Summer Kisses (116 page)

“They weren’t aluminum race plates,” she muttered and her chin now had a mutinous tilt. “Just normal shoes.”

“Were they extra thick or heavy?”

She shook her head.

“You sure?”

“Yes.” She snapped the word over her shoulder and pushed Dusty into a jog.

He let her go but felt the disappointment. Damn. Normal shoes were too thin to be hollowed out. Unless the mare’s vet check revealed something, his smuggling theory had just crashed. And his list of suspects was down to zero.

They were both silent as they climbed the steep path and entered a stand of spruce. The horses seemed affected by their riders’ moods and plodded with gloomy ears and labored breathing. The trees filtered the sun’s rays, and the stink of rotting vegetation cloyed the air.

Cisco jammed to a stop. Kurt stared at the trees snarled across the path, like a giant game of pick-up-sticks.

“Can your horse cross that?” Julie asked as she studied the mess. She didn’t look at him, and it was clear she was annoyed with the way he’d grilled her. “If they get a leg caught and panic,” she added, “it could be quite a wreck.”

“Cisco will be fine,” he said quietly, still nursing his disappointment. “Want me to cross first?”

Her expression turned smug as she eyed his App, and she even had the gall to sniff. “I better go first. My horse is bred for this. Dusty’s one of our best trail horses. He doesn’t need a groomed track in the city.”

She kicked Dusty forward, and Kurt smiled in spite of his failure to uncover any useful information. He should have guessed she’d interpret his words as a challenge—and of course, any self-respecting jockey would want to lead the way. Despite the blanks he’d shot today, he was still glad to be spending the day with her.

Dusty’s head lowered, and the horse picked a careful route over the deadfall. In some spots, the branches were so high they scraped her stirrups. Dusty was almost safely across when his hind leg snagged in a vee of branches.
Crack!
A tree shifted, tilting under his belly and pinning his front legs.

The rim of his eyes flashed white. He leaped in the air and charged forward, tossing Julie onto his neck.
Smack!
The saddlebags whacked his ribs, scaring him even further. When he finally scrambled to the other side, he was wide eyed and trembling.

Kurt exhaled in relief. Not many riders could have stayed on through that kind of rodeo. Even Cisco had been entertained, his ears pricked as he watched Dusty’s odd contortions.

Julie leaped off and ran her hands down the horse’s legs. “He’s okay,” she said, color returning to her face.

“What’s that on his hoof?” Kurt leaned forward, staring at the dark mark on Dusty’s left hoof. He’d noticed it before but had assumed it was dirt.

“Hoof brand. A friend of Dad’s has a grazing permit. Some of our horses are turned out in the summer. The brand makes it easier to identify the carcasses,” she wrinkled her nose, “in case of animal attacks. What do you think? Want to try to cross, or should we find you an easier way around?”

She gave a saucy smile, and he knew he’d cross much more than a deadfall to join her. He clucked and Cisco stepped forward, carefully easing each leg between the downed trees. He gave his horse plenty of rein, letting Cisco pick his footing. The saddlebags were silent.

“Not bad.” Julie gave a reluctant salute when he reached her side. “But you have to remember I went first and showed you where to step.”

“Or where not to.” He smiled at her competitive nature, resolving to enjoy the rest of the day. Tomorrow he’d find another suspect. His gaze lowered, and he forgot their banter and simply stared. The chilly air had left her nipples pointed and outlined against the fabric of her shirt. Lust curled deep in his belly, and he jerked his gaze away.

“Come on.” She wheeled Dusty, urging her horse up the last slope. “It’ll be a lot warmer in the valley. Better view too.”

“The view here is perfect,” he said, his voice husky, but he followed her into the grassy meadow. “Is this where we’re stopping?”

“Not yet. There’s a river further up where the horses can drink. Lots of grass too.”

He forced his eyes off Julie and studied the mountains still topped with snow. “They’re beautiful. Like a movie backdrop. Thanks for bringing me here,” he added quietly.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it.” She grinned like a proud parent. “This is one of my favorite seasons too. The big animals haven’t left for higher country, and that lovely spring smell is everywhere. Look.” Her voice hushed. “There’s a coyote. She must have pups somewhere.” A gray shadow slipped through a stand of pines with something brown and unlucky dangling from its mouth. “If we follow, we might find the den,” she added, her voice bubbling with excitement.

