Southern Desire (Southern Heart 2)

“Thank you, Aaron.”

Grabbing the bag, I turn to face her. “Ready?” I don’t give her time to answer. Instead, I place my hand on the small of her back and lead her out to my truck.

I’ve never met anyone like him. He’s kind and demanding at the same time. In my experience, those two things don’t exist in one person. They are either assholes or so nice that the chemistry is just not there; at least for me. That’s not the case with Aaron. I have to keep reminding myself that he and I are friends, or becoming friends. Not sure what you would classify us as. What I do know is that it’s nothing more than that, no matter how much my body tries to tell me otherwise. The more time I spend with him, the more the attraction grows. He’s a strong, sexy combination of every girl’s fantasy.

“Go ahead and put them on. I’ll wait.”

“Wait?”

“Yeah. You need your seat belt. I’m not taking that risk, so I’ll wait.”

There he goes again. Be still my heart, this guy is smooth. I ignore the flutters in my belly and work on pulling on the socks and boots. I don’t want to make him late. He grabs the box, places my flip-flops inside, and tosses it into the backseat.

“Perfect,” he says, his voice husky.

Looking over, I see that his eyes are focused on my legs. I squirm in my seat at the intensity of his gaze. This friendship is going to be harder than I originally thought. I reach for my seat belt and strap in before asking, “How far away are we?” My question pulls him out of his trance. He glances at me then focuses on his own belt and starting the truck.

“We’re about thirty minutes away. The show doesn’t start until eleven, so we have plenty of time.”

It’s like he read my mind. “Thank you, Aaron. You didn’t have to.”

Reaching over, he pats my knee, but instead of moving his hand after, he leaves it there. “I know I didn’t have to. I wanted to.” Glancing over, he winks. “They look good on you.”

Turning to look out the passenger window, I try to hide my blush. His words hit me deep. Add the feel of his calloused hand resting on my knee, and this guy has me all kinds of twisted. Embarrassment, want, need . . . desire.

The rest of the ride is quiet, yet comfortable. I manage to get my flaming cheeks under control and relax against the seat. Aaron’s hand remains on my knee. Sometimes he rubs his thumb in small circles, others he taps his fingers to the beat, but the constant is that he never moves it. We’re friends, so I know that I should want him to, but I don’t. I like the feel of his calloused fingers and the heat from his palm against my skin.

Aaron pulls his truck into the arena, and it’s a huge building, although I guess it would have to be to house all the horses and have a show arena.

“Wow, this is a big deal.” The parking lot is full.

“It is. This is part of how we make our living. If Midnight Rain does good, she will either be sold or bred. Either way, she or her foal will bring the farm big money. It’s even more for the studs. Once they win a couple of championships, you can sell them for a high price, and if you decide to breed them out or sell their sperm, it’s even more cash flow.”

“That actually happens?” I ask. “You really sell horse sperm?”

“Yeah. It’s big business. Good bloodlines lead to winning horses. That’s what people want.”

Wow. This is all new to me. “I never would have thought. . . . I mean, how does that even work?”

Aaron chuckles and squeezes my knee gently. “The next time we have one to breed or collect from, I’ll make sure you’re there.”

“Uh, yeah, I don’t think I need to see that.”

“Scared, city?” he chides me.

“Disgusted is more like it.”

“Oh, come on, it’s a part of life.” He winks.

The blush is back, but he doesn’t notice because he’s climbing out of the truck wearing a grin at my expense. I try to find irritation, but I can’t. He has a dimple in his left cheek that distracts me. So distracted, I’m startled when he opens my door for me.

“Ready to break in those new boots?”

“As I’ll ever be.” He reaches for my hand and helps me from the truck. I don’t need his help, but I take it. I reach for the back door, but he beats me to it, reaching in and pulling out my camera bag and throwing it over his shoulder.

“You made it,” a male voice comes from behind us.

“We did. The saddle is in the back.” The guy looks at me then back at Aaron. “Marty, this is Whitney. Whitney, Marty. He works for me at the farm.”

“Nice to meet you,” I say, holding out my hand.

“You too.” He takes my hand and gives it a gentle shake. “Right, so I’ll just load this stuff up. See you all inside.”

“Thanks, man,” Aaron says. He reaches out and grabs my hand, linking his fingers through mine. “It’s crazy in there, and I don’t want us to get separated. This is your first time here,” he explains.

What he doesn’t know is that he doesn’t need an excuse. I plan to be his shadow, but the feel of my hand in his is nice. Friends do this, right? Hold hands?

He leads me into the building and through the crowd. Once we reach the stables, the crowd thins, but he doesn’t let go of my hand. I don’t mind.

“This area is owners and trainers only,” he says. I freeze, pulling back on his hand, causing him to stop as well. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m not supposed to be back here.”

He gently tugs on our combined hands and I step toward him. Leaning down, he places his lips next to my ear. “You’re with me, Whit. No one is going to say a word.”

When he pulls away, I look up at him and he’s completely relaxed, which helps me do so as well. “Okay.”

He nods and begins walking again. This time, he stays beside me. We’re so close, not only are our hands entwined but our arms keep brushing. How did I end up here? How did I find this great guy who is okay with me, the city girl, tagging along with him? I am so far out of my element that it’s scary.

“Joe,” Aaron greets the trainer. “How’s she doing today?”

“Great. Had a good night. I wanted her to be used to the sounds and the smells so that she’s more relaxed come showtime.”