Page 78 of Everything We Give

“Why’d you stop?”

“I stopped asking.” I tug up a clump of weeds and chuck them. Beyond us, the horses nicker. A foal ambles to its mother. “After Sarah was imprisoned, I spent more time at Marshall’s. I could tend to his horses and forget how shitty life was back home. I guess, in a weird way, I feel closer to my mother around horses.”

Aimee studies me with cool fascination. I pull my legs in, resting my elbows on my knees, hands hanging loose between. She smiles sweetly.

“What?” I ask, cracking my own smile.

“You’re her Galician knight and her aloitador. In a way, she was wild and you tried to manage that wildness the best you knew how for your age. And when she wasn’t the most willing or cooperative subject, you watched over her. You took care of her. And then she left you and you didn’t know what to do. You probably felt like you didn’t have a purpose. It’s probably how these villagers would feel should they lose these herds.”

“Huh. Interesting. I never thought to look at it that way.” I yank off a blade of grass and chew on the end.

Aimee makes a face. “Eww. Horses walked on that.”

“Yeah, probably.” I toss the mangled blade and grin. “That was deep, Aimee. What should we talk about now? Politics, clean energy, babies?”

Aimee lifts a brow and I sigh.

“I know,” I acknowledge. “I said I wanted to table our discussion, but ... you want another one? For real?”

“I do.”

“This isn’t a residual feeling from seeing the burrito-wrapped bundles at the hospital?”

“Those bundles reminded me that I’ve been feeling this way for months. I wanted to talk about it with you last summer when you got back from Spain, but ...” Her voice tapers off. She picks off burrs clinging to her shoelaces.

“But what?” I give her calf a squeeze.

“Things happened.”

My chest feels heavy. “You mean James happened.”

Aimee nods.

I breathe deeply. “Tell you what. How about we get back to focusing on us rather than what’s happening around us?”

We watch each other for a long moment. My heart beats for her and I reach for her hand. Our fingers entwine. She watches my thumb caress hers.

“I’d like that, very much,” she agrees.

I give her arm a gentle tug. “Come here.”

Aimee scoots down the blanket. I lie back, pulling her down with me so that her chest is on mine. Her hair spills over her shoulders, framing her face. I trace her cheekbone. “I just remembered something.”

“What?” She dips her head and kisses my jaw.

“We forgot to Skype Caty last night.”

Aimee trails her lips along my jawline. I feel the press of her breasts with each breath, the gentle rush of air from her parted lips through my whiskers. It makes my blood thrum.

She kisses my chin, then lets her lips hover above mine. “We were a little busy last night.”

“Yeah, we were.” I laugh the words. My body heats at the memory.

“We’ll call her when we get back to the inn.”

“Good idea. Now kiss me,” I demand, memories of last night lingering in my brain.

Her mouth crushes mine and my arms loop around her back. We spend the afternoon like this, kissing and embracing, relaxed and sun warmed. The horses graze nearby, their nickers and whinnies background music. It’s late, the sun sinking lower on the horizon, when the herd starts to wander toward the next hillside. Deciding to trail the horses for a bit, I slip my arm from Aimee and grab my camera. I’ve wandered off a bit when I turn back to her. I point at my watch and flash five fingers two times, asking her to give me ten minutes.

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