Dreaming of His Pen Pal's Kiss - Jessie Gussman Page 0,54
I’m ready.” He seriously felt he was going to fall off at any second, which made him tense and squeeze. He was holding on pretty tight. “Can you breathe?”
“Not really. But if we go fast, I might make it back here before I pass out.”
“Funny.”
“Seriously, Dante. I know it’s hard to relax, mostly because you’re used to being in control. But just try to feel the horse underneath you, and just let your body move with it. As athletic as you are, I know you have great balance. Trust me.”
“Trust you? What about the horse?”
“Me. No horse is perfect, but Blakely wouldn’t have brought us a horse that was going to be a problem. I’m not the greatest rider in the world, and she knows it.”
Her head was turned sideways, and he leaned down, deliberately brushing his cheek with hers and accidentally distracting himself from the idea of the horse.
Maybe he wouldn’t say it out loud, but rather than closing his eyes and trusting the horse, maybe he could close his eyes and savor the scent of pine needles and ginger and something else that reminded him of laughter and light and an easy friendship that wanted to be more.
If he hadn’t been sitting on the horse with his arms around her, he might have missed the shiver. As it was, it matched his.
His voice lowered. “I’m starting to see the advantages of riding horseback. Keep talking.”
“I didn’t say anything,” she murmured, and he thought maybe she was as distracted as he was by the brush of their skin. “I’m wondering if Blakely planned this.”
“I think you belong to a family of matchmakers.”
“I think maybe you better consider yourself warned.”
“I’m not sure warned is the right word.”
She seemed to relax back into him before she tensed. He wanted to ask what the problem was, but she turned her head forward and did something. The horse started walking.
“Are you okay with this?” she asked.
“I am. You can go faster. I’ll try not to cut your air off.”
“Breathing is overrated. I’ll catch up on it tonight. Hold on as tight as you need to.”
She wasn’t waif thin like a lot of the women he dated had been. There was a sturdiness about her that felt as substantial as her personality and the things she believed. She felt solid and grounded like she was true enough to be an anchor but not unbendable.
Those weren’t ever qualities he’d looked for or appreciated in a woman, but his accident and the letters he’d exchanged with Journee had altered his values and he found himself thinking things he’d never considered before.
Everything probably would have been okay if the teenage couple who was competing against them hadn’t gone screeching by in a truck that Dante swore did not have a muffler at all.
The sound grew, and it wasn’t exactly a shock, but it reached a pitch that the horse could no longer take, and the body under him went from a gentle rock to a jerk, dip, swoop, and then it disappeared from beneath him.
That was the only way he could explain it.
It took a little while for him to get his brain function going as he lay on his back, staring up at the sky, a little dazed as to how he got there.
It wasn’t much consolation that Journee lay with her head on his stomach between his legs.
He had a feeling the reason she fell off was because he didn’t let go of her.
He was still struggling to breathe, but that thought made him battle to sit up.
“I’m sorry. With all that was happening, it made me clutch tighter rather than loosen my grip. I know you’d still be on that horse if it weren’t for me.”
He’d managed to sit up, bringing her up too, with his legs bent on either side of Journee, and his arms around her, his face over her shoulder so that when she turned her head, their noses almost touched.
“It’s okay. I can’t agree with that. I’m not a good rider, especially when a horse bolts like that.”
Her breath whispered across his face, and while he heard her words, he was much more interested in watching the movement of her lips. The pain from falling off the horse had almost completely faded from his mind, superseded by the feeling that the woman in his arms was perfectly placed.
The bands of heat shooting out from his chest were new and enjoyable, too.
“Are you okay? I guess that should have been my