He shrugged. “I know.” Taking my hand again, he carefully led me through the high grass, toward the edges of the split-rail fence. “Be careful. There’s a damn groundhog or a family of them living on this farm. Holes everywhere.”
“Okay.” I wasn’t thinking about farms or groundhogs. Focused on the weight and feel of his hand wrapped firmly around mine, I had little room in my mind to worry about holes in the ground.
He was quiet as he guided me toward the gate in the split rail. Letting go of my hand, he unhooked the lock. Hinges groaned as the metal gates swung open.
I hesitated. “I don’t know about this.”
An easy grin appeared as he swaggered up to where I stood. “Tess, come on. You said you trust me.”
Shifting my weight from foot to foot, I stared over his shoulder. At the other end of the large pen, two horses grazed, their black tails flicking idly. “I do trust you.”
“Then come with me.”
One of the horses, its coat a mixture of black and white, reared its massive head. It turned, angling its muzzle toward our side of the fence. Neither of the horses had saddles on.
“They’re not going to trample you to death.” He took my hand again. “And I don’t even expect you to get on one.”
My chin jerked up. “You don’t?”
He smiled slightly as he caught a piece of hair that blew across my face, tucking it back. “No. This is a horse meet and greet.”
“I’ve never done a horse meet and greet before.”
“You’re going to love them.” He pulled me forward, and my lips twitched. “They really are gentle. Jack’s been on them a million times, and if I thought they were dangerous, he wouldn’t be anywhere near them.”
That was a good point. “Okay,” I said, taking a deep breath. “Let’s do this.”
He didn’t give me a chance to second-guess myself. Within seconds we were inside the pen. Another steel bucket sat on the ground, full of grain. “I’m going to call them over, okay? They’re going to come flying. It’s close to feeding time. So be ready.”
Throat tight, I nodded.
My fear seemed a little unreasonable up until Jase lifted two fingers to his perfectly formed mouth and let loose a high-pitched whistle. The horses’ heads jerked up and then they took off, their hooves pounding on the beaten earth, racing straight for us.
Holy crap.
I took a step back, hitting an unmovable wall of muscle that was Jase and bouncing off. An arm wrapped around my waist from behind when I started to move away, keeping me firmly in place, his front pressed to my back.
“It’s okay.” His breath was warm against my ear, and I was torn between being freaked out over the dinosaurs heading our way and freaked out over the fact I was in Jase’s arms. “You’re doing great.”
I gripped his arm as I squeezed my eyes shut. My heart worked overtime, jumping around in my chest as the thunder of the hooves grew closer, shaking the ground. A sudden plume of dust filled the air and a warm, wet breeze caressed my face. I pressed back against Jase, straining away.
“You got a visitor, Tess.” He rested his chin atop my head, which caused my pulse to try to outrun my heart. “Two of them to be exact.”
“Okay.”
There was a pause. “Are your eyes closed?”
“No.”
His chin slid off my head and then his chest rumbled as he laughed. “Your eyes are closed.” He laughed again. “Open them up.”
Cursing under my breath, I pried one eye open and then jerked against him. His arm tightened. “Oh wow . . .”
The black-and-white horse was the closest, standing mere feet away from me. The brown one wasn’t too far, shaking its head and making soft snorts. My eyes were wide as they bounced between the two creatures. “They’re not carnivorous, right? Because at their size, they could eat me.”
Jase laughed deeply as his hand shifted up, resting in the center of my stomach, just below my breasts. “Horses do not eat people, you little idiot.”
I started, eyes narrowing. “There’s always a first.”
The lips pulled back on the black-and-white horse as if it was smirking at me.
“This one right here? Mr. Friendly? Jack calls him Bubba One,” he said in a quiet, calming voice. But air hitched in my throat when his thumb moved in a slow circle over the thin material of my tank top, hitting against the wire in my bra. “And the brown one is Bubba Two.”
Mouth dry, I wetted my lips. “That’s good for remembering names.”
He chuckled as his pinkie and forefinger started to move up and down, reaching my belly button and then sliding back up. It was almost as if he was unaware of what he was doing, or the electrifying response the tiny motions were dragging out of me. “I think so too, but his real name is Lightning.”
Said horse shook his head, tossing the shaggy mane.
“Lightning seems to be a more suitable name,” I admitted, relaxing as the seconds passed. Maybe that was his intention. Distract me with the soft, almost innocent touches. It was working. “What about Bubba Two?”