“Doesn’t like competition for your attentions, apparently.” Devlin’s voice was deep with a very masculine tension. He still had his arm around her waist and didn’t seem in a hurry to break the contact. Which was just fine with her.
A.J. let out a shaky laugh. “I feel like we’ve been caught by a parent.”
Devlin stepped away. As he put his hands in his pockets, he cleared his throat. “I feel like I should say something apologetic. But I’m not sorry I kissed you.”
A.J. wasn’t sorry, either, and she was about to tell him when he continued. “I’ll do my best not to do it again. You can’t very well have your trainer be your lo—be anything other than your trainer.”
Even though A.J. knew he was right, it was hard not to feel rebuffed. And as if she were going to pass out from sexual frustration.
“Right. Er—I guess I should get my gear….”
“I’ll help.”
There was an awkward silence as they went about picking up the mess their impact had created. Tack was fumbled in hands that were usually steady; awkward half sentences were started and left dangling.
The kiss had changed the center of gravity between them, tilting them off-balance. What had been a hypothetical attraction was now very real thanks to the taste of pleasure, and both retreated into their own thoughts as they grappled with the implications.
When they came back out of the tack room, Devlin said, “Tell you what—I’ll unload the car. You get the hall monitor ready.”
They looked back at the stallion, who was still staring at them with grave censure. A.J. had to laugh.
It was a sound Devlin liked and his eyes lingered on her as she walked toward the horse. Watching her hips sway made him harden again and he shifted his jeans, feeling like a teenager. That thought made him smile grimly and, trying to forget how she smelled like lavender, he gathered up some gear and supplies. As he carried the load into the tack room, and apportioned the equipment onto various empty pegs and saddle posts, he resolved to think about something other than how good she’d felt against him.
Anything else, dammit.
To distract himself, Devlin walked past the rows of dust-covered saddles and bridles to the lone window at the far end of the room. He could see the ring beyond and the mid-level jumps he’d struggled to put together while she’d been gone. The physical labor of moving the long wooden poles and adjusting the cups to change the jump heights hadn’t been taxing. The problem was his leg. His limp had meant it took twice the time it should have to set up for their first training session.
It made him think. He was going to need help.
To get her and the horse ready for the Qualifier, he was going to have to work the pair over a variety of jumps and combinations, and that meant there was going to be a lot of shuffling in that ring. Much as he hated to acknowledge his injury, he had to admit he couldn’t handle the job efficiently. It would save them a lot of downtime to have someone around who could reset the jumps if the horse faulted, change the combinations and haul feed. It looked as if he was going to have to call Chester.
Never thought I’d need to, Devlin marveled, shaking his head.
He and Chester had been together since Devlin had started out as a stable boy himself. The old man had great horse sense and was a tireless worker, and the two had been a terrific team. Letting his dear friend go after the accident had been one more loss for him to bear but Chester had always said he’d be back. Devlin hadn’t believed him.
Now things were different, he thought, hearing A.J. moving around outside.
Leaving the room, Devlin caught sight of her coming out of Sabbath’s stall and leading the stallion out to the crossties. She was wearing well-worn jeans that hugged her thighs and hips like a second skin. The sight of her legs flashing underneath his shirttails came to mind and he sucked back a groan of need.
It was going to be a long two months, working with someone he wanted so badly. And there was no doubt that they needed to keep things professional. He knew pursuing a relationship with her would put them both in a difficult, if not impossible, situation. The training they needed to do with the stallion was going to mean a grueling schedule of workouts and long hours. He was going to have to be objective about her riding and her efforts and they were both going to need to keep level heads, something that would be impossible if they became passionately involved. And passionately was the only way they’d become involved, given the explosion that had happened in front of the tack room.
Keep it down to business with her, he told himself as he went out to get another armload of gear.
Good luck, an inner voice taunted.
After Devlin finished unpacking the car, he picked off a battered clipboard from a hook on the wall next to the tack room. It had been as integral a part of his former training as his saddle and his boots, the place where he scribbled his thoughts and his plans. Cradling it for a moment in his hands, he was struck by how odd the familiar weight felt. He’d never thought he’d be holding it again. Sliding the stub of a pencil free from its top and feeling the rough texture where his teeth had chewed the wood ragged, he felt disconnected with his own past. How much time had he spent with the clipboard on his lap, deep in thought, planning his attack on another course? Laying siege for another victory.
More hours than the night has stars.
Devlin leaned up against the main door of the stable, once again putting lead to a page. He became lost in his thoughts, seeing jumps in his mind and transcribing the pathways of flying hooves. Frowning in concentration, he was carried away, back to a world he remembered so well. And had missed so badly.
From under Sabbath’s belly, where A.J. had wedged herself to pick out one of his hooves, she glanced at Devlin. Her body was still raging like an engine on overdrive and she felt like she’d been marked indelibly by their kiss. It was unlike anything she’d ever experienced before, as profound as it was frightening.
Even though his words afterward stung, she had to agree that keeping some distance between them was the right thing to do. If they did get involved, it wasn’t going to be casual. That kiss had been too electric and she already felt an emotional connection with him because of their conversation in the morning.
She came here to ride and to win, she reminded herself. Not to get entangled in an affair that could get her seriously hurt.
A.J. moved over to the stallion’s other foreleg. He protested when she asked him to lift it and she had to lean into him to get it off the ground. Sabbath, she was learning, had very sensitive feet. He flinched as she dug the pick in to free the impacted dirt but she ignored him as she thought more about Devlin’s kiss.