Kurt’s eyes drifted back to her chest. “I think we should get to the campsite and relax. My horse is hungry.”

He pushed past her and across the meadow. Cisco balked—unusual for him—but Kurt was in a hurry and forced him forward. The Appaloosa stepped out but humped his back. Three steps in and Kurt heard an ominous sucking sound. Cisco floundered, sinking so fast Kurt’s stirrups buried in the swampy ground.

Damn. The menacing bog stretched around him. Beautiful, green, deadly. He helped Cisco gather himself for a powerful effort, and the horse wheeled on his haunches. Mud flew as Cisco scrambled back to firm ground.

Julie laughed and recoiled her lariat. “Thought I’d have a chance to use my rope. I do believe that horse is smarter than his rider.”

The horse is a gelding. He’s not distracted, Kurt thought, as he leaned down and studied the brown muck clinging to Cisco’s belly. “A good guide would have warned me.” He straightened, watching as she fingered her rope as though hopeful he might make another attempt to cross the bog. “And put that damn rope away,” he added. “You’re scaring me.”

“Greenhorns should stay behind their guide.” She stuck her nose in the air. “Or maybe I will have to rope someone today.”

“I promise not to pass anymore,” he said. “Scout’s honor.”

“I doubt you ever were a Scout,” she said, still smiling. “This way, silly.”

He wasn’t in the habit of letting people call him silly, but he followed her around the treacherous ground and even let her lead. Besides, despite the disappointment about Connor, he was having fun.

They lingered at the edge of a clear river to let the horses drink. When Dusty lifted his head, Julie spoke with a renewed air of command. “We can cross on that shallow bar but stay behind me…greenie.”

She looked like a Nordic princess as she walked her horse into the water although she was taking this guide thing much too seriously. He felt like he was back in school again, where life was simple and fun. However, the name calling was getting out of hand.

He studied the swirling river, then trotted Cisco across the shallow side channel, catching up to Julie and Dusty just as they entered the gravel bar. He positioned Cisco directly behind her, timing it so his horse’s legs kicked up a sheet of water.

The frigid spray sparkled as it hit her back, and her startled squeal made him grin. “It’s freezing!” she said. “Move up beside me.”

“Ah, but I was told to stay behind the guide.”

She turned, protesting, but water splashed her chest, and the shock on her face was so comical he laughed like a kid. She kicked Dusty into a lope, soaking herself even more. Both she and her horse were drenched by the time they clambered onto the opposite bank.

Sputtering, she wheeled Dusty around. Her chest heaved, and she swiped at her dripping face, too mad to even talk. Dusty shook himself, spraying water everywhere, looking just as pissed.

Kurt was still laughing, and even Cisco walked with more of a swagger. But Julie was much wetter than he’d intended. Even her front was soaked, the shirt plastered to her chest.

Her mouth opened and closed. “I should leave you here,” she sputtered, “but probably Cisco would show you the way out.”

She spun her horse and trotted into the campsite, dripping a trail of water.

Kurt followed, trying to flatten his grin. He dismounted beside a stack of firewood and a blackened ring of rocks. “I’ll unsaddle for you, sweetheart,” he said, careful to keep his mouth flat.

“Don’t ‘sweetheart’ me,” she snapped, and it was obvious she spotted the twitching of his mouth. “I can unsaddle my own horse. The exercise will warm me up.”

She really was soaked. Her shirt and bra were transparent. Completely transparent. He swallowed and pulled off his own saddle before leading Cisco deeper into the meadow where there was less chance he could sneak away. Cisco was wily and could move fast, even with hobbles.

On the way back to the campsite he passed Dusty, now hobbled and contentedly ripping off sweet blades of grass. Julie sat cross-legged on the ground but didn’t look nearly as content.

He stopped by his saddle and untied the blanket. The sun would dry her thin shirt, but her jeans were drenched and plastered to her legs. He walked over and lowered himself beside her. “I really am sorry,” he said quietly. “Sometimes I don’t think.”

“One of my friends always pulls that trick too.” She shook her head in exasperation. “Why do guys have to soak girls whenever they’re around water?”

He cocked his head, pretending to give it serious thought. “Guess it’s the squeals we like, those helpless little cries. And when they come from a jockey, one of the most dangerous and toughest professions in the world, no man can possibly resist—”

“Enough.” She smiled but the word trailed to a shiver.

