“You’re making that up. How would your father even enforce such a thing?”
“I’m not lying. Ask around. And anyway, Tiny felt so bad about nearly crushing that poor horse, he’s willing to do whatever he’s told. Lucky for me, because for the moment, I’m his boss and I’m the one telling him what to do.”
Ryan was beginning to realize life on this island did not run quite the same as life back in Sacramento. “What’s the rest of your crew like?”
“Unique. Unruly. But sincere. I think they’re all intent on doing their best work. You’d kind of have to meet them to really get the true flavor.”
“Maybe that can be arranged? I’d like to see the place. I do know a thing or two about building and remodeling. I’d be happy to throw in a few suggestions.” He hadn’t meant to make such an offer, but now that it was out there, he didn’t regret it.
Emily’s nod was slow and deliberate. “Hmm. I’m on a pretty tight budget if you’re asking me to hire you as a consultant. I know how you Taggerts are about money, and I wouldn’t want you to think I was taking advantage of your expertise.” Her words could have been an insult, but her smile said otherwise. She was teasing him, and he liked it.
“No charge for my expert services,” he said. “Strictly pro boner.”
What? Shit.
He slapped a hand over his mouth and glanced at Chloe. Fortunately, she had her earbuds in, not that she would have been able to hear him over her mother’s laughter. He smiled wide.
“I meant pro bono. The boner just slipped out. I mean . . . um . . . shit.”
Heat, like another massive horse fart, radiated over his skin. What the hell had he just said?
“That’s some real selfless charity work there, Ryan,” she sputtered out between giggles, and suddenly he was laughing right along with her. Pro boner? Really?
“Well, what can I say? I’m a real giver.”
Chapter 16
Fifteen minutes later they reached the shoreline near Potter’s Pointe. The woods receded to reveal a grassy area with a few picnic tables, a public restroom, and a drinking fountain. The gray clouds had given way to glorious afternoon sunshine, and the breeze over the water was a nice break from the muggy stillness of the woods.
“This is Potter’s Pointe,” Emily said. “The spot where the British landed, causing Chief Eagle Feather to ride naked through the town warning the Americans, or so the story goes. I’m not sure there’s much truth to it, but if you ask our historical committee, they will quite emphatically defend it.”
“I’m thirsty, Mom. Can I get a drink?” Chloe asked, pointing at the fountain.
“Whoa! What the . . . Whoa!” Tag’s exclamation rang out, and Emily turned just in time to watch Periwinkle lie down right in the middle of the grass and roll to her side. Tag landed with a grunt and a thud, his feet slipping from the too-short stirrups. He lay on the ground as his horse, just as easy as she pleased, popped right back up.
“What the hell?” Ryan said breathlessly. “Dad, are you okay?”
“Tag?” Lilly slid off her horse and reached his side before Emily could even comprehend what had just happened. “Are you okay?” Lilly echoed Ryan’s question.
He sat up and started to pull off his helmet. “Um, I’m fine. I’m just not sure what happened. She just laid down all of a sudden.”
“You sure you’re not hurt?” Lilly asked.
“Um, guys?” Chloe said. “Where is she going?”
Emily’s gaze traveled from Tag to where Chloe was pointing, and there was Periwinkle, wading straight into the water. In seconds she was belly deep in Lake Huron and getting herself a drink. Emily coughed over a chuckle. That’s why Percy told them to head to this spot. He must have assumed the horse would pull this kind of prank. Although it was a little risky since that horse could have rolled right over Tag’s leg. Lilly would never forgive her if Emily broke her boyfriend.
“That’s legit messed up,” said Chloe, pulling out her phone to photo-document the event with various apps.
“You didn’t hurt your leg, did you?” Lilly said. “She didn’t land on you, right?”
Tag finally unfastened his helmet, tossing it on the grass beside him. “No, I’m fine. The only thing bruised is my ego.” He chuckled. “I did not know horses ever did that.”
“Well, they’re sure not supposed to! I’m going to have a word with that Percy O’Keefe when we get back. Are you sure you’re okay?” Lilly asked again.
“Yes, I’m fine. Stop fussing.” He stood and rubbed his hip, tilting to the left a bit before straightening up.
“Um, should somebody go get that horse out of the lake?” Chloe asked. “She’s going kind of deep.”
Ryan clambered down from Duke’s back and handed the reins to Emily. “I’ll go get her.”
“Do you have your phone?” she asked.
“We don’t need to call anyone. I can go get her,” Ryan responded.
“No, I mean you don’t want to go in the water with your phone.”
“What? Oh, yeah. Right. Not waterproof. Thanks.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and handed it her. She resisted the urge to see if there was a passcode. Because it might be kind of fun to peek into Ryan Taggert’s virtual black book. Maybe see a few photos of girlfriends, or just to see what stuff he found important enough to photograph. So maybe she just oh-so-accidentally bumped that button with her thumb . . . yeah, there was a passcode.
“I can get her, Ryan. She’s my horse,” Tag said, taking a step and listing again. Lilly took his arm, and he let her.
“I got her, Dad.” Ryan hurried toward the shoreline.
“Shoes!” Emily shouted, and Ryan kicked them off just before hitting the water. She watched as he waded in chest deep until he finally reached the horse, but Periwinkle seemed none too interested in coming back. Ryan tugged and cajoled and even slipped once and went all the way underwater, only to come up sputtering and shaking the water from his short hair. “Come on, you rotten horse,” he muttered.
This day was supposed to be rough on Tag, but so far Ryan seemed to have gotten the worst of it. Emily and Chloe had dismounted by the time he finally made it back to shore with a drenched and seemingly reluctant mare behind him. Ryan was, of course, soaking wet, too, his gray T-shirt now molding to all those muscles Emily had suspected were under there. She was right. There they were. This was not a man who spent his time on the sofa, and Emily found herself mentally tabulating how long it had been since she’d last had sex.