EIGHTEEN
There was fun, and then there was fun.
Vivian had never had so much of it in her life, especially all concentrated in one place and time. Who knew riding a horse could be so exhilarating?
“I haven’t been on anything this fast since…since Andrew bought me my Porsche!” Hair whipping in the breeze, bodies bouncing and rubbing together intimately, she held onto Nash’s trim waist tightly, allowing her hands a sneak peek of what was very clearly a set of fine six-pack abs.
Nash laughed, the deep sound of it reverberating through his chest and back, the sweet sound making it to her ears despite the rhythmic gallop of hooves beneath them and the blur of wind rushing past them.
“She’s nowhere near as fast as that fancy little car of yours,” he shouted back.
He was right, she was sure, but it sure felt like it. Out in the open field, going at a steady clip, she couldn’t put an actual speed to it, but she felt as if someone had rolled down the top of a convertible, opened the engine on the Autobahn, and let loose.
In short, she felt absolutely amazing.
“I’ve never felt so alive! Is this how it always is for you?” If so, she would never drive a car again.
“The way it is for you right now? Only at the beginning,” he informed her, “but it’s still the best feeling in the world, every day of the week.”
Vivian cinched her arms around him tighter, wanting to prolong their time together, this moment. She was finally starting to see the appeal of a life in the country. It wasn’t just that it was slower paced or that the people were friendly or even that it was a totally new experience to absorb.
She felt as if this was where her life had finally started. The day that tire had ruptured and forced her onto the side of the road had been the push button triggering something wonderful. She hadn’t realized it then, but it felt as if she’d spent her whole life in a hazy dream world and she’d only now woken up.
In spite of all her doubts, being on the back of the horse with Nash, galloping around in the night under the light of the moon, was just what she needed.
It finally felt as if she fit somewhere. Not because of her clothes or the car she drove or the house she lived in or the connections she had, but because of who she was, the person inside—and the person she was becoming.
It was a feeling she didn’t want to end.
Nash pulled on the reins and made a clicking sound with his tongue, and Maxine slowed to a trot. A sense of fear and dread set in. If they stopped riding, would the bubble on such a perfect evening burst?
“Can we keep going?” Vivian asked, her voice small. “Just a little longer.”
Nash’s hand flatted over hers against his stomach. “As long as you want.”
Relieved, Vivian turned her head and rested her cheek against his warm back, imagining she could hear his heartbeat beneath her ear.
In reality, it was probably just the sound of the horse’s hooves impacting the dirt, but it didn’t hurt to pretend.
This was what it was supposed to be like, right? Falling for someone, taking refuge in their embrace, in their very presence? Carlene had been one lucky woman to have Nash’s heart that beat so fiercely in his strong chest. Vivian wondered if she knew how blessed she’d been—still was.
She didn’t even realize she’d dozed off until the horse stopped moving altogether and Nash’s fingers wrapped around hers, giving them a gentle squeeze.
“We’re here, sweetheart. Time to wake up.”
“Ughhh,” Vivian moaned. “Just five more minutes?”
Nash chuckled at her attempt at sounding like a whiny child. “Nope, ‘fraid not. Time to get up so you can go to bed.”
Forcing herself to pick her head up, Vivian waited for Nash to extricate himself from the saddle and hop down. He turned immediately and extended his arms to help her down.
“That saying never made any sense to me,” Vivian commented as she accepted his help and returned to earth.
It was strange being so low to the ground after being up so high for so long.
“Yep, but it’s true.” He flicked his gaze up toward the stars hanging above their heads. “It’s late.”
“And you need your beauty rest,” she said, nodding in understanding.
He smirked. “Not as much as you, darlin’.”
Vivian let her mouth drop open in feigned offense. “How rude!”
“Hey,” Nash said as he unbuckled the saddle, “you started it.”
She certainly had, and Vivian couldn’t help smiling. They were teasing one another, rather than arguing or throwing insults or the hint of one. “Yeah, well, keep it up, and I’ll tell Ms. Gretta on you.”
“Oh!” Nash jeered. “Bringin’ out the big guns, I see. You play dirty.”
Vivian’s mind nose-dived straight into the gutter. “You got that right, cowboy.”
Nash had been in the process of guiding Maxine toward the barn when he stopped cold and stared at her as if in shock. Shocked with herself, Vivian forced herself to remain strong under the weight of his penetrating stare, allowing her fears and insecurities to filter out through the hand she used to pet the horse’s flank.
