Page 62 of Love Me Fierce

“Did you talk with your landlord?” he asks.

“Yes. He sent someone to fix the locks yesterday. I snuck down there during my lunch hour to get the new keys.” I block out the glimpse I didn’t want of the interior and the condescending scowl from the locksmith. Did he think I caused the damage inside?

Everett glances up, his serious brown eyes in shadow beneath his hat. “Do you know what you’re going to do?”

“No, but… at the very least I need to go back and salvage what I can. Clean.” I heave a sigh, puffing my cheeks. Then there’s the new mattress and couch I need to buy, the food and toiletries to restock. I should have been using my spare time to do this already, but going back has been harder than I anticipated.

“You aren’t doing it alone.”

My stubborn independence sparks to life inside me. “Everett,” I say, my voice tense.

“Sepp and Hudson want in, too. My parents said they’d be happy to watch Mateo.”

To have a team of people ready to jump in like this makes my face hot and my breaths shaky. “I don’t know what to say.”

“I think a simple ‘sure, I’d love some help’ would do it.”

His teasing softens the discomfort a little. “Sure, I’d love some help.”

He winks. “Okay, let’s get you up, make sure the stirrups are the right length.”

June’s spare boots feel good on my feet, giving me a boost of confidence as I slip between the two horses loosely tied to twin hitches just inside the barn. My horse, Buck, is a gentle giant with a shiny mahogany coat and a dark mane. Despite his name, Everett assured me he’s docile and dependable. Though Buck let me pet him and stroke his strong neck earlier, the prospect of climbing onto his back feels like something the two of us should discuss first.

Once I’m standing near the left stirrup, Everett comes in close behind me. His warmth and that fresh pepper scent mixed with the smell of leather and horses is enough to make my blood heat and my pulse tap faster. I force out a firm breath to get my attention back on Buck.

“Reach up and grab the pommel with your left hand and the saddle with your right, then tuck your left foot into the stirrup.”

It’s awkward lifting my leg like I’m Spiderman scaling a building, but I get the ball of my boot into place.

“Now you’re gonna gently weight that foot and as you rise, swing your right leg over the saddle.”

I eye Buck, but he’s facing the barn’s opening, his eyelids half-closed, like the anticipation of me jumping on his back doesn’t faze him.

“Ol’ Buck’s ready for you. Promise,” Everett says, as if he’s reading my mind.

I rock onto my left foot and pull with my hands, but it’s a long way up and the saddle shifts a little, throwing my balance off.

Everett is there in a flash with his hands around my waist, guidingme up.

“That’s it,” he says as I get my right leg around and settle into the saddle.

Everett flashes me a grin. I pretend that I didn’t just have my ass in his face and try to grin back at him.

He fusses with the lengths of my stirrups, those competent hands moving so efficiently. What would those same hands feel like on the rest of my body?

“Put equal weight in both stirrups and stand,” Everett asks, stepping back, his eyes on my feet.

When I do, he nods. “Looks good. Does it feel good?”

A pulse of warmth washes through me, drawing my heartbeat lower. “I think so.”

He beams.

He leads his horse, a smoky gray mare named—of all things—Smoky, and mine out of the barn. As Buck lumbers along, the feel of his muscles moving beneath me sends a little thrill dancing over my skin.

Everett stops us once we’re clear of the barn, and hands me the reins. “Remember, keep them loose.”

“Right.” Though he taught me what to do with these reins, that lesson has melted away with the clouds thanks to watching this cowboy in action.

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