Free Wild for the Girl by Starr Ambrose

other night, the one with the . . . ?” He made an expansive motion in front of his chest. “Erin? No, Erica.”
    Beth was already thumbing her phone as they walked, retrieving the information. T.J. took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, letting the lingering hatred from Beth’s attack dissipate with it.
    The girl was sick. Obsessed and delusional for sure. Tad probably had no clue, and thought he was incredibly lucky to have such a devoted assistant. It was going to be difficult to convince him to send Beth away during his final lessons. But T.J. would have to find a way. Her job was to point out everything Tad did wrong, and in Beth’s eyes that would be uncalled-for criticism.
    She just hoped vengeance wasn’t another one of Beth’s little problems.

 
    8
    Sweat clung to both T.J. and her horse as she walked him back to the barn. Ninety-degree days were rare at this altitude, but they were close to it today, and both she and Black Jack were wrung out from the ride. A drenching cold rain would be welcome right now, the kind that blew through frequently in the afternoons, but there was no sign of one in the clear blue sky.
    “You don’t mind sharing the wash stall with me, do you, fella?” She ran a hand over the slick black hair on Jack’s neck, then pulled at her cotton shirt, billowing the front in and out in hopes of getting more air circulating beneath it. Her sports bra stuck to her like a second skin, thick and damp with sweat. Her jeans clung, too, and she couldn’t wait to switch them for the clean pair in the office.
    Her riding boots were coming off as soon as possible, even if she had to walk through the barn barefoot. Unsnapping the chin strap on her safety helmet, she pulled it off, shaking the hair that lay plastered to her head. It didn’t help. She could fix that soon enough—horse shampoo would do just fine for her hair. The best part would be holding the hose over her head and letting the cold water pour down.
    “How about I hose you down first,” she told Jack, anticipating the cool water, “then you hose me. Then we’ll shampoo all that sweat and dirt off you, head to tail, then you can do the same for me, but just my head—”
    “I’ll take you up on that.”
    She looked up and saw Reese. She stopped dead, registering the jarring reality—she looked like hell and probably smelled just as bad.
    “Hi.” She spared a moment for an appreciative look at what he did for denim and a simple cotton shirt. “Aren’t you supposed to be working?”
    “It’s past quitting time and I wanted to see you.” He reached for her, and she put a hand up to his chest in sudden panic, holding him back. “Reese! I smell like a horse!”
    “I don’t care.” He ignored her hand and pushed closer, trapping her arm between them and taking her mouth in a delicious kiss that sent even more heat racing through her body. “I think I like the smell of horses,” he murmured, nuzzling her neck.
    She laughed and batted him off. “Cut it out, I need a shower.”
    Something sparked to life in his eyes, but instead of the wiseass comment she expected, he rubbed a hand over Jack’s neck, massaging the poll just behind his ears. “Who’s this handsome guy?”
    “Jack. Black Jack on his papers. His breeder owned a casino.”
    Reese eyed him, head to hoof and down the length of his body, and she had the impression he knew what to look for. “He’s magnificent. Am I missing something? What’s wrong with him?”
    “Nothing!”
    “Then how did we ever afford a horse like this for trail rides?”
    “You didn’t. He’s not yours. I mean he’s not your dad’s,” she corrected, trying not to forget that Reese wasn’t staying. “He’s mine. I’ve been training him for the past few months, and I spend so much time here every day that I decided to keep him here until I’m done with this job.”
    Reese stroked his hand down Jack’s face, and the horse lowered his head, rubbing his itchy face