Maxine, however, didn’t seem to appreciate being used as a buffer and snorted her disgust. Or maybe it was impatience. It’d been a while since she’d gotten one of those apples she seemed to like so much.
Shaking his head as if to clear it, Nash said, “I’m going to put her in her stable. When I’m done, you feel like joining me for a cup of tea?”
Putting her hands in her short’s pockets, Vivian rocked on her heels, feeling a touch shy. “Sure, that sounds nice.”
His grin was wide. “Stay here. I’ll be but a minute.”
Vivian didn’t dare move an inch.
***
When Nash had suggested tea, Vivian just assumed he would be serving it hot and in a mug. Not a tall, clear glass filled with iced sweet tea.
“So…you don’t have Earl Grey either?”
“I don’t even know what that is,” Nash said as he poured them both another cup. They were sitting in wicker rockers, the white paint faded and peeling in places, on his front porch. He’d dragged them out from the parlor inside, sighting he usually kept them there now because he didn’t want the weather to beat them to death. Now that he had company over, he had an excuse to bring them out.
Vivian felt a touch special.
“What is your preoccupation with tea?” Nash asked, genuinely curious.
“Nothing. I just assumed you meant hot tea, not iced.”
“It’s summer. Why in Hades would I serve it hot? Hell, ‘round here we have iced tea even on the coldest winters.”
“In the winter, too?” Vivian asked, shocked. The idea of being surrounded by snow and below zero temps with a cup of ice cold anything in her hand made goose bumps erupt down her arms.
“Vivian, sweetheart,” Nash condescended, “sweet tea is the nectar of the Southern gods. One simply does not drink anything else.”
A laugh bubbled past her lips as Vivian started back at him. “My god, you are really serious.”
“As a heart attack.”
She shook her head. “Well, at least it’s good tea.”
“Have you become a believer? Have I swayed you to our way of thinking?”
“I like it cold, but no one will ever take my hot tea away from me unless they pry it from my cold, dead fingers.”
“Morbid.” Setting his half-empty glass on the floorboard beside his rocker, Nash looked out over the dark expanse of yard before them. Rather, what they could see of it beyond the half-moon swath of light cast by the porch light. Vivian had no idea, so far from the city lights, what pitch-black truly meant, until she arrived in the country.
If she stepped off the porch, she doubted she’d be able to see her own hand in front of her face.
Which reminded her…
“Well, if it wasn’t late before, it sure is now.” She scooted to the edge of her chair and waited to see if Nash would pick up her meaning.
“Yep, it sure is. Well, be careful walkin’ home.” He stood and stretched those long arms to the ceiling and yawned.
Dismayed, Vivian stared at him in disbelief. “You’re just going to let me walk off into the night? I could get lost out there! No, scratch that. I would get lost out there. And probably eaten by a bear.”
Laughing in earnest, Nash said, “You silly city girl, there aren’t any bears out here to worry about.”
Vivian felt some of her fear wane.
“It’s the coyotes that’ll tear ya apart.”
Her eyes widened, and her eyebrows hit her hairline. “And you’re just going to send me out there to fend for myself? Some gentleman you are, Nash MacArthur!”
“Aw, come on now,” he said, trying to soothe her even as his eyes danced with mirth. Reaching down, he took both of her hands in his and lifted her to her feet. “You know I wouldn’t do such a thing.”
“Why, ‘cause your momma raised you better?” she mocked.
“Yes, as a matter of fact, she did.”
Vivian instantly felt like an ass. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He tucked a strand of hair that’d escaped her clip behind her ear. “Just get your rear in the truck, and I’ll see ya safely home.”
Vivian debated his sincerity for a nanosecond and then nodded. “All right. But take it slow. I don’t want to end up in a ditch.”
It was just so dark!
“I’ll go slow,” he said, and something in his voice captured her attention. “But not too slow.”
Unsure if he was flirting with her or not, Vivian took a step toward the stairs, only to be stopped by his rough voice close to her ear. “You’re in good hands, Vivian. Don’t ever doubt that.”
Biting her lip, she glanced back over her shoulder and caught his eye before he turned away to retrieve his car keys from inside. But it only took that fraction of a second to see the desire burning in them, a flame that called to the fire raging inside of her, the heat of it growing every day, threatening to consume her if something wasn’t done about it.
Soon.
But that night wasn’t tonight.
Vivian turned and descended the steps into the dark and the direction she knew the truck to be parked, all the while trying to put meaning to the words he’d spoken.
Was Nash telling her what she thought he was?
Did he intend for there to be more between them, or was he just trying to be a good friend?