Page 17

Chapter 17

Moxie

T he buzzer to my apartment sounds, and I check myself in the mirror one last time before darting to answer it.

“I’ll be down in just a sec!”

I snag my keys off the counter and run to meet him. The weather is finally cooperating, and after the chaos of debuting our fake relationship to the moms at yoga, I want this date more than I want to admit. I have no idea what I'm in for, only that it’s outdoors.

“I see you listened to my clothing recommendation. Good call on the jeans. You look fantastic.”

"Are you going to tell me what we’re doing and why I need jeans?”

“They are generally the recommended attire, but nope.” He tips his cowboy hat because of course he’s wearing a cowboy hat. Something about the combination of the cap tip and the accompanying smile and wink makes my knees nearly buckle. Maybe we should stay here…

“You ready?” he asks.

Every time I’m with him, he throws me off balance. I never spend this much time with a man without winding up in the bedroom, and no matter how much I tell my body to chill, it wants him. But sex doesn’t equate to feelings, so maybe today is the day I stop fighting it. Date first, but that’s one cowboy I have every intention of riding before the night is through.

“You really aren't going to tell me?” I ask as we walk out to his truck.

“And ruin the surprise?” Wyatt holds his hand to his chest in apparent shock that I would even consider it.

I guess I can roll with that.

“Just be glad I didn’t make you wear a blindfold for the drive there.”

“What if I’m into that?” I ask.

Wyatt swerves and nearly jumps the curb, scaring some pedestrians. He’s so easy to rile up.

“You’re a hazard with this thing. Are you sure you don’t want me to drive?” I tease.

He laughs, having regained control. “What do you expect when you say things like that?”

“For you to file it in the bank for future reference,” I say, smooth as silk.

Wyatt only shakes his head, eyebrows raised.

Between the clue with the jeans and the fact that we’re heading toward the mountains, I’m giddy but not surprised when we pull up to a stable. I’ve been living here for ten years and have never ridden a horse.

My hand brushes Wyatt, and I'm not sure who made it happen, but the next thing I know we’re walking hand in hand, sending a flutter to my stomach. These small casual gestures are a new unexplored territory for me, and yet with him they feel natural. I could take my hand away, and I’m confident he’d be gentlemanly enough not to let it phase him, but why bother? Even though there’s no one around to see, holding hands always feels like a declaration. Mine. I’ve always kept people at such a distance, so for once it feels nice to be claimed.

We enter a large red barn where the scent of sawdust and a tinge of ammonia fill the air. Used to the busy noises of the city, I expected the barn to be quiet, but it’s filled with its own kind of peaceful noise. Tails swish and flies buzz, mixing with the occasional stamp of a horse’s foot or chewing sound.

The stable consists of ten stalls. Each has a bed of straw on the ground, a water bucket, and some even have toys in them. One of the gray horses nibbles on a hanging apple snack.

“We have an arrangement with them for our tours,” Wyatt says as a woman with her gray hair pulled into a loose braid approaches us.

“Hello.” She smiles at Wyatt before turning to me. “You must be Moxie. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Luna.”

“Nice to meet you.” I extend my hand to shake hers. “Thank you for having us here.”

“Of course. Wyatt always takes good care of my babies.” She runs a gentle hand down a horse’s neck, then directs her attention back to Wyatt. “Sonny hasn’t been eating well, so I'm going to get him checked out. Otherwise feel free to take out whomever you’d like.”

“You’re the best, Luna,” he says, and she wanders out of the barn with a bucket in-hand.

“This is Storm,” he says. “I usually ride him. Now tell me the truth this time. Have you ever been riding before?”

“Do those ponies that go around in a circle count?” I ask.

“No, I don’t think so.” Wyatt laughs. “Well, at least we can steer clear of water so we don’t have to worry about you getting swept downstream this time.”

“I’ll fall off and get trampled by a giant beast instead.” I flash him a bright grin and say it with as much sarcastic pep as I can muster.

“That’s the spirit!” Wyatt says. “Okay, so we’ll go with Molasses. She’s nice and low-key and will be an easy ride.”

