“Are you laughing at me?” He kept his gaze on the path, but his lips curved into a grin.
“When I saw you in The Taco Bar kitchen, after that awful date with Hugh—”
“You remember his name?” he asked.
He’s no longer smiling.
“Mr. Thigh Gap was a low point in my career as a serial online dater. Hard to forget rock bottom.”
“Former career.” He turned to look at her. “Right, Lucy?”
“Well, there’s this guy—”
His grip tightened on the reins, and his legs pressed against his mount. The gelding raised his head and side-stepped, unsure how to handle the mixed signals. Beauty glanced over at the other horse but maintained her meandering pace.
“Lucy,” he growled.
“Philip Ryder,” she continued. “He seems like a prince. But he lives in New York most of the time.”
Jared’s grip on the reins relaxed, and his horse lowered his head. “We’ll make it work. I have an office here. Plus, I own a plane.”
Comfort rushed up to her like a wave at low tide. The feeling approached, but it wasn’t powerful enough to engulf her. Not yet.
Because there are too many questions, she thought. How? Would he move? Would he ask her to leave her company like her ex had?
“Plus, he’s a workaholic,” she said, her tone now devoid of playful laughter.
“So are you,” he said. “Multiple parties every weekend. Hours of prep and planning. Charity visits.”
“And I love every minute,” she said. “I don’t want to give it up.”
“I’m not asking you to, Lucy. I don’t want you to walk away from a company that you built from nothing.”
Another rush of relief washed up to her, but quickly receded. The sun beat down on her, leaving her parched and sweaty.
Horseback riding is feeling less and less romantic.
Or maybe the conversation—the fears bubbling to the surface now, on their first real date—owned the blame.
“Between distance and work schedules,” she said softly, her gaze fixed on the still water in the canal. “I wonder if there is enough space for us.”
“We’ll make space,” he said firmly.
“But when you go back to New York, to your life there,” she protested. And see the models . . . “And your friends—”
“Lucy.” He pulled back on the reins, and his horse halted. Beauty followed the gelding’s lead. “Look at me.”
She shifted in the saddle, twisting to look at her billionaire turned cowboy-for-the-day.
He doesn’t look different. Not even when he’s comfortably mounted on a horse. Same blue eyes. Same wavy, brown hair.
His right hand made a fist around the reins while his other hand gripped the saddle horn. His horse shifted its weight from one hind leg to the other. The corded muscles in Jared’s forearm tensed.
Comfortable might be a stretch, she realized. He was in control on the horse but not at home. Still, he’d set up the adventure and taken the risk. He’d climbed onto a horse on a hot, humid summer day because he knew that once upon a time she’d wanted to ride.
“I’m looking,” she murmured.
“I can count on one hand the people who knew me before The Mitchell Fund took off, and I started making money. Finn’s on the list. And so are you. I know I was just your brother’s friend when you were a kid—”