Paradise Lost (Private 9)

"As Sienna quite loudly informed me," he joked.

I smirked in response, and then wondered what to say next. I felt a little off-kilter after that errant thought this morning--that maybe I was falling for Upton. And if that was the case, I had to be smart here. Upton was a player, and I needed to know more about his past. I reached up tentatively to pat Misty's snout and she allowed it, though I could see the amusement

in her big brown eyes. She could tell that I was a novice and was definitely humoring me. I gave her another carrot.

"I think every girl in that group is in love with you," I said lightly, even though there was a lump of trepidation forming in my throat. I wasn't exactly sure I wanted to let him in on this fact in case, by some miracle, he hadn't figured it out already.

"Not Noelle," he replied, giving Bolt one last brush.

Okay, so apparently he was aware.

I swallowed hard. "No, not Noelle. But everyone else."

Upton hoisted a heavy saddle up onto Bolt's back. I watched his arms as he worked, almost captivated by the movement of his muscles. Almost. I was on a mission here.

"Well, I wouldn't say 'love,'" he replied casually as he strapped Bolt in.

He was being very vague and cavalier about this. So cavalier that I was starting to feel he actually did have something to hide. My

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heart twisted, and Misty nudged my shoulder. I quickly handed over another carrot. This girl, at least, was going to love me before the day was through.

Ask him. Just ask him how many of them he's been with. Then you can stop being jealous of everyone and just focus your little green man on those who actually deserve it.

"All right, just tell me," I said. "How many of them have you actually hooked up with?"

It couldn't really have been all of them except Taylor. Not all.

"It depends on how you define 'hooking up,'" he said, turning away and grabbing his shirt off the hook where he'd left it. He offered no further information.

I bit my lip. Clearly he wasn't going to tell me. So I had a choice to make. When it came down to it, did it really matter? This was just a fling I was having here, right? An island romance. When we left this place, chances were we'd never seen each other again. It didn't matter that I was so "in his head" that I was "annoying." It didn't matter that I had almost thought the word "love" in my own mind that morning. I'd had an Upton hangover then, but now I was clearheaded again. Much more so, now that he had his shirt on.

"Shall we?" Upton asked, offering me his hand.

I dropped the bucket of carrots. "We shall," I replied, putting on a bad English accent. Upton grinned, all but stopping my heart.

Fling, Reed. This is a fling.

And once it was flung, it would be over. For good.

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CHAPTER 21 SPOOKED

It took about an hour, but my inner thighs finally started to loosen up. It was clear that Misty knew not to take the speed above a leisurely stroll, and she followed the wide trail through the trees as if she'd traced the route every day of her life. Which, of course, she probably had. No doubt Upton had ridden her through here dozens of times. Or he'd had his girlfriends ride her through here dozens of times.

But I wasn't thinking about that. Fling, fling, fling.

"This actually is kind of relaxing," I said, looking through the trees to the ocean beyond. It grew darker toward the horizon, almost cobalt blue where it met the sky. We were headed back up the hill toward the stable and the Ryans' house beyond. Soon we would come out of the trees and head across the open bluff toward the estate's buildings.

"That's because you're a natural," Upton called out to me from behind, where he was keeping an eye on me from Bolt's saddle.

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"No. It's because you're a good instructor," I said, turning my head so I could see him.

I hadn't tried to do this once since he'd stopped riding next to me and had taken the rear. Hadn't felt comfortable enough to take my eyes off the trail. Now, as I managed to do it without tugging Misty off the path, I caught a glimpse of Upton's smile and felt proud of myself. Maybe I was a natural.