Free Fool Me Twice by Mandy Hubbard Page B

he wants to be. “But maybe that’s just me.”
    “No, I know exactly what you mean.”
    Landon reaches out, playfully pushing my shoulder. “Okay, smart aleck. I get it. I’m being dumb.”
    “You are not!” I say, suddenly indignant. “I was serious. I get what you mean. Summer here exists outside reality. I think it’s because every day feels exactly the same, so it’s like the days last forever. You know, like how it must feel in prison.”
    He snorts under his breath and picks up his reins, which are far longer than mine, the loose end dangling down to his horse’s knees. He takes the end and gently flicks them toward my leg. “Exactly. Well, maybe it doesn’t feel like prison, though. But here, at the ranch, real life doesn’t exist.”
    I nod. Real life. It definitely exists. And if I forget it for toolong, I’ll be in big trouble. I’ll forget that this is all make-believe and I’ll fall for him all over again, like some lovesick dog who doesn’t know better.
    Screw that.
    “Yeah, anyway,” I say, ready for a change in subject. “Are you looking forward to the rodeo next weekend?”
    He nods. “Yeah. Wish there was some real competition, but it should still be fun.”
    “Definitely. Although I’m not exactly stoked about pole-bending. …”
    “You impressed me on the barrels today though. Have you been practicing after I go to bed every night?”
    I grin. “Something like that.”
    “Someday we should convince Mr. Ramsey to have a real rodeo at the end of the year. Invite some tough competition. Make it a big event.”
    “Why do you want a real competition?” I finally respond, “So you can blow them all away with your superior steer-wrestling skills?”
    “Hey, that was a one-time affair,” he says, flicking me gently with the reins again. Is he flirting? Wait, of course he’s flirting. I’m his girlfriend. “I own that event.”
    “Uh-huh,” I say, egging him on.
    “You say that like you don’t believe me!”
    “Oh, no, I totally believe you,” I say. “Mm-hmm. Mr. Steer-Wrestling King, riding alongside me just like the common folk.”
    He reaches out to poke me in the ribs. “I don’t know, I think you’re the impressive one, shaving entire seconds off your barrels time practically overnight.”
    “I know, inspired, right?” I say, hoping he can’t see the undercurrent of nervousness I get every time he points out the inconsistency.
    “Yeah, totally,” he says, and then his expression changes, along with the tone of his voice. “ ‘I am your number one fan.’”
    “Misery ,” I say. “You’re not going to break my legs and stick me in a remote cabin now, are you?”
    “Dang, I thought that one would be too subtle for you.” He grins. “But hey, I do have a cabin. …”
    “You have to catch me first!” I dig my heels into Zoey and she jumps forward.
    He’s still gathering his reins as I bolt away, and Zoey grunts as she lengthens her neck, elongating her stride and sprinting toward the rolling peak in front of us. Then I remember he’s not supposed to gallop, not supposed to risk another head injury so soon after the first, and I start to pull the reins, sitting back in my saddle. But then I hear the sounds behind me and know he’s forgotten too—or doesn’t care—so I lean forward again, urging her on.
    The wind whistles through my ears again, and all I can hear is that and my own heartbeat … plus the hooves pounding behind me. I don’t have to see him to know he’s picking up speed, but the trail narrows just ahead, so there’s no way for him to avoid the dust kicked up by Zoey’s hooves.
    I push Zoey faster and faster … and faster.
    The desert landscape blurs into a mess of brown and sage green, and Zoey’s ears flatten as she pushes into her top speed. I finally stand in the stirrups, tugging back on the reins. She resists for several strides, taking the bit in her teeth before finallytossing her head and slowing her gait, just as