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Wild for the Girl Page 6
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Page 6
He laughed. “No thanks, I only do the riding part. And if you’re going to force me to find another woman, I need to get going.”
She folded her arms. “Uh-uh. When you take lessons from me, you learn everything about taking care of your horse. You’ll be a more convincing cowboy if you’ve lugged a few saddles and groomed a few horses.”
“You just want to see me sweat.” He arched an eyebrow and cocked his head. “Will it turn you on?”
“Sure, nothing’s better than a sweaty man who smells like a horse.”
“Kinky.” A slow smile spread across his face and his eyelids lowered with the sexy, bedroom look his fans sighed over. “I love kinky women.”
She rolled her eyes. “Idiot.”
He dropped the seductive look, watching her as he slipped off Misty’s bridle. “You’re a tough one, T.J., but you play a good game. I’m not giving up.” He replaced the bridle with the halter and snapped the cross ties on. As he moved to Misty’s side to loosen the cinch, he glanced at her. “You know, when you keep saying no, some guys take it as a challenge.”
“And some guys actually take it at face value, the way it’s meant.”
“Some guys give up too easily. If I did that, I’d never have made it in this business. No, you’re my ultimate goal now, T.J. My Everest. I can’t quit until I conquer you.” He slid the saddle off, grunting at the sudden weight, then flashed a smile. “Is this what does it for you, T.J.? Marlboro men who toss saddles over their shoulders? ’Cause I could do that.” He boosted the saddle up, and tried to do a casual one-handed hold, nearly dropping it. “Damn, that’s hard,” he said, shaking pinched fingers. “How do you do that?”
She chuckled. “I don’t. But if you have to show off, turn it around, like this.” She helped him balance the saddle over his shoulder, then shook her head as he faked a bowlegged swagger toward the tack room at the far end of the aisle. Still obnoxious, but she had to admit he was funny. She hoped his upcoming movie was a tongue-in-cheek comedy, because he’d be pretty good at it.
“Why are you always such a bitch?”
T.J. started at the voice behind her and turned to find Beth frowning at her. Tad’s assistant always seemed to lurk nearby, but T.J. hadn’t noticed her until now. She was sorry she had. “Excuse me, did you just call me a bitch? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Beth glowered, hands fisted at her sides, and T.J. was reminded of the phrase, if looks could kill. If Beth had her way, T.J. would be a smoking cinder right now.
Tad’s assistant blew aside a strand of hair, the better to glare at her. “It means you think you’re so special you can turn down a date with Tad Prescott. I’m tired of hearing it. Thousands of women would kill to be in your place, and you toss him aside as if he’s no one, when the truth is, he’s too good for you. You’re arrogant, disrespectful, and rude. That makes you a class-A bitch.”
T.J. blinked at the venom in Beth’s words. The girl had never looked friendly, but she’d been quiet, giving no indication of the animosity she obviously felt. Her first instinct was to ask, “Are you crazy?” but staring at the angry splotches of red on Beth’s cheeks, it occurred to her that maybe she was. Or close enough that she didn’t want to piss her off more.
“Tad’s a good-looking man,” she said carefully, noting that it didn’t win her any points. “And I’m sure he’s a good actor. That doesn’t mean I want to sleep with him.”
“Why not? One time, and he’ll forget about you and move on.”
My God, she really was crazy. “That’s not a plus. I’m not sleeping with a man just to get him to leave me alone.”
Beth’s eyes narrowed to evil slits. “As if you could do better,” she scoffed. “Tad is so much more than you’ll ever know. He’s kind, and funny, and smart, and possibly one of the most talented actors ever.”
T.J. might have agreed with the first three points, but thought the last one was an exaggeration. But what did she know? Not enough to argue it, especially with an obsessed lunatic. “Tell you what, Beth, if you like him so much, you sleep with him.”
For a brief moment pain flashed across Beth’s face, and T.J. felt her blood turn cold. Oh, shit. She’d scored a bull’s-eye without even trying. Tad had probably never looked at Beth that way, and never would, despite the fact that no one wanted him more. The girl had turned her unrequited love into a mission to win Tad’s favor in whatever way she could, which apparently included helping him procure the women he did desire. Even the ones she hated.