After looking ridiculous on the rafting trip, the last thing I want is to try to show off and get myself in over my head again, but Molasses looks like she’s ready to retire and enjoy her remaining days grazing in the sun. I’m not sure she’s even moved since we’ve come in here. I stare at her, still as a statue. I finally catch her shifting a fraction of an inch. If I’d blinked, I would have missed it.

“She’s so slow her name is literally Molasses. Come on, I don’t want the wildest one, but surely there’s got to be a middle ground,” I say.

“All right, how about Porcupine?” he asks.

I wince. “Depends on if she has quills.”

“I think Luna’s niece named that one and thought it was funny.”

“Porcupine it is,” I say.

Luna returns to the barn. “Did you figure out who you’re taking out?”

“We’re going with Storm and Porcupine,” he says.

“Good choices. I’ll help you saddle them up.”

Luna works on saddling Storm.

“Do you want to do it with me?” Wyatt asks as we approach Porcupine.

“Sure,” I say with more confidence than I feel. I stick close to his side, cautiously approaching her.

“First, let’s just take a minute to let her get to know you.”

“Hey, girl. I’m Moxie. Nice to meet you.” I keep my voice soothing. I pet her smooth neck, and then he shows me how to carefully brush her. Once Porcupine and I are more comfortable with each other, we put the pad high on her back and slide it back to ensure the hair underneath lays flat.

“Perfect,” he says, then guides me through the rest of the process until both horses are ready to go. I hang on his every word. Competence is so sexy. Before we climb up, he adds a small pack from his car to a saddlebag.

“A little surprise for later, and don’t even try to weasel it out of me, because I’m not telling you.”

“But Wyatt,” I lean over, squeezing my arms together in just the right way for optimal cleavage.

“I won’t be tempted by your seductions.” Wyatt turns away so he can’t even accidentally look at me. “I suggest you get on your horse and try not to fall off or you might never find out what the surprise is.”

Porcupine is a beautiful chestnut with kind, calm eyes. At least, that’s what I hope I see in them. Storm is shiny and black; he exemplifies speed. He looks like he just needs Wyatt to put on some brightly-colored jockey pants and goggles and he’ll take off.

“One foot in the stirrup, hand on the horn, then stand up on that leg and swing the other over.”

I step up next to Porcupine and follow his instructions. My stomach jumps as I prepare to swing myself onto her back, but I suck in a breath and go for it.

“Ha!” I laugh. “I did it! Did you see that?”

Wyatt laughs too. “Great job.”

He talks me through some last-minute steering basics and walks alongside us. I wobble a bit and take a minute to stop tilting from side to side with each step. This isn’t so bad. I can do this without making a fool of myself. We complete our loop without me losing my balance, so Wyatt mounts Storm and we’re off.

Beneath me, this wondrous creature moves us forward, clip-clopping on the dirt behind Storm and Wyatt. I duck a branch as we move up a narrow path between trees before the forest gives way to open terrain. The path widens so we can ride side by side. A rippled field of patchy grass with sporadic trees extends out on either side. Before us, the mountain peaks are visible over the woods.

With each stride, my comfort and confidence grow. I’m getting the hang of it and guide Porcupine around turns, stops, and starts with ease.I smile, enjoying the sway of the horse through the wildflowers. I catch Wyatt watching me.

“What?” I ask.

He shakes his head and blinks. “What do you mean?”

I laugh. “You were staring.”

“Right. Sorry. You look like you’re having fun. You want to try going a little faster?”

Do I want to get bucked off my horse? No, but this is what I’ve been craving: bold, yet peaceful. A gust of wind whips across the field, brushing across my face and tugging the flowers so that they bend like they’re trying to Limbo. I briefly close my eyes and turn my face toward the sun, letting its rays warm my skin. In a matter of ten minutes, I’m already loving every second of this, and I can’t believe I’ve missed out on experiencing this all these years. Instead, I’ve spent my time wrangling drunks at the blackjack table and riding a bunch of one-night stands. I take a deep breath of crisp, pine-scented air and feel my grin widening.

