Rebecca
“You may want to change,” Killian says, and I furrow my brow.
Doesn’t he like my dress? It confirms how right I am to underline the arrangement being business only. A domineering relationship is the last thing I want to tumble into after just extracting myself from one of those.
“Uh...” I start...then stop.
What’s the point?
“Not that what you’re wearing isn’t very aesthetically pleasing,” he continues as if he’s able to read my thoughts. “But a dress isn’t really suitable horse-riding attire.”
That’s right. I’ve been so lost in thought recently I’d almost forgotten all about that horse of his.
Ida.
Like a small child, I find myself clapping my hands together. Gone are those pesky nerves that haunted me all the way over to his house.
Instead, I feel...
Fuck, I’m actually elated.
Yes.
Maybe, after a lifetime around nothing but cars and freeways, I’m discovering that I’m actually a horse person.
Or maybe a ride on a horse is just what I need now.
“Give me five minutes,” I blurt out and practically run back to my own cottage.
I know I can easily take longer than five minutes if I wanted to. The way Killian looks this morning, he’ll take at least an hour before he’s up to any serious outing.
But I only need five minutes. Quick as a flash, I grab my jeans and a top.
As soon as I’m changed, I dart back to Killian’s.
There’s no sight of him outside, and I figure he must be taking a shower.
I don’t get how he can consume those copious amounts of alcohol and get any work done. If I drank the way he does for even one evening, I probably wouldn’t surface for a week.
Briefly, I hover around the front of his cottage. Am I going to have to knock or something?
Or did I just get an even better idea?
I duck around the side of the building and find Ida standing gracefully in her stable. The majestic four-legged beast has her head down, but the minute she hears my footsteps approaching, she pops through the open stable door.
“Hello, my girl.” I rub my hand over her soft nose. Whiskers tickle my hand, and before I know what’s happening, I can feel her soft muzzle on my cheek.
I laugh with abandon.
“That tickles.” I scratch under her chin.
There’s something about this horse that makes me feel completely at ease.
Her eyes bore into me. It’s as if she can see right into my soul.
“Hey, stop that.” Killian’s voice interrupts my special time with Ida.
The horse pays no attention to Killian. She rests her head on my shoulder, next to my cheek.
Ida’s soft, warm breath on my cheek simply leaves me spellbound.
“Stop smoochin’ up to my girl.” Killian strides over, reaching for Ida’s halter.
I try and ignore Killian saying things like my girl and stand aside. Despite my best efforts, his words weirdly leave me breathless, with my heart fluttering.
Which one of us is he talking to, anyway?
As Killian walks Ida past me, I realize just how big she is.
“And don’t you give me that look. You’re always lecturing me.”
Laughing, I follow the two outside. I watch as Killian expertly brushes the horse before putting the saddle on her back and the bridle over her head.
She’s a willing participant. I almost get the sense she’s enjoying herself.
At one point, she nips at Killian. And when he growls in protest, she lifts her head and pulls her top lip up into a funny curl, like she’s laughing at her own joke.
“Ready?” Killian turns to me, and I nod.
I almost shake with excitement to sit atop this magnificent creature again. This time, the conditions are much better than the other night. There’s no rain—just brilliant sunshine.
Once we’re both properly mounted, Killian steers Ida out of his yard and down the road.
There are no cars around, and I let my eyes wander over the landscape. It’s so green here—greener than any green I’ve seen anywhere else in the world. The green is so intense it reminds me of those super green tropical frogs—the type you see on the nature shows they always have playing at the oolong tea place.
The clip-clop Ida makes on the road leaves me feeling nostalgic for a time I never experienced.
In the old days, this is how people traveled everywhere, unless they were walking themselves. What a gentler world we’d live in now if this were our only mode of transport, along with our own two feet.
Sometimes progress seems highly overrated.
It doesn’t take long for Killian to find a little dirt track and steer off the main road. Rolling green hills stretch out in front of me, as far as the eye can see. It’s so breathtakingly beautiful my eyes are starting to get misty.
“Like it?” Killian asks behind me, and I can only nod.
Up in the distance, I can see a grove of trees and a field of heather. I’ve read a lot about the Irish landscape with its heather. And now that I’m here, I can clearly see that the most descriptive guidebook in the world simply couldn’t do it justice.
I don’t know for how long we ride atop Ida, but eventually Killian tells the horse to stop near some trees.
He jumps off easily and raises his arms to help me down.
His hands grab my waist, and I fly through the air. He holds me a little longer than necessary.