A second later the pain vanished from Beth’s face, replaced by a stony disdain. “I would, but for some unfathomable reason, he wants you.”
“Tad doesn’t have to get everything he wants.”
Beth’s answer was flat and decisive. “Yes, he does.”
T.J. hardened her expression. Maybe she should placate Beth and pretend to waver, but treating men like gods wasn’t in her DNA. “Not this time.”
The side of Beth’s mouth curled into a sneer. “Because you’d rather suck up to your boss.”
Caution prickled T.J.’s scalp and warned her to choose her words carefully. In some twisted way, Beth was jealous on Tad’s behalf, and that was weird enough to make T.J. want to keep her distance. “I don’t suck up to anyone.”
Beth barked out a derisive laugh. “I’ve seen the way you and Reese look at each other. If you aren’t doing him yet, you will be soon.”
The crude language pushed the limits of her tolerance. Through gritted teeth, she said, “First, Reese Barringer isn’t my boss. And second, my private life is none of your business.”
Beth’s gaze was distant and calculating, as if T.J.’s words hadn’t even registered with her. Tad’s happy whistle did though, as he walked up the aisle toward them, and the girl lowered her voice to a harsh whisper. “You don’t even care about people, do you? It’s all about your job. Do you actually think you’ll get a raise if you spread your legs for him? He’ll drop you like the little whore you are, and never think twice about it.”
T.J. recoiled at the language, and at the transformation from unassuming assistant to full-blown nutjob. Beth’s laugh was low and bitter, sending goose bumps over T.J.’s arms. “You’re just a stable hand, T.J., and that’s all you’ll ever be. A stable whore.”
T.J. narrowed her eyes, giving Beth the same look she would have given a scorpion had one suddenly materialized in front of her. You didn’t try to reason with something that poisonous, you just got rid of it.
“Get out,” she hissed between clenched teeth. “Get out of this barn and don’t ever come back.”
The last of her words was drowned out by Tad’s enthusiastic call. “Hey, Bethy! Did you see me do that flat-out run-and-sliding stop in the arena?”
Beth’s face morphed instantly into an expression of pride. “I did! You were fantastic!”
“I know! Who’d have guessed, huh? A couple of weeks of lessons, and I’m a goddamned cowboy!”
“You’re a natural,” Beth agreed. “You were amazing!”
T.J. battled a numb sensation, trying to get a grip on reality. Beth’s evil persona had disappeared so fast, and so thoroughly, that she knew Tad would never believe what she’d said. She doubted he’d ever seen a hint of it.
Tad picked up a curry comb and started rubbing Misty’s withers, then caught T.J.’s eye with a grin. “Hey, teach, when do I graduate? I’m pretty damn good at this, if I do say so myself. What’s left to learn?”
“Not much,” she answered, unable to take her eyes off Beth. But the girl acted like she wasn’t there, her worshipful gaze fastened on Tad. T.J. didn’t trust her for a second. Taking the curry from Tad’s hands, she said, “I changed my mind, Tad. You can take off. I’ll finish up with Misty.”
He blinked, then handed her the brush. “You’re the teacher.”
“That’s right, and you did enough. Just go.” The faster the better. Chills spread across her shoulders as she turned her back on Beth to face him. She could almost feel a blade slippi
ng between them. “It’s lunchtime. Go. Some poor misguided girl is probably hoping you’ll show up.”
“True, true. So many girls, so little time. And I have to keep in practice for when you say yes, don’t I?” He winked and clicked his tongue flirtatiously. “Come on, Bethy, let’s get lunch.”
Beth rushed to his side. As they walked off, T.J. saw him put a friendly hand on Beth’s shoulder and ask, “Did you get that girl’s number? You know, from the other night, the one with the . . . ?” He made an expansive motion in front of his chest. “Erin? No, Erica.”
Beth was already thumbing her phone as they walked, retrieving the information. T.J. took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, letting the lingering hatred from Beth’s attack dissipate with it.