“Hell yeah, I do.” I sit up a little straighter and lightly squeeze my calves like Wyatt instructed, and she immediately responds, lengthening her stride and picking up the pace. The wind whips the strands of my short hair, and I'm flooded with euphoria. I press a little more and Porcupine takes off. My heart rate jumps, thudding away in my chest and matching the thunderous beat of her hooves. I grip the horn so tight it’s a wonder it doesn’t crumble to dust in my hands. The crash of each hoof resounds in my ears, and it’s the only thing I hear. I’m alive.

“Woohoo!” I yell.

Alongside me, Storm snorts, and Wyatt hollers too. We shout at nothing, and our own exclamations echo back at us, reverberating off the mountain cliffs that frame this sanctuary.

The two horses near each other, and as if rising to the challenge, Porcupine’s strides quicken. I yelp in surprise before adjusting my grip on the reigns and laughing at the adrenaline rush.

Eventually the path narrows, and we slow the horses. A small stream trickles alongside the trail.

“Let’s stop and let them have a drink.” Wyatt hops off Storm. Bowlegged, he saunters over and offers me his hand.

“I could use a drink, too.” I take his hand, the usual static electricity of his nearness melding with my waning adrenaline and sending flutters through my body.

“I can help with that.” He unlatches his saddle bag and retrieves a four-pack of margaritas.

I raise my eyebrows in surprise, and he pulls out two water bottles next.

“Gotta stay hydrated, too.”

“You thought of everything.”

Wyatt twists the cap off my margarita, handing it to me with a smile. “You were awesome. I’d never have known you hadn’t ridden before if I hadn’t seen you back at the stable. You’re a natural.”

“I was pretty good, wasn’t I?” It doesn’t feel like a time for modesty. It’s never been one of my strengths. I’m proud of the way I rode, and I’m owning that shit.

Wyatt ties the horses to a tree and offers me his hand. I don’t want to lead him on, but sometimes my body acts before my thoughts can catch up. Soon we’re holding hands and walking through the small patch of forest we’ve stopped in. It feels good.

“Close your eyes,” he says.

My muscles tense as I start to panic. Margaritas, a beautiful setting, and closed eyes. This is starting to feel all too much like the kind of surprise I want nothing to do with.I’ve taken this too far, and this is becoming real, and we’re only going to let each other down.

Wyatt laughs at my expression. “Did a bear walk up behind me or something?”

“No, I. Wyatt—”

“Hey, relax. No big deal. Don’t close your eyes, then, but you’re totally missing out on the surprise. Trust me, it’s the best damn view you’ve ever seen.”

He tugs at my hand, pulling me forward. I follow without argument, but my feet are leaden underneath me and my throat feels tight. I like him too much for this to be ruined by pushing for a commitment that I can’t agree to right now.

We step free of the trees and I gasp. Even without the big, eye-opening reveal, the scenery is stunning. We’re in an open valley of brilliant purple and yellow blossoms amid tall grasses that extend far and wide before abruptly giving way to the rocky faces of the distant mountaintops dusted in snow.

“Oh,” I breathe.

“Pretty great, huh?”

I squeeze his hand and find myself leaning on him, thrown completely off balance despite the worry still festering inside me. I take a moment to feel the beauty around me. It’s a full-body experience with the sweet smell of the flowers and pine and the soft dirt beneath my feet. I turn around to soak in the dazzling sun.

“It’s breathtaking.” I release his hand to walk through my own path and spin around, Julie Andrews style, minus the singing. Wyatt stays in place, watching me with his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans and his hat pulled low. He’s clearly relishing watching me, and even with fear that he’ll push me for commitment, I allow myself to soak in his appreciation. I throw my arms up and spin again because it’s what the environment is tempting me to do. All the while, I feel his eyes blazing a trail over my body.

He steps forward, and my heart skips a beat. Shit. This is the moment he’s going to do it. He’s going to ask me for something I can’t give and ruin everything. Then he throws his arms up the same way I had and prances around.

“Am I doing this right?” he asks. My whole body shivers in relief, and my heart swells with gratitude that he’s joined me in my ridiculousness without expecting anything more.

“You need a little more skip in your step.” I demonstrate.

Our dancing through the field eventually circles in, and we fall into each other’s arms and collapse onto the grass. I lay my head on his stomach and watch the clouds, a little amazed at how much I can enjoy a moment.

