Page 20 of Revelry
I held the reins, reaching up and stroking his nose as he dropped his head for me.
“You did so good, boy. Charlie woulda been proud of that.” Chester nuzzled against my palm and nickered softly. “Let’s go and get your shoes changed,” I said, giving him one last pat before leading him into the stables, stopping in my tracks when I spotted Tate.
He leaned casually against the wall yet he looked anything but. Tall, imposing and glowering at me with his arms folded over his wide chest.
Sexy and mad.
But that wasn’t what threw me. He wore a black fitted muscle-tee that clung to his biceps, the material straining against them. With tan leather chaps strapped over black Wranglers that clung to his wide thighs and gave me all sorts of wicked thoughts.
“Hey Tatey,” I said, swallowing to ease my dry throat.
His tone was flat when he asked, “Nice ride?” Clearly it was a trick question.
I fluffed my hair. “Yes, thank you. Been waiting long?”
“You know I have,” he growled, pushing off from the wall.
I put a hand over my mouth coquettishly, knowing it would rile him. “Oopsie, sowwy.”
He sucked on his teeth sharply. “I’m late for the rest of the day now.” His jaw clenched repeatedly, and a tiny sliver of guilt wormed its way through me. “I hate being late.”
“Let me just sort him out and then you can get started.” When I’d finished unsaddling Chester, I turned back to Tate and his eyes snapped up to my face, his cheeks flushed.
Had he been checking out my ass?
“He’s all yours,” I said, Chester nudging me from behind.
“Goodbye Gertrude,” Tate said, such relief in his words that it irked me. He wanted to get rid of me, like last night. I had kinda wanted to stay for dinner but seeing he was about to have an aneurysm at having me in his kitchen, I’d taken pity on him and left. But now, oh now I wanted to mess with him.
“I think I’ll watch. Chester wants me here for moral support.”
Tate looked away, his jaw doing that hilarious clenching thing again before he turned back. “Fine, just hurry up. I’m late.”
“I know, sugar. You said.”
I moved out of the way and over to Sunshine’s stall, rummaging in a hessian bag hanging from a nail that I knew contained carrots and holding one out to her. Tate greeted Chester, running a wide palm over the horse’s back and down his flank. Murmuring to him and bonding with him in a way that had me feeling all uncomfortable and a little thirsty.
Why was this so hot?
“It’s those damn chaps,” I muttered, squirming.
“Excuse me?” Tate called over his shoulder.
“Nice chaps!”
I heard him suck his teeth again and grinned to myself, he was too easy to mess with. All starchy and rigid.
When he turned to face Chester, I got the glorious view of his back. Wide, muscled with an intriguing dip between his shoulder blades that would be perfect to rest my head on. I shook said head now, commanding myself to stop sexualizing Tate. Which I would do the second I’d gotten a good look at his ass. Like the heavens had heard me, Tate bent down, his jeans molding to his skin and I swear I had a hot flash. That ass was high, round and tight.
“Oh mama,” I moaned quietly. He glanced over his shoulder again and I coughed to cover up my exclamation.
Right now, staring at this man, I wasn’t exactly sure why I’d sworn off them.
But there weremenand then there was Tate Wilder.
His biceps flexed as he picked up each of Chester’s hooves, inspecting them, his brow pinching above the rim of his glasses. When he pushed them higher up his nose, I swear my lady parts screamed and held up placards that all read10.
I found an old steel bucket and upended it, dropping my ass down ready to watch the show.