The girl was sick. Obsessed and delusional for sure. Tad probably had no clue, and thought he was incredibly lucky to have such a devoted assistant. It was going to be difficult to convince him to send Beth away during his final lessons. But T.J. would have to find a way. Her job was to point out everything Tad did wrong, and in Beth’s eyes that would be uncalled-for criticism.
She just hoped vengeance wasn’t another one of Beth’s little problems.
8
Sweat clung to both T.J. and her horse as she walked him back to the barn. Ninety-degree days were rare at this altitude, but they were close to it today, and both she and Black Jack were wrung out from the ride. A drenching cold rain would be welcome right now, the kind that blew through frequently in the afternoons, but there was no sign of one in the clear blue sky.
“You don’t mind sharing the wash stall with me, do you, fella?” She ran a hand over the slick black hair on Jack’s neck, then pulled at her cotton shirt, billowing the front in and out in hopes of getting more air circulating beneath it. Her sports bra stuck to her like a second skin, thick and damp with sweat. Her jeans clung, too, and she couldn’t wait to switch them for the clean pair in the office.
Her riding boots were coming off as soon as possible, even if she had to walk through the barn barefoot. Unsnapping the chin strap on her safety helmet, she pulled it off, shaking the hair that lay plastered to her head. It didn’t help. She could fix that soon enough—horse shampoo would do just fine for her hair. The best part would be holding the hose over her head and letting the cold water pour down.
“How about I hose you down first,” she told Jack, anticipating the cool water, “then you hose me. Then we’ll shampoo all that sweat and dirt off you, head to tail, then you can do the same for me, but just my head—”
“I’ll take you up on that.”
She looked up and saw Reese. She stopped dead, registering the jarring reality—she looked like hell and probably smelled just as bad.
“Hi.” She spared a moment for an appreciative look at what he did for denim and a simple cotton shirt. “Aren’t you supposed to be working?”
“It’s past quitting time and I wanted to see you.” He reached for her, and she put a hand up to his chest in sudden panic, holding him back. “Reese! I smell like a horse!”
“I don’t care.” He ignored her hand and pushed closer, trapping her arm between them and taking her mouth in a delicious kiss that sent even more heat racing through her body. “I think I like the smell of horses,” he murmured, nuzzling her neck.
She laughed and batted him off. “Cut it out, I need a shower.”
Something sparked to life in his eyes, but instead of the wiseass comment she expected, he rubbed a hand over Jack’s neck, massaging the poll just behind his ears. “Who’s this handsome guy?”
“Jack. Black Jack on his papers. His breeder owned a casino.”
Reese eyed him, head to hoof and down the length of his body, and she had the impression he knew what to look for. “He’s magnificent. Am I missing something? What’s wrong with him?”
“Nothing!”
“Then how did we ever afford a horse like this for trail rides?”
“You didn’t. He’s not yours. I mean he’s not your dad’s,” she corrected, trying not to forget that Reese wasn’t staying. “He’s mine. I’ve been training him for the past few months, and I spend so much time here every day that I decided to keep him here until I’m done with this job.”
Reese stroked his hand down Jack’s face, and the horse lowered his head, rubbing his itchy face against Reese’s shirt front. A damp smudge of dust and sweat marked the center of the shirt. T.J. pulled him back, not wanting to encourage a move that could knock over an unsuspecting person, but Reese laughed and rubbed his palm firmly over the star between Jack’s eyes. “He’s a beautiful animal.”
“I know.” She smiled as she stroked a hand over Jack’s withers, then started walking again so his muscles wouldn’t tie up. “Normally, I couldn’t afford him, but I got him free.”
“Free! How’d you do that?”
“The guy who bought him as a yearling never put any time into him. He grew up to be a big horse with the attitude that he could do whatever he wanted to. No one could handle him, and they just wanted him gone. His owner told me if I could load him in a trailer, I could have him.”
“And you did.”
She nodded. It hadn’t been easy, and had taken three hours and a lot of patience to get him to load calmly, but he hadn’t fought her on anything after that. “He needed a lot of bad habits corrected, but he’s coming along nicely.”
“Then what? You sell him?”
