HE DOES. I WILL EXPLAIN LATER.
Duke stretched his nose forward for another nuzzle with Periwinkle’s ass, and much to Ryan’s dismay, the horse chose that exact moment to blow the biggest, loudest, horsiest fart imaginable. A colonic breeze reeking of hot, musty grass hit him in the face like exhaust fumes. Nonplussed and undeterred, his own horse walked right into it. And then it happened about eight more times. Loud, squeaky, anus-flapping farts, until at last Periwinkle unloaded a dozen road apples directly in front of them. Ryan’s eyes watered as much from the heat as from the velocity. How did horses even do that? Walk and poop at the same time? It was efficient, really. If dudes could do that, he could totally picture Bryce trying to multitask in just such a fashion. He texted his brother again.
DAD’S HORSE IS A GAS BAG AND KEEPS FARTING AT ME.
GOT ANY MATCHES?
IF I LIT A MATCH RIGHT NOW, THIS ENTIRE FOREST WOULD BLOW UP LIKE ONE GIANT FIREBALL. EACH FART LASTS TEN FULL SECONDS. YOU COULD FLY A HOT AIR BALLOON WITH THIS MUCH GAS.
THAT IS NOT A BALLOON I WOULD EVER RIDE IN.
GOT TO GO. HAVE TO CLEAN MY SUNGLASSES BECAUSE I’M PRETTY SURE THERE IS HORSE SHIT ON THEM. YOU’RE AN ASSHOLE.
WHY AM I AN ASSHOLE BECAUSE YOU GOT HORSE SHIT ON YOUR SUNGLASSES?
NO CONNECTION. YOU WERE AN ASSHOLE WAY BEFORE I GOT HORSE SHIT ON MY GLASSES. I’LL CALL YOU LATER.
He tucked his phone back in his pocket and pulled off his glasses to wipe them on his shirt, telling himself it was just a smudge and not equine organic matter from Periwinkle’s ass.
“She’s really not very cooperative,” Tag said as his horse stepped from the path and just suddenly stopped. Duke bumped into her, his face pressed against her butt, and Ryan dropped his glasses.
“Shit. Oh, I mean, shoot.”
Chloe rolled her eyes. “Oh, like I haven’t heard worse.”
“Sit tight, Ryan. I’ll get them.” Lilly was off her horse and handing him his glasses before he could even comment.
“Thanks,” he said, taking them from her hand.
“You’re welcome.”
Periwinkle sidestepped, bumping Duke in the nose, which was the horse’s own damn fault because he was being quite persistent. Clearly Duke was an ass man.
“Seriously, Ryan,” Tag said. “Could you please back up?”
“Emily, let’s change up the order here, okay? I’ll take the lead with Tag, Chloe can go in the middle, and you and Ryan bring up the rear,” Lilly said.
“I think that’s what my horse has been trying to do,” Ryan said.
Minutes later Lilly and Tag were in the front, Chloe was in the middle, and Emily rode beside him. That was a nice turn of events. She looked completely at ease on that horse, holding the reins in one hand while the other rested casually on her thigh. Today she wore jeans and a red tank top, and Ryan couldn’t help but wonder just how many versions of her there were. The white business suit Emily, carefree sundress Emily, and now cowgirl Emily. Was there a seductress Emily in there somewhere? If so, he’d very much like to meet her. The idea of her in some slinky nightie, or better yet, wearing nothing at all, hit him hard. His attraction to her was just not helpful. Yet it seemed unavoidable.
“A word of warning,” he said, clearing his throat. “Periwinkle seems to be having some gastrointestinal distress, so I’m not sure you want to be downwind of her.” Periwinkle responded to his comment with another robust fart. “See what I mean?”
Emily smiled. “Yeah, horses will do that. You get used to it.”
“I don’t particularly want to get used to it. In Sacramento we have these newfangled inventions called automobiles. You know, horseless carriages? They’re all the rage.”
A tiny dimple appeared near the corner of her mouth. “Just a fad, I’m sure. I’ve heard the smog and pollution on the freeways is so not pleasant.”
“True, but then again, I don’t usually have my face a mere two feet behind a tailpipe.” He smiled at her, hoping to look clever, then grabbed onto the pommel of his saddle as Duke veered from the path again, letting a thick branch wallop him in the arm. “And call me crazy, but it seems like this horse is doing that on purpose.”
Emily nodded, her smile staying right in place. “You’re not crazy. He’s totally doing it on purpose.”
“Why? Why would he do that?”
“If you had somebody straddling you, wouldn’t you be trying to get them off?”
He let that sink in for a second before responding. “I guess I’d sure give it my best shot, depending on who she was and how much fun we were having.”
The blush started at the neckline of that little tank top and floated its way upward until her cheeks were bright crimson, but her smile was discreet. She gave her head a little shake. “Ryan Taggert, the things you say.”
“Sorry, I couldn’t resist,” he said, then for the sake of his own sanity, he quickly changed the subject. “So, how goes the renovation at your grandmother’s cottage?”
She rolled her eyes and looked skyward at his question in a move that reminded him of Chloe. “It’s going to be like running a marathon at a sprinter’s pace. Everything needs updating, I have about eight weeks to make it happen, and my foreman is on a tether.”
“A tether? For what?”
“Drunk riding.”
Ryan couldn’t contain his chuckle. “Drunk riding? How is that even possible? Is it even possible?”
“It’s totally possible. Apparently he and one of the other guys on my crew got drunk and broke into his neighbor’s barn, stole a horse, and tried to ride it. They were allegedly going to the store for more beer but, you know, thought biking it would be irresponsible.”
“Drunk riding. So I guess that’s . . . an RUI?”
She dipped her head as she laughed, making that ponytail sway. “An RUI and grand theft equine, I suppose. Fortunately for Tiny—that’s his name, Tiny, even though he’s not remotely tiny. Fortunately for him, the horse’s owner did not press charges for the borrowing of the pony, but my dad still arrested him for drunk and disorderly.”
Ryan thought about this for a moment. “So, wait a minute. He’s got the tether, but if it allows him to move around the island, how does that stop him from drinking and stealing horses again?”
Emily’s smiled widened. “Well, turns out it’s not really so much a tether as it is an electric dog collar. If he gets too close to the barn that was the scene of the crime, he gets shocked in the leg.”
“You are making that up.” She must be making that up.
“No, I’m not. We have our own brand of justice here on the island.” She winked at him, and he squeezed the pommel again, wishing he could have a few minutes alone. It was going to be another cold shower for him when this day was over.