Page 11 of Not My Little Drummer Boy
“I’d like that,” he says. “To get to know you better, Rachel.”
Teddy’s mouth curls in a sleepy half-smile, and there’s an obvious invitation in the arch of his dark brow and the spark in those deep brown eyes. It would be so easy to fire off something flirty, but I bite my tongue. Tempting as he is, I’m not about to hand TeddyHargrove an easy win. He’s already cocky enough without me succumbing to his charms with one flutter of those long lashes.
I need to escape.
“You’ll have to catch me first.”
With a soft jab of my heels in his flank, Solly’s off. Although Teddy’s gutsy little mare makes a valiant effort, with our head start and Solly’s longer strides, we arrive at the far end of the meadow well ahead of them. I draw Solly to a halt on a small rise, and watch as Teddy and Bodie come barrelling towards us. Teddy’s bravely hanging on, the pair of them sporting matching determined expressions. I pray he doesn’t fall off as a result of my competitive nature. I’m sure I prefer Teddy Hargrove all in one piece—besides, Haley would kill me if I wrecked her wedding party on day one.
As they draw close, he pulls Bodie back into a canter, then eases her into a trot with surprising skill for someone who claims he’s had no formal training and has hardly ridden for years. A natural—lucky bugger not having to endure years of barking instructors to develop a half-decent seat.
“All right, round one to you,” he says with a grin as he lets Bodie drop her head to join Solly in plucking grass. “But I’ll warn you, I don’t give up easily.”
I don’t answer, letting the happy chomping of horses and twittering of little finches in the scrubby bushes fill the silence between us. I shift my weight in the saddle, avoiding his gaze.
I’m torn between shutting this conversation down with something snarky, or encouraging him. But really—why am I even debating? He’s gorgeous, likeable, and available, and clearly interested. My pulse quickens traitorously whenever he smiles.
Long term, though? Not a chance. He fails on too many counts. Imagine introducing him to my father. It would be Dad clutching his chest with a heart attack instead of my mother. And I’ve seen what Haley puts up with, her rock star forever on the road. Pierre was always away too. The doubts about what might have happened on those trips have convinced me I need someone who’s actually around if I’m going to feel secure.
Short-term should be simpler. There’s nothing wrong with it being just sex. I could enjoy this week, then file it away under ‘fun-filled memories for lonely nights’—something to pull out and thumb through occasionally when I see him pictured with some beautiful woman, and smile, knowing that once I was one of them. But even that makes me hesitate.
Before Pierre, it would have been a no-brainer. Before he talked me out of my carefree life and into a cage dressed up as love.
Old Rachel was a party girl, out for fun, happily hooking up with different guys. I’d enjoy them for a while, then let them know I wanted to move on. Sometimes they did first—calling things off over drinks or with a text that never stung.
I’m unsure if I can find that version of myself now, the woman who could keep feelings out of the equation, and who didn’t see an ending as a rejection. I twist my braid around my finger, a nervous habit I thought I’d outgrown years ago.
A rustle in the bushes jolts me from my thoughts. My horse, Solly, carries on munching, oblivious to anything other than the sweet grass, but Teddy’s mare, Bodie, jerks her head upwards, eyes wide in alarm, nostrils flared.
The rustling grows louder, twigs snapping with deliberate menace. There’s a crash and then a harsh scream. I freeze, heart in mythroat. For a split second, I’m sure someone’s being murdered in the woods. When the culprit struts out in a riot of feathers, I can’t help a shaky laugh. A peacock lurches into view, iridescent plumage flashing in the sunlight, announcing his arrival with that brash voice.
Solly merely raises his big head, gives the bird a curious glance and then drops back to the grass, but Bodie flings herself backwards away from the source of the unearthly sound.
Teddy snatches for the reins left dangling across Bodie’s neck, but he’s too slow. The horse rears up, and Teddy goes sliding backwards off the saddle, arms windmilling as he falls. He lands with a heavy thud and a groan, sprawled inelegantly in the dirt. My heart leaps into my throat as I scramble down.
“Teddy, are you okay?”
He winces, biting at his lip. “Yeah, only a bruised arse and a dent to my pride,” he sighs. “Thanks to you, missy.” He glares up at Bodie, who gazes calmly down at him as if wondering who’s responsible for this human on the ground. “Some warrior queen you are, carrying on like that over a silly bloody bird.”
“It was a rather big bird,” I say, offering my hand. “And that scream almost made me shit myself.”
Teddy grasps my outstretched hand, and I help lever him to his feet. He maintains his grip once he’s upright, using it to draw me close.
We’re a similar height, and I’m looking straight into a pair of molten chocolate eyes. Those freckles dusted beneath them are like cinnamon on coffee. There’s a smudge of dirt on his cheek, and I reach forward to brush it away, the faint stubble prickling at my fingertips.
Without breaking my gaze, Teddy grabs at my hand and presses it to his lips. The warm, soft pressure sends a jolt of current through me, down the length of my arm, coursing through my centre, till it takes up residence as a dull, pleasant heat between my legs.
The flutter of his breath across my hand provokes a tingle down my spine, as I imagine that mouth roving further, nuzzling at the delicate spot beneath my ear, trailing along my stomach, caressing the soft skin of my thigh. I swallow hard, paralysed by the wanting, mesmerised by the desire in his eyes. I want this too, but it shouldn’t be happening. It’s too soon. Too dangerous.
I jerk my hand away, flustered and confused. Tugging the other from his grasp, I clutch at the sides of his helmet, which now sits a little askew, the riot of red curls spilling out from beneath it.
“This is way too loose,” I scold, taking on the tone of a bossy older sister. Teddy’s younger than my own little brother. Much safer to think of him like that. “I can’t believe Poppy didn’t notice. You could have cracked your pretty head open.” With a frown, I adjust each strap, tightening them beneath his chin.
“So you think I’m pretty, eh?” His mouth tips up in a mischievous smile, and straight away I’m melting again. There’s no way I can think of this guy as a little brother.
“We should be getting back. Haley wants to see everyone after breakfast. Who knows what she’s planning, but hey, we don’t argue with the bride.”
I try to keep my tone light, but inside there’s a swarm of angry bees buzzing their displeasure at my cowardice. From the moment I set eyes on Teddy, there was an attraction. Why shouldn’t I act on it? How much damage could one week do?
