Page 54 of Beat around the Bush
The skier behind Reed’s horse veered to the left, hitting a slight jump. He landed it perfectly, the horse not once breaking stride as the tension on the rope pulled taut.
They finished their lap, and Reed slowed his horse, walking off the adrenaline from the run.
“You don’t want to try it?” Lettie asked Oakley.
Oakley shook her head. “If you saw how terrible my little ski lesson just went, you would not be asking that.”
Brandy laughed. “I can’t ski for shit either. I have more fun on the horse anyway.”
“I’m sure Cal would pull you slow,” Lettie said.
“Slow or not, I’d still fall on my ass,” Brandy remarked.
Bailey turned to the girls. “And probably break another bone.”
Brandy narrowed her eyes at him. “Is anyone going to let that go?”
Lettie shrugged. “I’d call yourself lucky for having worked with horses all your life and you’ve only broken a finger.”
“A horse broke your finger?” Oakley asked.
Brandy held the finger she broke out to her, which was now fully healed. “Technically, a horse’s ass broke my finger on a fence panel. What a lame way to get hurt.”
I watched as Callan got ready with another skier on the track, the two of them discussing their run. Reed was now over by our parents on his horse, talking to some of the locals by the finish line.
Oakley was engaged in her conversation with Lettie and Brandy as Bailey watched as more horses passed with various skiers behind them. I tried my best to pay attention to the track, but every time Oakley laughed beside me, my mind was pulled to her.
It seemed that was happening a lot lately.
21
Oakley
Istood to the side of the track with Brandy and Lettie as Lennon got ready to do a lap on his horse, Winston. He’d decided to do a lap before they began wrapping up for the day, and I was glad for it. Between his cowboy hat and leather chaps, I was a goner. Brandy and Lettie were lost in conversation beside me, but I wasn’t paying attention to what they were talking about with all my focus on Lennon as he double-checked the saddle and mounted Winston.
The second his ass hit the saddle, I was awestruck. Lennon Bronson on a horse was an image I wanted to see every day. It was probably inappropriate to be thinking of him this way right now, but I was blaming my thoughts on the cold and the naughty hot chocolates.
The skier got ready behind him, and once he signaled that he was set to go, Lennon’s thighs tensed and they took off.
It was like the entire earth shook under Winston’s hooves. The air bent to their will as they flew, every atom in the universe standing at attention for Lennon’s instruction. Winston was a force to be reckoned with, with his beefy muscles and determined eyes, but Lennon was the manpower behind that horse. He was the leader, and fuck, if that didn’t turn me on.
Seeing Lennon whip that horse around the track with nothing but hard determination in his eyes did something to me.
Something I didn’t want to go away.
Lennon’s face was all stone, his entire mood serious as he and Winston sped through the snow, chunks of white kicking up behind them. The skier maneuvered through the snow with ease, like he was barely breaking a sweat despite Winston pulling him at a full gallop.
In what felt like seconds, they were crossing the finish line. Lennon gently slowed Winston as the skier did the same, angling the tips of his skis together.
“Go over there,” Lettie urged me.
“What?” I asked, snapping out of my trance.
“He’s not running again, so go over to him,” she said.
I dug the toe of my boot in the snow. “I don’t know…”
“Girl, go! We all know you want to,” Brandy exclaimed.
