Page 49 of Boundaries

Dread uncoiled in my stomach, “What are you doing here? The Lonsdale’s are away.” I spoke like I’d expected them to know that.

Nixon’s brow creased “Really, that’s odd. Pete was supposed to show me Tiny. Mitchell set it up with him a few weeks ago.” I had never heard any of the McKenna boys call Mitchell dad. Under normal circumstances that would have been weird, but of course, the relationship between them was anything but normal.

I raised my eyebrows, “Well, you’re not in the book. I checked it at the weekend,” I replied with a frown before discarding the broom in one of the racks and placing my cap on top.

The McKenna boys exchanged a look of doubt. Their dad’s illness meant he had probably got the dates wrong.

Mason looked mouth-watering in loose-fitted jeans and a checked shirt with the sleeves rolled back. I noted the veins which stood out on his tanned muscular forearms again. Don’t look at his hands, that’s where his fingers are, don’t do it!

I came to stand before them and purposefully pushed my thighs together to ward off any unexpected reactions. The way he looked was doing strange things to my insides and an emotion I didn’t recognise, beat within me like a drum. The kindness he showed me when I had been ill had started to grind down my defences.

Nixon also looked hot in black jeans and a black T-shirt. He was slightly taller than his brother and just as well-stacked, muscle-wise. Nixon’s hair was also dark brown but it was cropped close to his head, not exactly a buzz cut but still an army look. Mason’s ‘do’ was slightly longer with a kink to it. Hair that stuck out in all the right directions and encouraged a female to run her hands through it.

Together they packed a mean punch to the female regions. I told myself off for giving Nixon sexual appeal points, reminding myself he was doing my sister. Gross.

“Saddle Tiny for me,” Nixon commanded. “I want to see how he fairs.”

I almost smiled, did this guy know me at all? Telling me what to do would only end up with me doing the opposite. Even when my dad tried it.

“Nope.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, my eyebrows inching further toward my hairline. I was so glad I had my hair tied back; the breeze was cool against my neck.

“Do it, please. We’ve come here to view the horse as agreed with Pete. Text him if you don’t believe me.”

I wasn’t being awkward, I was playing by the rules, “Why aren’t you in the book then? Maybe your dear old dad got it wrong.” As soon as the mean words were out, I regretted them.

“Maybe they’re shit at admin. Stop trying to stall and do it, Amy,” Nixon scolded in a stern voice. Like that would work. He wasn’t my brother and he certainly wasn’t my father.

I blew out a breath and stopped frowning. My forehead had started to hurt. “I can’t and even if I wanted to, I don’t know how.” I wasn’t shitting them; I hadn’t saddled a horse in years and was always too busy to watch Alex or Mr Lonsdale do it.

Mason jumped in there then, “You’re a liar, you had no problem saddling Mabel that time.” I hated that he brought Mabel up. That certainly wouldn’t ease the mood.

I decided to be honest and flicked my head back, my ponytail swishing like the tail of a horse.

“If you want the truth, I haven’t been on a horse since then. Couldn’t face it.”

“Why?” Mason shot out, totally dumbfounded.

“You know why, after what happened.” The conversation felt way too personal, especially with Nixon standing there with his eyes flicking between us.

“You mean because she was destroyed later?”

I nodded, “Yes, it was my fault. After what I did.”

Creases marked Mason’s forehead and he opened his mouth to speak but then thought better of it. Had he been about to chew me out for being the reason Mabel was put to sleep?

An odd vibe passed between us and Nixon cleared his throat, breaking the silence.

“We can do it. You probably won’t be able to lift it anyway. I imagine his tack will be heavy.”

I felt patronised even though he didn’t say it in that way. Still, I went with, “That’s sexist.”

Mason chuckled, “Nope, that’s genetics.”

“I’m stronger than I look,” I replied tartly, directly into my unwanted brother-in-law’s face. Mason drew back my attention when he grinned and said, “Yes, I remember you saying that the other week.” Reminding me of that day when he’d grabbed me at his place and threatened to put me over his knee. Taunting me to free myself when I had no fucking chance.

I gave in although I wouldn’t have said I did it gracefully. They were McKenna’s and determined to get their own way and there was nothing wrong with Nixon taking the horse out for a test run. Not really. He was like his brothers; they were all excellent horsemen. I would add them to the bookings book just in case anything went wrong, to cover myself.

---