the fenced-in enclosure. She had on tight-fitting
gray pants and a tank top, the velvety black helmet, and a pair of
knee-high black leather boots that he found incredibly sexy, even
though they were styled for business, not pleasure.
Everything about her was sexy when she rode: the speed, the
inherent risk, the fluidity of her body. The way she leaned forward with each jump, her torso parallel with the horse's neck and
her sweet little behind rising out of the saddle. He was unable to
see her face when she'd ridden to the far end of the enclosure, but
when she rode back toward him he couldn't miss her expression,
which was a complicated blend of intense concentration and
otherworldly bliss.
That was what he wanted to draw: her face when she rode.
She cantered toward the fence where he stood watching her. The
horse's hooves thundered against the track and he found himself
thinking again of how high off the ground she was, and how big
those hooves were, how much the horse weighed, and what would happen if she slid out of the saddle and got trampled. But of course
she didn't. She was perfectly balanced and secure. Confidencethat was another element in her expression. Confidence, concentration, and sheer joy.
She'd told him she loved Five Star and depended on him. Ted
wanted her to love and depend on him. As much as she loved and
depended on her horse. More.
"I hope that didn't bore you," Erika said once they were back
in the Wagoneer, coasting out of the stable's dirt lot and onto the
road.
"Bore me? Are you kidding?"
She was driving, so she couldn't look at Ted. But she could feel
his gaze on her. He didn't seem bored now-in fact he seemed
more wired than usual, one leg jiggling and his voice bright with
energy. But that was now. Watching her do some jumping runs
couldn't have been that exciting. The excitement was in the riding. She herself got restless when she watched other people ride.
She'd evaluate their form, rate them in her mind-but all the
while, she'd be wishing she was on the horse, not standing on the
side, watching.
"You were awesome," he said. "At first I thought, shit, what if
you fall? But then I watched you and realized you weren't going
to fall."
"I've fallen a few times," she told him. She could feel him start
beside her, and she laughed. "Nothing serious. I'm still here. But
sometimes, you get an ornery horse and he just doesn't want
someone on his back, so he throws you. Five Star would never do
that," she added. "He's my sweetheart."
"I thought I was your sweetheart," Ted grumbled, although she
could hear laughter in his voice.
"You're my other sweetheart," she assured him, then taunted
him by adding, "Don't forget, I've been with Five Star a lot longer
than I've been with you." She cruised down the road in the
waning light. The Wagoneer's windows were open, letting in a
hot, dry breeze that carried the scent of pine and fresh-cut grass
and summer. "I'm going to miss him so much when I leave for
college."
Again she sensed Ted shifting next to her. She glanced his way
and saw him staring out the side window.
"I'll miss you, too," she said, realizing that maybe she
shouldn't have teased him. Maybe she should have told him that
once they'd started dating, she'd reapplied to Colorado College
with the request that she forego the Summer Start program and
begin college in the fall, so she could spend the summer with him.
If she told him that, however, he'd probably hear only the part
about her beginning college in the fall, not the part about her asking the school to reprocess her application because she wanted to
be with him all summer.
The subject of her leaving for college rarely came up, but when
it did Ted grew quiet, melancholy. She would miss him. They'd
been together nearly every day since the graduation party at
Jennifer's house, and they'd talked on the phone when they
couldn't see each other. She'd grown so comfortable around Ted,
as
gray pants and a tank top, the velvety black helmet, and a pair of
knee-high black leather boots that he found incredibly sexy, even
though they were styled for business, not pleasure.
Everything about her was sexy when she rode: the speed, the
inherent risk, the fluidity of her body. The way she leaned forward with each jump, her torso parallel with the horse's neck and
her sweet little behind rising out of the saddle. He was unable to
see her face when she'd ridden to the far end of the enclosure, but
when she rode back toward him he couldn't miss her expression,
which was a complicated blend of intense concentration and
otherworldly bliss.
That was what he wanted to draw: her face when she rode.
She cantered toward the fence where he stood watching her. The
horse's hooves thundered against the track and he found himself
thinking again of how high off the ground she was, and how big
those hooves were, how much the horse weighed, and what would happen if she slid out of the saddle and got trampled. But of course
she didn't. She was perfectly balanced and secure. Confidencethat was another element in her expression. Confidence, concentration, and sheer joy.
She'd told him she loved Five Star and depended on him. Ted
wanted her to love and depend on him. As much as she loved and
depended on her horse. More.
"I hope that didn't bore you," Erika said once they were back
in the Wagoneer, coasting out of the stable's dirt lot and onto the
road.
"Bore me? Are you kidding?"
She was driving, so she couldn't look at Ted. But she could feel
his gaze on her. He didn't seem bored now-in fact he seemed
more wired than usual, one leg jiggling and his voice bright with
energy. But that was now. Watching her do some jumping runs
couldn't have been that exciting. The excitement was in the riding. She herself got restless when she watched other people ride.
She'd evaluate their form, rate them in her mind-but all the
while, she'd be wishing she was on the horse, not standing on the
side, watching.
"You were awesome," he said. "At first I thought, shit, what if
you fall? But then I watched you and realized you weren't going
to fall."
"I've fallen a few times," she told him. She could feel him start
beside her, and she laughed. "Nothing serious. I'm still here. But
sometimes, you get an ornery horse and he just doesn't want
someone on his back, so he throws you. Five Star would never do
that," she added. "He's my sweetheart."
"I thought I was your sweetheart," Ted grumbled, although she
could hear laughter in his voice.
"You're my other sweetheart," she assured him, then taunted
him by adding, "Don't forget, I've been with Five Star a lot longer
than I've been with you." She cruised down the road in the
waning light. The Wagoneer's windows were open, letting in a
hot, dry breeze that carried the scent of pine and fresh-cut grass
and summer. "I'm going to miss him so much when I leave for
college."
Again she sensed Ted shifting next to her. She glanced his way
and saw him staring out the side window.
"I'll miss you, too," she said, realizing that maybe she
shouldn't have teased him. Maybe she should have told him that
once they'd started dating, she'd reapplied to Colorado College
with the request that she forego the Summer Start program and
begin college in the fall, so she could spend the summer with him.
If she told him that, however, he'd probably hear only the part
about her beginning college in the fall, not the part about her asking the school to reprocess her application because she wanted to
be with him all summer.
The subject of her leaving for college rarely came up, but when
it did Ted grew quiet, melancholy. She would miss him. They'd
been together nearly every day since the graduation party at
Jennifer's house, and they'd talked on the phone when they
couldn't see each other. She'd grown so comfortable around Ted,
as
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