“Spread your jeans in the sun,” he said. “You can wrap yourself in the blanket while they dry. I’ll grab the saddlebags and see what’s for lunch.”

He rose and gathered the bags, trying to keep his back turned but couldn’t resist a few peeks. Saw her struggle with the boots, the slow peel of her drenched jeans. Cute pink underwear. She didn’t remove her shirt.

He waited until she was wrapped in the blanket then slung the saddlebags over his shoulder and returned to the campsite.

“Warm enough?” he asked, dropping the bags and sitting down beside her.

“Yes. But on the way back you’re crossing the river first. The deadfall too. I don’t think I should trust you.”

“No,” he said. “You shouldn’t.” She was looking at him with big eyes, so he picked up the edge of the blanket and gently blotted her hair. “I didn’t mean for you to get this wet.”

“Yet you laughed,” she said. But she tilted her head and let him dry her hair, even the tiny tendrils at the nape of her neck, and he liked how the sun glinted on her lighter strands. He also liked that she didn’t stay mad for long. Some women sulked for hours, maybe more. He really didn’t know how long they sulked, because he made a point never to see them again. But Julie wasn’t like that. She was reasonable.

“This reminds me of when we first met,” he said. “You were mad then too.”

“You were laughing then too,” she said.

“Yeah, well, guess you do that to me.” He reached under the blanket and checked her t-shirt, still damp against her skin. “Do you want my shirt?” he asked, his voice low.

“Better keep it on,” she said, her voice just as low.

Julie leaned against Kurt’s chest as he blotted her hair and told herself the shivers were from the water and not from the little curls of desire spreading through her body. She wasn’t really cold though, how could she be, not with the heat his body radiated.

And then he wasn’t using the blanket any more, only his warm fingers, and she tilted her neck as his hand stroked her cheek, as if memorizing her face.

“Love your dimples,” he said, his voice so low, it moved like liquid along the back of her neck. She quivered but knew it wasn’t from the cold. His touch had changed, turned sensual, and his thumb moved in a slow circle, sending tingling sensations along her skin to her breasts, and lower. A hum of pleasure escaped her throat.

“Julie,” he breathed, and the way he wrapped that word with such longing, such desire, made her breath skip. She tilted her head an inch, only an inch, but it was enough. His warm mouth lowered, and his tongue slid in her mouth, slow, smooth and seductive.

It was the most erotic kiss she’d ever experienced, and she pressed against him, needing to get closer but he kept a hand cupped around the back of her neck, the other splayed around her jaw, stroking, always stroking.

Her nipples tingled, and she made an impatient sound. Slipped a hand beneath his shirt, slid her fingers over that rippled chest. She hadn’t wanted to borrow his shirt earlier, hadn’t wanted to be tempted by his undoubtedly gorgeous chest, but she was way past that now. She arched up, pressing her breasts against him, and finally his hand brushed the bottom of her breast. Seconds later, his thumb grazed the tip of her nipple but so languidly she thought she’d explode.

She pulled back. His eyes were dark, unfathomable, the sun shadowing his face. “Touch me,” she said.

He whipped her shirt off then effortlessly flipped her onto the blanket, unhooking her bra in an easy motion that revealed years of practice. She felt a twinge of jealousy for those unknown women, but then his bold hands covered her breasts, and she stopped thinking. His mouth sucked gently at her nipple and she groaned and arched upward, until he obligingly cupped the other one. His knowing touch filled her with sensations, and she tilted her neck, reveling in the feel of his lips, his hands, the slight graze of his teeth.

His hand slipped into her panties, and she squirmed, but she really couldn’t move because his mouth was over his breast, and the stubble on his chin rubbed her skin, and it was so erotic she could only grip his shoulders.

And then he pulled away. Cool air brushed her chest as he leaned back. She heard his zipper, felt him reaching in his pocket, and he tossed some packets of condoms by her head. He was already rolling one on. Good. She hated this part, didn’t know if she should help or look away, and the whole thing felt awkward. Although he wasn’t a bit awkward, not like Joey who had struggled just trying to open the plastic.

And how many condoms had he brought? She twisted her head, blinking. Three? Good God. And then he was back over her, tugging down her panties, positioning himself above her.