself with, which would be the case the majority of the time. This would be fine, she reasoned.

Then Riley reached around her to grab a feed bucket. And she was suddenly enveloped in his scent. He smelled like a sunny day—hints of fresh grass, something woodsy, and a touch of sweetness. Jules inhaled, a memory of the same scent crashing back as it filled her lungs while she gasped against his neck, trying to quiet her moans of pleasure.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Hmm? Sure.” She blinked the images away and reached for the bucket filled with watermelon. Without waiting for him to question her spacey attitude, she strolled out of the feed room.

When her boots hit the center aisle, she allowed herself a minute to truly take in the details around her. This barn was nothing like what she expected. There was a herringbone tile floor, large wagon wheel chandelier lights, and modern garage doors in lieu of barn doors. It was truly beautiful.

Steps echoed around her, and she turned to find Riley reaching the gate. “Did Brett do all of this?” she asked. “Or is this Laurel’s doing?”

“No, this is all Brett,” he laughed. “He probably spent a little too much time out east while in the Navy, some of the style rubbed off on his western.”

“Have you ever called anywhere other than Sterling Ridge home?” She knew he had traveled significantly on the professional circuit. But she wanted to know more about him, it turned out.

“Just temporary stops. Spent some time in your neck of the woods for competitions, actually. It’s where the season kicked off.”

“Mm, I know. I go to the National Western Stock Show every year, I shoot for it.”

The realization hit them at the same time. Stopping a few paces into the pasture, she turned to Riley with wide eyes. “I must have been there when you competed.”

“Ever pay attention to saddle bronc competitors?”

“If you were there, I have a feeling I watched you closely,” she purred. It seemed that no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t avoid flirting with this man.

He took a step closer, a hungry look in his eyes. “I know the feeling.”

A muzzle in her hair broke the spell between them, causing a surprised laugh to escape her. Turning, she came face to face with a handsome sorrel, his flaxen mane dancing as he gave his head a shake.

“Hi, sweetheart. Who are you?”

“Atlas,” Riley said warmly. “Of course he was the one that came to steal your attention.”

She reached into the bucket and fed the horse a watermelon wedge, laughing again as he ate it greedily. She wiped at thesplash of rogue watermelon juice he flung on her cheek and pulled out another wedge. “He does seem like quite the social fella. Is he always like this?”

“I could feed you a line about how he is a shameless flirt when it comes to you, same as his rider. But that wouldn’t be very professional of me.”

“Wait, same as his rider… he’snot,” she gaped.

“Yes, ma’am, Atlas is mine.”

Three more horses were approaching them now, but even as she fed each one, her focus stayed on Riley who hovered out the corner of her eye. He seemed to stay close enough to be within arm’s reach without crowding her. Just close enough that she could feel his presence. It was sweet the way his attention never left her, and the feeling struck her square in the chest.

“Tell me about these three?” She looked over her shoulder to him.

“Those two are Maverick and Dune,” he pointed to the towering horses with alpha energy wafting off them. They were glorious. “Maverick is Brett’s. Dune used to be as well, but apparently this guy swapped alliances the second Laurel showed up on the scene. He’s one of our feral horses.”

---