“Well, what can I do for you fine ladies and gentlemen?” Homer asked.
“I need some action shots,” our director cut in. “Something dramatic, majestic. You got a good mount for Mr. Knox to ride?”
“Do I ever! Come take a gander at this piece of horseflesh, you ain’t never seen better—”
Homer began to lead them off to the stall with his prize stallion, a majestic coal-black beast with fiery eyes but a loyal heart. I was about to follow, when I heard a gentle whicker. I looked into the stall it was coming from, and saw the most beautiful horse I could have ever imagined.
Her coat was freshly brushed and shone like moonstone, her mane long and silver-white like my childhood dreams of unicorns. Her eyes were deep dark pools, and she clopped right up to the bars and gently lipped them, as if saying hello.
“Ah, I see I can’t keep the jewel of the crown away from you,” Homer said from behind me.
I started. How long had I been standing in one place, entranced by this beautiful mare? Hunter was already leading his horse out the door, and he grinned back at me with a playfully challenging air.
“Want to ride?” he asked.
I waved him off, shaking my head. “Nah, they don’t need footage of me.”
Hunter mounted his horse in one smooth motion, the muscles of his back rippling. “Your loss.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” I said. “The view from this angle is no loss at all.”
#
Hunter put on an excellent show. It was a good thing there were other professionals there, because there were several moments when I became too occupied with drooling to do a single damn thing. His glistening skin under the hot sun, the way his shirt stretched over his muscled torso, his firm but gentle hold on the reins…what can I say? There’s just something really hot about good horsemanship.
Even as everyone else wrapped up, Hunter seemed reluctant to leave. Finally, when it was just the two of us and one actor scarfing down the leftover sandwiches from craft service, I rolled my eyes and went over to him. “Come on, Hunter, we still need to sign the last of the paperwork.”
“It’ll keep ‘til tomorrow,” he said.
Despite his words, he had started trotting towards the stables, so I as**sumed he was going along with the plan when suddenly, he just stopped.
I stopped too, and looked up at him.
“Well, I don’t know what you’re looking at me for,” he said. “I’m the one waiting for you.”
“Waiting for me to do what?” I asked. “Develop telepathy?”
He grinned, and guided his horse in a quick little circle around me. “Come on, I saw you eyeing that mare. You had a horse phase as a little girl, admit it.”
“It was hardly a phase—” I started.
“There’s no shame in it. I understand most girls have a horse phase, or a wolf phase. Sometimes a dragon phase, is that true?”
“You know what’s not hot?” I shot back in my best monotone. “How well you know the psyches of little girls.”
He smirked. “Come on, Ally! Saddle up. You don’t know what you’re missing!”
“I do, actually,” I said, “but some of us have responsibilities—”
“I’ll show you the ropes,” he offered. “Take it nice and easy on you, I promise.”
Did he just…
He did just.
Oh hell no.
“Excuse me?” And with a raised eyebrow I walked into the stables and to the stall of that gorgeous mare, opened the door, and mounted her in a single smooth motion.
In fairness to Hunter, he was outside and didn’t see that, so it wasn’t entirely condescending when he started to try explaining how to control the animal: “Now, you want to imagine that your body and the horse’s are one—”
On the other hand, I’d never been much for lectures on subject matter I already knew, even from guys so hot they could make the sun explode.
So I cut the matter to the chase by running a ring around him and jumping three fences in a row.
You know, beginner stuff.
Then my mare and I galloped away, leaving Hunter in the dust, before wheeling to a stop atop the hill. I laughed out loud in exhilaration, the wind rifling wildly through my hair, the air muggy and hot and scented with ripe earth and pine needles and promise.
And why shouldn’t I be exhilarated? If Hunter knew anything about my mom, he should have realized that she would have insisted on a proper young lady having knowledge of the equine arts, a.k.a. horseback-riding lessons since I was three.
Hunter was currently at the bottom of the hill, gape-mouthed.
“What’s the matter, Richie Rich?” I called back. “Can’t keep up?”
? Also By Lila Monroe
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