Playing the Polo Player

She lets out a little bit of laughter and pans her vision back to Anders as she continues petting the horse. “He seems fine to me.”

Anders runs a hand through his hair and shakes his head. “I don’t know what’s going on with the damn creature. Every time I approach it, it hides just like that.”

Luce frowns and offers a little shrug. “Maybe you should try approaching him more slowly. Horses of any age can be a bit skeptical of new environments—”

Anders cuts her off with a harsh shake of his head. “I know how to work with horses, young lady. This isn’t exactly my first pony.”

My rage starts to rise at the way he’s talking to her. Talking about the horse like that? Asshole move, but whatever. Talking about her?

Motherfucker.

I’m ready to tear limbs. My knuckles turn white on the edge of Delmar’s stall as I try to get a grip on myself, so I don’t rush over there and paint the walls with Anders’ blood. Time was, I would have done just that and screw the consequences, but that part of my life is over. I’ve worked hard to get things back on track and if I scare Luce away with my rage I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to recover.

“Fair enough,” Luce mutters, her tone polite, but I can tell she’s peeved. “He doesn’t seem to have anything wrong, though. I suggest just taking time to build trust with him. He’ll be fine.”

Anders huffs and crosses his arms. “Fine. All right. Well, thanks for coming out to take a look at it, I guess.” Then, he pivots on his heel to head back out of the stable, muttering along the way, “Damned horse better to start saddle training next year.”

Inwardly, I gape at the notion of riding a two-year-old horse. While some think it’s okay, most people agree that it’s best to wait until the horse is at least four to start, so that it will be fully grown. Anders must be wanting to get the most out of the horse, I guess. It feels a little cruel, though.

Propping myself in the opening of Delmar’s stall, I watch as Luce has a long goodbye with her foal. My heart warms at the love in her eyes that I can see even from a distance, and the way the skittish foal seems absolutely glued to her. Even though I don’t want to interrupt their goodbye, I think it’s fair to assume she’s having a hard time parting from it. At least calling over to her will give her an out.

“You really are good with horses, aren’t you?”

Her head snaps up and her eyes lock onto me. There’s surprise over her features for a moment, but then it falls to something else. “Mhm,” she replies.

It doesn’t take an expert to pick up on the fact she’s upset and not wanting to talk to me; nor does it take one to deduce that it’s likely because I didn’t text her back. Still, I don’t want to jump to conclusions based off a single sound. “Hate that you had to come all the way out here just for a five-minute consultation that was just a long-winded way of telling Anders to stop being a dick.”

“I’d go anywhere to help the horses that leave my stable,” Luce answers, her expression set. Not a hint of a smile, nothing.

Yeah, that’s enough for me. Tossing the brush to the side, I busy myself with taking my gloves off as I speak again. “I’m sorry I never texted you back. I guess you could say I was trying to play it cool.”

She snorts and lets out a brief, bitter laugh as she shakes her head and heads out of the foal’s stall. “Right, because I am such a cool gal that I need to be impressed.”

I’m grinning ear to ear as I nod, “You sure are, darlin’.”

Luce’s cheeks light up like a stop light, bright and red, and it gives her pause. Apparently, she wasn’t expecting me to be so openly flirtatious. Per my earlier reservations, I likely shouldn’t. However, being around her, it’s far too tempting.

“Come on over here, meet my horse at least before you run off and forget me.”

Oh so gradually, she takes steps toward me. “Like I’m the one running off,” she bravely retorts. “At least I have the balls to give out my number. You didn’t even confirm yours.”

I keep the gate open so she can enter. As she passes me, I lean down and whisper in her ear, “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

Her warm brown eyes dart my way and analyze my face, which is a combination of a smug smirk and bedroom eyes. I’m not sure if I can hold myself back at all now that she’s here, but I’ll do my best to be the gentleman I’ve taught myself to be.