Page 22 of The Wild Charge

And that was before Reese executed a slow, unselfconscious up-and-down sweep of him, lingering on his boots, the touch of his gaze like a brand as it slid back up Tenny’s long legs; rested, briefly, on his narrow waist, where he’d tucked his shirt in. When his attention returned to Tenny’s face, he swallowed, a gratifying bob of his Adam’s apple.

“Hi,” he said.

“This is what you’re supposed to wear riding,” Tenny said, too defensively. He winced inwardly, but, like with most of the nasty things he said, there was no taking it back.

Reese swallowed again. “I know.” He didn’t blink; Tenny had the strange sense that he was working hard not to glance downward again.

“Tenny,” Emmie called.

It was a relief to turn away. His face was heating, and he’d be damned if he blushed again today.

~*~

Tenny always wore tight jeans. In fact, his jeans were tighter through…certain areas…than the riding pants he now wore. But the sight of them had been so unexpected, and the black material was very thin and clinging, especially when Tenny had turned and walked away from him…

Reese was having trouble rectifying his own reaction to them. They were only pants. And boots. Very tall boots. Very fitted boots. And he’d seen Tenny naked many times; there should have been nothing stirring about the way his white t-shirt clung to the lean lines of his waist. Nothing at all.

He was sitting on the same bench upon which he’d sat the last time he was here, beside the arena, in the shade of a tree. A breeze rustled the leaves overhead, and dappled, golden shadows danced across the grass at his feet. In the arena, Emmie had halted her horse in a corner, and was offering instruction to Tenny, riding the same black horse as before, its trot big and swinging, Tenny sitting it easily.

They made a startling portrait, man and horse: all black and white, down to the wraps on the horse’s legs. The muscles on Tenny’s arms gleamed with a faint sheen of sweat; the wind toyed with his dark hair, and Reese thought again, the third time since he’d sat down, that Tenny ought to be wearing a helmet, like Emmie was.

The brush of feet on grass revealed that, once again, he’d lost his hypervigilance. A moment later, Becca sat beside him, in a stroke of déjà vu.

“Nice,” she murmured.

He glanced toward her, briefly, reluctant to take his eyes from the arena, and saw her gaze tracking Tenny’s progress. Her expression was openly admiring.

“Don’t tell Shane I said so, ‘cause it would hurt his feelings, but your boyfriend ishot.”

Boyfriend.

Hot.

Reese didn’t know which part of that sentence to refute first, his mind suddenly clouded with a tangle of confusing thoughts. He ended up not answering at all, so Becca continued:

“I mean, Shaney’s hot, too, definitely. But in a different way. Tenny’s all, like,look at me, you know?”

“He’s…very proud,” Reese said, surprised by the strangled sound of his own voice.

“To be honest, he should be,” she said, like a confession, and nodded toward the ring. Tenny had worked the horse into the next pace – a canter? – and was spiraling it into tighter and tighter circles, its arched neck seeming to draw up into a more severe curve. “Looks like a model, rides like a pro. Shame he’s kind of an asshole, though.”

The horse swished its tail, and Tenny clucked to it, eased pressure on his inside rein, and the horse settled again, circling even tighter.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Reese said, belatedly. Stupidly. He had no idea if a word even existed for what they were.

“Uh-huh, sure, sweetie,” Becca said, then got to her feet and walked off with a cheerysee ya.

Boyfriend.

Reese spent the rest of Tenny’s ride watching him – the easy way he gripped the reins, the way he’d murmur low, soothing things to the horse when it became unsettled – and contemplating that word.

He’d never met a Lean Dog who had a boyfriend. He didn’t know if it was…allowed. The thought left him feeling strangely bereft.

Kris had encouraged him to date, and he knew she’d meantgirlfriend, but though he was appreciative of the club girls’ energy and willingness in the bedroom, he didn’t want to go places and have meals with them.

Didn’t want to sit and watch them ride a horse in black pants and boots.

When the ride ended, and the horses had been walked laps around the ring on loose reins, Reese stood up and followed Tenny and Emmie back up to the barn, trailing far behind. He went in through the wide double doors, and waited, leaning against an empty stall front.

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