“Some. My tone of voice and body language help a lot with comprehension.”
“We had a dog growing up, Coco, and she didn’t listen to anything I said, no matter how I said it. She was still a great pet, though.”
He smiled to himself, then turned, ready to go, but when he laid eyes on Kennedy, he needed a moment. Standing where she was, with subdued rays of light filtering into the barn behind her, she practically glowed, and the sight of her had him swallowing. Hard.
It’s Kennedy. The biggest pain in your butt. Trying to ignore her, however, proved futile. He couldn’t look away. She had on the same jeans, he’d guess, but the new white T-shirt was frayed around the collar and ends of her short sleeves and did little to hide the color of her bra. Pink. He immediately wondered if her underwear matched, then mentally slapped himself for caring.
She’d collected her hair up into a neat bun on top of her head, leaving the column of her neck bare, and he noticed a few more freckles there. But what really got to him where it hurt—in a good way—was the footwear. She’d put on the pair of boots again. Girly, but boots nonetheless.
He never in a million years would have thought he’d be face-to-face with Cowgirl Kennedy.
He liked it as much as he hated it.
“Is something wrong?” she asked, glancing down her body. “I thought jeans and boots would be best for riding.”
“You look great.”
Her head popped back up. Yeah, she was as shocked as he was by the compliment.
He quickly changed the subject. “This is Magnolia. She and I are ready to go.” He led them out of the barn.
“What about George?”
“I thought we’d ride together so I don’t have to worry about you falling off. Plus, I never made it back out to the trees yesterday, so we can take another look this morning.”
“I think there was an insult in there, but I’m going to ignore it.”
“Good idea.” He grabbed his Stetson hanging on the wall and dropped it on his head as they exited into the soft sunshine spilling over the mountains. Mornings were great for rides. The temperature cooler, the air fresher. And today the fog had stayed away.
“I’ll get on first, then have you hop on behind me.”
“You make it sound so easy. Magnolia, did you hear that?” Kennedy cupped her hand around her mouth and leaned closer to his horse. “He thinks I can hop on like it’s no big deal.”
She was talking to his horse. Like they were friends.
Something stirred inside him.
“All you have to do is place your left foot in the stirrup like this”—Maverick put his foot in—“then pull yourself up and swing your right leg over like this.” He moved in slow motion so she could see how simple it was to get seated on a horse.
She looked up at him with appreciation he felt in the middle of his chest. “I never thought I’d ride a horse, let alone ride one with you.” Her friendly voice sounded new and open-ended, like she had no intention of going back to the way things were between them. He could relate. A switch had been flipped and while a part of him still wanted her far away from his ranch, another part wondered what else they might do together this week.
“Right back at you.” That she stood here now was some kind of fantastic fluke.
“What if I miss?”
“Then you fall and try again.”
“All right.” She took tentative steps closer. Her tongue darted out to sweep over her bottom lip. He left her plenty of room to sit in the saddle behind him. “Here I go, Magnolia.”
“Left foot first,” he reminded her.
She took a huge breath in, her chest rising but not falling, and put her foot in the stirrup. Once her boot fit snugly in place, she whooshed out a breath, took his offered hand, and pulled herself up and over.
“Maverick!” She almost slid all the way over, but he caught her by snaking his right arm behind her and catching her around the waist. His shoulder grumbled at the strain on his muscles as he pushed her back into place.
“Grab onto me,” he instructed.
She latched on tight, her arms wrapping around his middle like she was trying to squeeze him to death. Maybe she was.
“I think you’re okay, so you can relax your hold a little.”
“Do not tell me how tight I can hold on.”
He fought a smile. Well, if he was going to die, there were a lot worse ways to go than on his favorite horse with a pretty girl’s warm breath on his neck and her breasts crushed against his back. In fact, he could feel every press and release of her chest, every quick beat of her heart.
“You okay if we start moving?” he asked after a few long beats of silence.
“Can you give me another minute?”
“Sure.” He held the reins in one hand by his hip and rubbed Magnolia’s neck with the other. Given Kennedy’s thirst for knowledge, he supposed talking her through this would be a good idea. “Balancing on a horse does take practice,” he said. “You have to get used to the motion and movements of the horse, but luckily you’ll be doing that while attached to me.”
Her chin moved up and down against his back.
“You don’t have to worry about doing anything but enjoying the scenery. I’ve got the reins, and that’s how Magnolia knows to turn or stop or trot or gallop. She and I have ridden together thousands of times and know each other’s body language with our eyes closed.”
Kennedy eased up on her death hold, lifted her head. “Okay, I’m good to go now. Thanks for giving me a minute.”
“No problem. We’ll start nice and slow, but if you ever feel uncomfortable or scared, just let me know and we can take a breather.”
“Sounds good.”
They walked down the dirt path toward the trees, moving slower than molasses, but oddly, it didn’t bother him. Time had a way of getting away from him, so right now he chose to enjoy every minute.
“You doing okay?” he asked over his shoulder.
“Yes. It’s so peaceful out here.” Her grip on him remained steady, but her voice held less trepidation.
“You picked a good time to barge your way into a ride.”
“I didn’t barge,” she argued.
“Whatever you say.” They continued off the beaten path toward the lake, across an overgrown pasture, and through wildflowers.
“How many acres do you own?” she asked.
“Just under a thousand.”