Page 88
He pushes his nose against my hand, searching for treats.
"Not today, buddy. Sorry."
"It's just temporary," I whisper, pressing my forehead against his. His breath is warm and sweet-smelling. "Just until I'm back on my feet."
But I know it's more than that. Everything is changing, shifting beneath my feet like sand. The symphony position, the pregnancy, Charlie becoming more involved in my life than I ever expected—it's all happening so fast.
Oliver nickers softly, nudging my shoulder with his nose. It's as if he's reassuring me that we'll figure it out together.
"You're right," I say, scratching his favorite spot between his ears. "Everything is going to work out just fine."
I'm just about to grab Oliver's saddle pad when I spot a handsome man striding down the barn aisle.
"Charlie?" I call out. "Oh my gosh! What are you doing here?"
He navigates around a wheelbarrow parked in the aisle and sidesteps a pile of dirty shavings with careful precision.
"Surprise," he says, reaching me and dropping a quick kiss on my lips. "I thought I'd come see what you and Oliver are up to."
I stare at him, genuinely confused. "But your investors' meeting?—"
"I rescheduled it." He shrugs like it's nothing, though we both know it isn't. Charlie doesn't reschedule business meetings, especially not with investors. "Turns out they were all free tomorrow morning instead."
"You rescheduled a meeting to come watch me ride?" The skepticism in my voice makes his smile widen.
"I missed you," he says simply, giving me a tight hug and another kiss. He peers over my shoulder at Oliver who is watching us with pricked ears. "Hey there, big guy."
Oliver stretches his neck, nostrils flaring as he investigates Charlie’s sleeve. Charlie reaches out and gives him a pat on the neck. He then digs into his pocket and pulls out a sugar cube.
“Ooh, he’s going to love you for that. I forgot his treats today.”
Charlie laughs while he gives Oliver the sugar. “Bringing treats is Horse Visiting 101. Learned that I long time ago. Jane had a horse when she was younger that always tried to bite me unless I brought treats.”
"I’d say you’re his favorite person right now," I say. "I'm just getting ready to tack up."
"Can I help?" he asks, rolling up his sleeves with determined purpose. The sight of those forearms—tan against the crisp white of his shirt—momentarily distracts me.
"I’d love that," I say when I regain my composure.
I throw the saddle pad over his wide back. "And now the saddle," I say, turning toward the tack room.
"Let me get that. You shouldn’t be lifting heavy things." His expression turns serious.
"It's fine, I can?—"
"Tess." His voice has a certain firmness to it, a tone that probably makes his employees snap to attention. On me, it just makes me raise an eyebrow. He softens immediately. "Please. Let me do this for you."
I relent, mainly because the genuine concern in his eyes is hard to resist. "It's the Stubben right next to the door."
Charlie returns a minute later, holding my saddle as if he’s handling a newborn. "This thing is heavier than it looks," he admits.
"And that's why women in this sport have great arms," I quip.
He places the saddle on Oliver’s back and then begins to tighten the girth.
"Not too tight yet," I say. "We'll tighten it more before I get on. Otherwise, Mr. Opinionated here gets pissed off."
After I've put on Oliver's bridle, Charlie helps me tighten the girth properly and holds Oliver while I mount. The leather creaks as I settle into the saddle, finding my balance.
"Not today, buddy. Sorry."
"It's just temporary," I whisper, pressing my forehead against his. His breath is warm and sweet-smelling. "Just until I'm back on my feet."
But I know it's more than that. Everything is changing, shifting beneath my feet like sand. The symphony position, the pregnancy, Charlie becoming more involved in my life than I ever expected—it's all happening so fast.
Oliver nickers softly, nudging my shoulder with his nose. It's as if he's reassuring me that we'll figure it out together.
"You're right," I say, scratching his favorite spot between his ears. "Everything is going to work out just fine."
I'm just about to grab Oliver's saddle pad when I spot a handsome man striding down the barn aisle.
"Charlie?" I call out. "Oh my gosh! What are you doing here?"
He navigates around a wheelbarrow parked in the aisle and sidesteps a pile of dirty shavings with careful precision.
"Surprise," he says, reaching me and dropping a quick kiss on my lips. "I thought I'd come see what you and Oliver are up to."
I stare at him, genuinely confused. "But your investors' meeting?—"
"I rescheduled it." He shrugs like it's nothing, though we both know it isn't. Charlie doesn't reschedule business meetings, especially not with investors. "Turns out they were all free tomorrow morning instead."
"You rescheduled a meeting to come watch me ride?" The skepticism in my voice makes his smile widen.
"I missed you," he says simply, giving me a tight hug and another kiss. He peers over my shoulder at Oliver who is watching us with pricked ears. "Hey there, big guy."
Oliver stretches his neck, nostrils flaring as he investigates Charlie’s sleeve. Charlie reaches out and gives him a pat on the neck. He then digs into his pocket and pulls out a sugar cube.
“Ooh, he’s going to love you for that. I forgot his treats today.”
Charlie laughs while he gives Oliver the sugar. “Bringing treats is Horse Visiting 101. Learned that I long time ago. Jane had a horse when she was younger that always tried to bite me unless I brought treats.”
"I’d say you’re his favorite person right now," I say. "I'm just getting ready to tack up."
"Can I help?" he asks, rolling up his sleeves with determined purpose. The sight of those forearms—tan against the crisp white of his shirt—momentarily distracts me.
"I’d love that," I say when I regain my composure.
I throw the saddle pad over his wide back. "And now the saddle," I say, turning toward the tack room.
"Let me get that. You shouldn’t be lifting heavy things." His expression turns serious.
"It's fine, I can?—"
"Tess." His voice has a certain firmness to it, a tone that probably makes his employees snap to attention. On me, it just makes me raise an eyebrow. He softens immediately. "Please. Let me do this for you."
I relent, mainly because the genuine concern in his eyes is hard to resist. "It's the Stubben right next to the door."
Charlie returns a minute later, holding my saddle as if he’s handling a newborn. "This thing is heavier than it looks," he admits.
"And that's why women in this sport have great arms," I quip.
He places the saddle on Oliver’s back and then begins to tighten the girth.
"Not too tight yet," I say. "We'll tighten it more before I get on. Otherwise, Mr. Opinionated here gets pissed off."
After I've put on Oliver's bridle, Charlie helps me tighten the girth properly and holds Oliver while I mount. The leather creaks as I settle into the saddle, finding my balance.
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