Page 15 of Ropers Can’t Tie Knots (Kissing Ridge Cowboys #3)
We ride in silence for a few minutes, and I feel Gabe’s gaze on me. I turn to find him watching me. “What happened to have you raised by your grandparents? Can I ask you that? Is that part of your noise?”
With a long sigh, I remove my hat and wipe my forearm across my forehead while I choose my words.
“My parents died in a car accident on their way home from a Christmas party one night. I was sleeping over here that night as I often did, and there was a knock on the door after midnight. I should have been asleep, but my grandmother’s cries woke me.
They both died at the scene. I was only six. ”
“Hunter… ”
Gabe wants to rush to console me. I know he does. Everyone does, and in some way, that makes it easier to tell this story on horseback. I can keep my distance and still share my shitty story.
“My dad and my grandfather often argued. Dad was leaving the ranch to be with my mom, you see. My mom was wicked smart and had a scholarship to a big university. My dad was the captain of the local hockey team, with scouts watching him. They could have been anything they wanted, but they became parents to me instead.”
“Teenage pregnancy?” Gabe whispers.
“Yep. So they gave it all up to have me. My dad was never drafted, anyway, and I think my grandfather liked to blame that on me. ‘ You can’t be a great hockey player when you’re being a dad to a newborn .
’” Lord knows I heard the line of how disappointed he was about that far too often.
“But I think my grandfather saw me as the reason his son died instead of a way his son could live on. He wanted his son and instead got me. A gay grandson who didn’t live up to anything he wanted from his son. ”
Gabe says nothing right away, and I appreciate that.
Most people only know my parents died, and my grandparents kept me because they were all I had.
They don’t know the words spoken inside the house, and they sure as hell don’t know how much I struggled between winning my grandfather’s love and doing things I enjoyed.
Or even just discovering who I was. Not just sexually, but on a much deeper level. I wanted to please him, honour my father and be a boy living the dream on a ranch. But nothing ever satisfied him .
We arrive at a gate on the fence in our far field, and I bring Mack to a stop. Dixie automatically waits because she knows where we’re going and what to do. After dismounting and opening the gate, Gabe rides Dixie through, and I lead Mack before closing the gate behind us.
“This is crown land now. I keep a gate so I can ride here when I want, but also to keep others out and signal that it’s private property.” Swinging back up onto Mack, I feel Gabe’s soft gaze on me, so I turn to him before moving the horses forward.
“I’ve never been on a horse before, or spent much time in the outdoors, Hunter. I have noise to deal with too, and I just want to say thank you for showing me this.”
I’m not used to letting people in like this. Jackson is probably the one who has come the closest. Nobody gets to visit my sanctuary, and I’ve led Gabe here almost without a second thought. It should bother me, but I feel a connection I haven’t felt in years. Like he’s a kindred spirit.
“You’re welcome.” We ride along, side by side, in the open meadow behind the ranch boundaries. Dixie has been here countless times and easily takes Gabe along the smoother path, like she’s aware he’s a greenhorn but also needs to protect him.
Since Mack needs more training with commands, I part a little farther away from Gabe and Dixie and practice working with Mack on commands.
Stopping and listening, and the subtle tug on the reins to turn her head and focus.
Mack is from the same breeding line as Dixie, sharing a common father but years apart, so I’m not surprised Mack takes to the new commands as well as Dixie ever did .
Finally, we reach the creek that cuts through the meadow, and Dixie stops at the edge.
“Thank god your horse is on autopilot. I wasn’t sure if she’d listen to me if I yelled stop if she got too close to the water.” Gabe laughs with a hint of nerves, and I dismount from Mack.
Tapping his leg again, I motion for him to dismount. “Just do it backwards to get down. Same way you got on.”
Gabe does, and when his feet are firmly on the ground, he breathes out in relief.
“Seriously, Hunter. If she went into the water, I might have had a panic attack.” He stretches his back and shakes out his legs with a groan.
“Lord…how long does it take to get used to being in a saddle like that? I do yoga, but this is intense.”
I chuckle as he massages his ass. The newbies are always a little fun. Gabe is no exception, but there’s something extra I love about this. Maybe it’s him on my horse, or the fact he bought boots without my telling him to. Whatever it is, it’s moving into dangerous territory for my heart.
“It can take a while. You’re okay, though?”
Gabe nods and steps close to me with a hooded gaze. He takes one of my hands and plants it squarely on one ass cheek. “I’d be better if someone else wanted to massage me. A capable hand to take the tightness away.”
Jesus.
My breath catches and my brain moves my other hand to his ass, hauling him close to my body. “You’re a dangerous man, counsellor.” He moans softly when I squeeze his ass.
“I wouldn’t hurt a fly,” he whispers.
No, I doubt he would, but he could hurt me and probably doesn’t even know it .
His hands creep up to my chest, and the heat of his palms presses into my skin through my shirt. “It’s not the time for this, Gabe.” My fingers flex on his ass, completely disagreeing with my statement.
“I’m going to go with it's only because we’re outside with horses and not something else. Don’t shoot me down again, cowboy. My ego might not recover.” Gabe’s voice wavers, but his gaze doesn’t.
Despite the swirl of mixed emotions, my voice remains firm as I squeeze his ass one last time before gripping his chin firmly. His pretty lips part, and I resist running a thumb across them. “I’m not shooting you down. You do things to me, Gabe, and I need to wrap my head around what it means.”
“I have time.” Gabe grips my wrist and pulls my hand from his chin. He feathers a kiss on my wrist that makes my knees quake. “I’ll wait for you.”
Then he drops my wrist and spins away so quickly I’m left rooted to the spot while I watch his broad back retreat to Dixie.
Wait for me? I’m not sure what he means, but I hope I can figure it out.