We laugh as we search for shapes in the clouds, enjoying each other’s company as they change from rhinos to ships and even angels above. Never before have I felt so in tune with another person. I keep expecting the inevitable to happen, but it doesn’t.

Wyatt twists his fingers through my hair. “Tell me about your dreams, Moxie.”

I huff out a short laugh. “Going right for the hard-hitting stuff, huh?”

“You bet,” he says.

We relax into a quiet moment, staring at a pillowy cloud drifting by. I’ve never been asked this by a man before, but if I had, I’m sure my answer would have been snarky. Whatever is growing between us, I don’t want to deflect this time.

“I don’t know,” I whisper, and I shrink against him, feeling vulnerable.

“You don’t know what your dreams are?” he asks, incredulous.

I roll, resting my chin on his chest, and meeting his eyes. “I don’t. Is that incredibly pathetic?”

He stares into my eyes, considering. “Not pathetic. A little sad, maybe.” He runs a gentle hand down my back.

“Following dreams was not a mantra strongly encouraged in my house growing up.”

“Because your parents had theirs stolen from them,” he says, remembering our previous conversation.

I nod. “It’s not that they didn’t encourage me. They still cheered on my wins when I got a good grade or got a prize in art for a painting I did, but if it required risk? Forget about it.” I don’t want his pity. What’s done is done. I knew it was what made it hard for me to get close to people, but I guess I hadn’t considered that it had held me back in other ways too. What do I want?

“I’m sorry. I know exactly what that’s like. Sometimes I still go up to the high school baseball field when it’s empty and sit on the bleachers to remember what it was like, and I always end up wishing I could have that back. But then Noah and I dreamt up Shred and Tread. Your life isn’t over. I hope you can figure out your dream too,” he says.

I run my hand over the grass, not ready to take that conversation any deeper for today. I sit up and lean on one hand, my legs stretched out beside me. Wyatt pulls himself up, too, our faces mere inches apart.

He holds up a crown of purple flowers he’s been fiddling with. “My lady,” he says dramatically, and I duck to let him place the flowers on my head. I smile up at him, peering flirtatiously through my lashes. “The purple looks good against the blue in your hair,” he says.

“Thanks,” I whisper. In this pure moment, I finally let the last of my fears dissolve. This is Wyatt, the impulsive adventurer. This is safe, and I’m done holding back. Riding the adrenaline high from before and the inspiring romantic scene around us, I push for what I've been longing for since I met him.

“Kiss me,” I say. Bold, because it’s all I know how to be.

Wyatt straightens in surprise. He blinks, and I think I catch a faint flicker of hesitation. Maybe I imagined it, though, because the next thing I know, his hand comes up to my face. His thumb gently brushes across my jaw and his eyes devour my mouth before his lips even get close.

“You’re so beautiful. I could kiss you all day.” His words come out in a husky whisper as he moves in closer. I grab a fistful of his shirt and tug him closer as his gentle lips kiss mine. I can taste the faint tang of margarita. His hand finds its way to my back and presses into me, pulling me gently but firmly against him. I arch my back and tilt my head, deepening the kiss. He shifts over me, and I fall back onto the grass.

The heat of passion curls through me like wisps of smoke, grazing each of my nerve endings and setting them alight as they pass. Tendrils of plants tickle the heightened senses in my arms, and I gasp. My curves press against his hard muscles. Our kisses explore each other like it’s newly discovered territory. A taste of him isn’t enough. I crave more. I run my fingers through his wavy curls and down his strong back. He’s as gorgeous as the field we lay in. I’m about to reach down to traverse more of him when an insistent braying interrupts. I laugh against his lips.

“I think the horses are getting bored,” I say.

“Too bad,” he says. I laugh again but give him a gentle shove, and he groans before rolling off me. “All right, fine,” he sighs.

We mount up, and ride side by side. When we reach the narrowed part of the path, Wyatt and Storm take the lead, their cowboy-hatted, grayish silhouette outlined against the sun as it begins to sink on the horizon. My heart flutters, and free of his glance, my fingertips trace the edges of my blissfully swollen lips.I wasn’t ready for that to stop, and there’s no way I’m letting our day end there.