Picking up her gray Stetson, she left her keys in the ignition and climbed out of the Bronco. She settled her hat on her head as she walked over toward Jack. Jack the horseman. Amazing though it seemed now, she’d never seen him ride.
Picturing him mounted on that black and white Paint, his snug jeans defining all his attributes as his thighs gripped the saddle, Josie grew faint with desire. In that moment she realized that Jack would have to be the gatekeeper when it came to forgoing any sex between them. Faced with his manly self in full cowboy mode, she simply wouldn’t have the willpower.
His dark gaze gave nothing away as he glanced at her. “You’re right on time.” He gave no indication that he’d noticed she had on her sexiest jeans and a fitted shirt.
She’d chosen the outfit carefully, because whether he made a move or not, she hoped he’d want to. If he wanted to and exercised great restraint, that was kind of an exciting prospect. She liked being forbidden fruit.
“I told you I’d be here.” She sounded much crustier than she felt. Inside she was one gooey marshmallow of unsatisfied needs.
“Okay, then.” He pulled the brim of his black hat down over his eyes. “We can start in the corral if you want, but Destiny’s a very calm gelding, so I think you’ll be fine if we go out on the trail.”
She managed to tear her gaze away from Jack long enough to look at the horse he’d chosen for her — a tall brown and white Paint with a white blaze down his nose. “So his name’s Destiny?”
“I chose him for his disposition, not his name. He’s twenty-two, and both Gabe and Nick learned to ride on him. He’s as close to a pet as any horse on the ranch.”
“Who named him Destiny?”
“I did, but don’t hold that against me. I was ten and into dramatic names.”
“Okay.” She should know better than to assign sentimental motives to a guy like Jack. “What’s your horse’s name?” She couldn’t believe she didn’t know after all the time she’d spent with him.
“Bandit.”
At the sound of his name, the horse turned his head and displayed the reason for his name. The pattern of black and white on his face made him look as if he wore a mask.
“I see,” Josie said. “What a perfect horse for a gunslinger. Thanks for wearing my favorite black shirt, by the way.”
“It happened to be clean.”
She didn’t believe that for a minute. “I’m sure that’s true, Jack. Heaven forbid you’d wear a certain shirt because you know I like it.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” But there was a definite smile in his voice. “Okay, what do you say we get this party started?”
“Fine with me.” She gazed up at the saddle that seemed fairly high above the ground. “How do I get on?”
“From the left. Put your left foot in the stirrup, grab the saddle horn, and swing your right leg over.”
Josie did as she was told and found herself astride a horse for the first time in her life. She was reminded of her first time on a chair lift at a ski resort — beginning something new was both scary and exhilarating.
“Take your feet out of the stirrups for a minute. They’re a couple of inches too long.”
Holding tight to the leather saddle horn, she glanced down at Jack as she slipped her feet out of the stirrups. He messed with the buckle on the left stirrup and kept brushing her leg in the process. She could have moved her leg out of the way, but she chose not to. His touch gave her the kind of shivers she hadn’t had in ten months.
He finished with the left stirrup and moved around the back of the horse to repeat the same procedure on the right side. She could swear his breathing had changed.
“Try that.” His voice was as calm as ever, but he didn’t look at her.
“How’s it supposed to feel?”
He glanced up at her then, and his gaze was a lot more intense than it had been earlier. “It should feel…” His voice grew husky. “It should feel good.”
Her breath caught. “I don’t know what good feels like.”
Groaning softly, he squeezed his eyes shut. “Damn, Josie.”
“I’m talking about the saddle.”
He opened his eyes and looked into hers. “No, you’re not, and neither am I.”
Heat sluiced through her.
“Maybe we should stay in the corral.”
“Sounds boring.”
“Sounds safe. You’ve never ridden before, so walking around the corral is probably the best—”
“I’d rather ride on the trail.”
He gave her a long look. “All right. Then let’s check your stirrups so we can get going. Stand up. There should be daylight between the saddle and your… and you.” He swore softly again and looked away. “You know what I mean.”
“Yes.” She pressed the balls of her feet into the stirrups and rose up. “How’s that?”
“Fine.”
“You didn’t look.”
“Yeah, I did. You just missed seeing it.” He untied the reins from the hitching post, knotted them together, and lifted them over Destiny’s head. “Hold these in your left hand.”
She took the reins and their hands brushed. Once again her nerve endings played the Hallelujah Chorus.
As if he needed some distance, Jack stepped back to deliver further instructions. “This horse neck reins. That means you lay the reins on his left side and he’ll veer right, and vice-versa.”
“Got it. How do I make him stop?”
“Say whoa and pull back gently and evenly on the reins. It won’t take much. He has a soft mouth.” Then, as if he couldn’t help himself, Jack’s gaze went to her mouth.
Acting without thinking, she ran her tongue over her suddenly dry lips. Jack kept staring at her mouth, and she found herself leaning forward.
No telling what might have happened next if a rugged-looking cowboy who appeared to be in his late fifties hadn’t called out from the doorway of the barn. “Hey, Jack, I’m going to run into town and pick up a couple of new shovels for the barn.”
Jack blinked and gave his head a little shake before turning toward the barn. “That’s fine, Emmett.”
“Oh, and have a nice ride, Josie,” Emmett said. “You’ll like Destiny. He has an easy gait, like sitting on a rocking chair.”
“Thanks, Emmett.” Josie recognized him now. He was Emmett Sterling, the ranch foreman. Every once in awhile he came into the Spirits and Spurs for a beer, but he usually kept to himself so she had never gotten into a conversation with him.
“I doubt I’ll be back in time for lunch,” Emmett said. “Unless you have an objection, I’ll stop by the Bunk and Grub on the way home and check out a drainage problem in Pam’s vegetable garden.”
Jack smiled. “No problem. Have fun.”
“It’s not like that, Jack. I’m just being neighborly, is all.”
“I understand, Emmett. We surely don’t want Pam thinking we’re a bad neighbor. I’m glad you’re on the job.”
Emmett snorted and waved a dismissive hand before heading for one of the two trucks parked beside the barn.