She tightened her smile and tried to make it sincere as she looked up at Jack. “That’s the plan.”
“But you’d rather keep him.”
She supposed he didn’t have to be too perceptive to see that. “I would, but I already have four of my own, and that’s enough. He’ll bring a nice profit, and I am in the business of training, after all. I’ll just do my best to see that he goes to a good home.” She gave him a sly look. “I usually demand that the sale price includes a few months of lessons with me, so I can be sure the horse and owner are doing well together.”
“Good plan.”
They’d reached the large door at the back of the barn, and she stopped in the aisle beside the tack room. “Could you hold him while I get his saddle off?”
“No, you hold him.” Without asking, he undid the cinch and pulled off the heavy saddle and pad, carrying them into the tack room, along with her helmet. He came back with the halter and lead rope she’d left hanging near the door. “Are these his?”
“Yes, thanks.” Anyone who carried tack for her in this heat deserved another kiss, but tempting as the thought was, it was going to have to wait until she smelled fresher.
She led Jack into the nearby wash stall, an open, cement-floored area with a drain in the floor. The back wall was fitted with two faucets, hoses attached, and a rack between them for various shampoos and conditioners.
She looped Jack’s lead rope around a metal bar, adjusted the nozzle to a medium spray, then turned the hose on him, starting at his hooves and working upward. He stood still, even dipping his face into the spray she aimed at his chest. She laughed, letting him play, then used her hand as a squeegee as she hosed his body. Setting the hose aside, she reached for the shampoo and began lathering Jack’s neck and back.
Reese watched with absorption, then stepped into the stall with her. “Let me help.” He began hosing off suds as she continued down Jack’s body. “This is a nice setup,” he said. “I’ve never seen a shower for horses.”
“You’ll need one once you start using twenty or thirty horses a day for long trail rides.” Damn, she’d made him part of the resort again. “I mean, the resort will need it.” Not Reese; he wouldn’t be here, and she’d better remember it.
“Dad said you helped design the barn. I’m an architect in my other life, so I was curious.”
She shook her head. “Mike asked for my input, but I wouldn’t call that helping with the design. He’s a smart guy—consults the experts and listens to what they say.”
“And you’re an expert?”
“I guess I am.” She grinned.
“You have a horse shower at your place?”
She laughed. “No, but I have a hose. Your dad has a bit more money to play around with than I do.”
“Where do you live?”
“The other end of the valley, that flat plain between here and Tappit’s Peak.” She glanced at him over Jack’s back, a rush of pleasure zipping through her at his expectant look. “You’re welcome to come see it.”
“I’d like that. I’m free the rest of today, as it happens.”
Today? Damn, now she really needed a shower if she was taking him home with her. She finished running conditioner through Jack’s tail, then reached for her shirt front. “Don’t turn that hose off,” she told him, and began unbuttoning.
Reese lifted his eyebrows. “I hope you don’t expect me to turn around.”
“Actually, I expect you to help.” She stripped off the limp shirt, telling herself the modest sports bra was the exact same thing most women wore to exercise at the resort’s gym. Besides, there was no way she was risking getting close to Reese again in her current condition. Hanging her head, she pushed her hair forward to fall in a curtain around her face. “Hold that hose over my head so I can wash my hair.”
“My pleasure.”
She couldn’t see his face, but heard the humor in his voice. Cold water hit the back of her head, drenching her hair and trickling over her shoulders. She shivered with pleasure, and started lathering with Jack’s shampoo.
“This is a new experience for me,” Reese said. “Hosing down a horse and a horse trainer.”
“I take it the women in Boston don’t shower in horse stalls.”
He laughed. “Not the ones I know.”
“Well, sorry to say this is not a first for me.” She peeked at him around soapy strands of hair, but couldn’t tell from his bemused smile if he thought that made her a freak. “Barns aren’t known for their deluxe accommodations. Rinse, please.”
He moved the hose over the back of her head until it ran clean. She wrung out as much as she could, then added conditioner and finger-combed her hair back into place. It couldn’t possibly look good, but it wasn’t any limper than it had been, and smelled a good deal better.