He tossed her a wicked grin. “Thought you’d never ask.”
“You signed the liability forms, right?”
His laugh was deep and rich, pumping the space with life. “If I fall, I won’t sue.”
“Good. Follow me, Irish.” She kicked her heels and eased into a trot, then broke from the woods into a vibrant green pasture that spread out for miles. With a whistle, she let Scar break free and fell into a smooth, satisfying gallop.
He was right beside her, expert enough not to need to follow, and Maximus welcomed the challenge of the casual race. Clouds and sky merged and whizzed above, and she stood up in the stirrups, letting her body move with the horse beneath her. Maximus took the lead, and she caught Aidan’s wink as he rushed by, but Harper loved a good competition, so she dug in and urged Scar for more speed. Hooves pounded the ground, kicking up dirt and grass, and she let herself soar.
The horses slowed together, both instinctively knowing when the race was over, and settled into a satisfying trot. Smiling, heart pounding, she glanced at Aidan to gauge his reaction.
A satisfied grin curved his lips. A few beads of sweat dotted his brow. Confident and tall in the saddle, his thighs pressed against the horse’s flank, the sun turned his hair to spun gold, highlighting the toasty color of his skin. Amber eyes glinted with pleasure and something else, something a bit deeper that hadn’t been there before. Caught off guard, she kept his stare, and her chest tightened in an odd ache.
“Harper?” The sound of her name lifted in the wind.
Blinking, she tried desperately to figure out what was going on. “Yeah?”
“Are you a wanderer or a homebody?”
In that moment, time stretched and pulsed with unspoken questions and a sizzling attraction she’d never experienced before. It had taken one solitary ride to figure out this man called to her—a man she barely knew, who was only here on holiday. He waited for her answer, but there was only one to give. “A homebody.”
He nodded slowly. “I thought so.”
The moment exploded with intensity, then faded away like fireworks turned into ash. She ripped her gaze away and turned Scar around. In a light tone, she joked, “Not bad . . . for a trainer.”
His chuckle floated in the air. “Not bad for a girl.”
She swiveled in the saddle. “Did you just—”
He flung his hands up in the air. “Just teasing you, love. It’s obvious you were born to ride.”
The quick surge of pleasure took her off guard, so she pretended it was nothing. “Ready to go back?”
“Yeah.”
They walked the horses toward the woods. This time, there was only a thoughtful silence and the sense of something important drifting away, but it had been so quick, she didn’t know how to grieve it.
Chapter Four
Aidan dismounted from Maximus and tried to wrap his head around the scene in the field.
Sure, Harper intrigued him, and he wanted to learn more about her. He figured she’d be a temporary distraction. She was fun to annoy and was different from any other woman he’d met. But that odd moment of connection between them? The way she looked at him and his chest got all tight and achy? That shit was stuff that happened in bad romantic movies, and he didn’t believe in magic moments.
His question had been too personal and too intimate.
But it was her answer that haunted him. The raw pang of regret that hit him like a sucker punch was foreign. Almost like he’d lost something he hadn’t even had in the first place.
Ridiculous.
He shoved the strange feeling aside and tugged off the horse’s bridle.
“I can do that,” she interrupted. “Guests just enjoy the ride.”
“No, I like to follow through. He gave me a good ride, and he deserves my attention.”
“Fine, but you better not tattle on me to Ophelia like you did the first time.”
He arched his brow. “I’m not a tattler.”
She snorted. “Yeah, right. You wanted to annoy me, so you told my sister I hurt your feelings. You knew I didn’t want to see you again.”
He gave a shrug. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You were smitten the moment you met me.”
Her laugh was genuine. “I thought you were an arrogant ass who knew nothing about horses but wanted to pretend he did.”
“And you were wrong.”
“I was wrong,” she admitted. “About the second half. You do know about horses.”
“And the first half?”
She tossed her head with a touch of playfulness. “Jury’s still out.”
He led Maximus over to the hitching pole and grabbed a brush from the rack, grinning. The easy banter between them was back, and any lingering tension had dissipated. Maybe it had just been a weird fluke. Maybe being back on a horse and riding for pleasure had affected him in a way he hadn’t prepared for. She’d shared the special moment with him, so he’d transferred it to her. Made sense.
“I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but you don’t seem to have much help for a farm this size,” he said, rubbing Max’s rump.
“My full-time assistant is off the next couple of weeks with back strain, and my regular summer volunteers have all found real jobs. Ethan’s schedule is a bit crammed with his fiancée’s PR business, their upcoming wedding, and renovating a house, so we’re just in survival mode right now.”
The words popped out of his mouth. “I can help out.”
She waved her hand in the air. “That’s very nice of you, but we’re fine. Can’t have guests doing any work.”
“No, I mean it.” He shifted his weight and let out a restless sigh. “Listen, I’m bored out of my mind. I wanted some downtime but it backfired. I’m not talking nine to five here. Just a few hours. What do you think?”
“I think you’re nuts. If someone gave me a vacation, I wouldn’t offer to help anyone during it.”
“I don’t believe you. Has there ever been a time in your life you haven’t worked?”
She leaned against her horse and shot him a look. “No, which is why I’d take the vacay. Besides, you’re leaving soon. Why don’t you explore the area? There’re a million things to do around here. The strawberry festival is in Beacon this weekend. You’ll have a blast.”
He should drop it. Obviously, she didn’t want his help, and what if that crazy energy field came back between them?
Strangely disappointed, Aidan finished up with Maximus and grabbed an apple from the bushel in front of the barn. “What do you do at a strawberry festival?” he asked.
The horse snatched the treat and chewed with enthusiasm, juice rolling out of his mouth, lips curled up in pleasure.
“Eat strawberries. They have great shortcake. And strawberry beer. Craft booths. Maybe they’ll even give pony rides. Go enjoy yourself, Irish. You’ll be back with your own horses in no time.”
Her words flicked at him like tiny stings. It was ridiculous to feel dismissed. He had nothing to do with her life or her barn.
Already he could tell she was shifting her attention away, caught in the million tasks ahead. He knew the feeling well because that’s how he’d lived his entire life: without apology or second thought.