A warm tingling spreads from my chest, and my skin feels flushed for a brief, strange moment.
When he puts me down, I almost feel empty.
I must be totally yearning for more of his touch, right?
I’m barely able to hold in a laugh at that silly bit of Harlequin novel prose my mind just invented.
It must be the scenery.
After taking in the lush, verdant landscape for a few seconds, maybe, I notice Killian has a picnic blanket spread out on the grass, and he’s gesturing for me to sit down.
For the first time, I notice his large backpack.
Wow.
Maybe he isn’t suffering from as big a hangover as I’m assuming. This was quite a production for him to get together in the few minutes I was getting ready, assuming he didn’t have this all ready to go before that.
Maybe he has a hobby of packing elaborate picnics after staggering home from the pub.
“What about her?” I motion to Ida.
Killian laughs. “She won’t go anywhere. No such luck.”
Ida must take issue with the statement, because she decides at that moment to turn around and walk off.
“We all know you’re just being a drama queen,” calls Killian, but the horse just keeps on walking.
Hell, I’m about to jump up to go after her, but Killian shoots me an amused look, which tells me there’s no reason to worry.
“Trust me.” He grins. “She won’t go far.”
His words hit a raw nerve.
Trust—it’s such a small word, but such a powerful one.
Trust.
It seems like I should’ve learned my lesson about that concept by now.
“Come on, Rebecca.” His fingers trace an invisible line in the back of my neck. I shiver a bit. “You must try one of these.”
Killian holds out a dark-purple grape.
It looks fucking delicious, so I grab it with my teeth.
He lies down on the blanket and pats the spot beside him.
All I can think about is getting another one of those goddamn grapes. They taste way better than the grapes they sell at Ralph’s.
And Killian looks so freaking comfortable just lying on his back on top of the blanket, staring up at the sky...
Stretching out my arms, I tumble comfortably down onto my spot on the blanket.
Just as I suspected—it’s fucking comfortable. It feels luxurious, in the middle of fucking nature.
Killian absentmindedly holds out a grape, and I don’t think twice before taking it with my teeth and into my hungry maw.
It’s crisp, juicy, and to reiterate, fucking delicious.
“This is going to be good,” Killian says, popping a grape into his own mouth.
“Eating grapes? That’s happening already.”
He shakes his head, laughing.
“No, you and me. And this business arrangement. Because we’re both actually being smart about it, and we’re not letting any of the, you know, the usual bullshit get in the way.”
Slowly, I nod.
“Of course, we’re being smart about it,” I echo.
“I don’t know why more people don’t take up this idea. I mean, we’re entering into this arrangement with our eyes wide open. We know what we’re getting into. Any problem we strike we’ll be able to talk about it like two rational adults without all the bullshit attached.”
It does makes sense.
“Much better than falling head over heels in love. Once the honeymoon period ends, and it does end, we’d be arguing over everything. We’d be emotionally attached to decisions and positions.”
Killian laughs.
“You’re right. Imagine if we were doing it for real. I’d have to impress you, take you on fancy dates, and prove my fucking manliness or whatever shite to you.”
I nod and laugh. And Killian laughs. And I laugh really fucking hard when the image of myself, actually fucking dating someone, pops into my head.
“I’d have to get all dolled up and impress you and make sure I stroked your ego every second of the day.”
“You can still do that,” Killian points out with a twinkle in his eyes.
Not bad. It’s nice to be able to appreciate someone’s sense of humor without worrying about what impression you’re giving off.
I mean, he’s been funnier, but I still appreciate the moment. In fact, another wave of laughter is crashing over both of us now.
We’re screaming laughs into the sky like mythological Irish creatures of some sort. Maybe from some obscure corner of local mythology not famous enough to end up on cereal boxes the world over.
As the laughter slowly fades, my eyes glide over the heather. It’s soft on the eyes and soothing to the soul.
“But you know...” I turn to him as he offers another grape, taking it with my teeth.
I don’t finish the thought. I can’t.
For a minute or so, neither of us speak.
This is not the shit I want to talk about or think about.
Not with the whole Dickhead debacle still so fresh in my memory.
Damn it.
It’s a feeling I’m getting used to these days: I don’t know, and I can’t convince myself I do, either.
“This is for the best,” he murmurs.
I take it for granted that he seems to be responding to my thoughts.
Words fail me, and so I just nod.
Killian feeds me another grape.
“It’ll be fucking perfect,” he adds.
“It will,” I affirm.
And I wonder why I’m not feeling more enthusiastic.