Nothing but Trouble

Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14

CONNOR RAISED A dark eyebrow at Jenny, questioning.

“Another refugee from the gruesome twosome,” she said.

A bubble of laughter escaped before I could tamp it down. “Gruesome twosome?”

“Connor’s idea, but I thought it was appropriate.”

“I’ve been calling them the Uglies. They’re polished on the outside, but not so nice on the inside.”

It was Connor’s turn to chuckle. “Yeah, you got that right.”

“Drink?” Jenny asked.

“I think I need one.”

“What’s your poison?”

“White wine, if you have any?”

I stood in the lounge, not sure what to do with myself. As well as the squashy leather sofa, there were two armchairs, but one of them had a saddle on it. If I took the other side of the sofa, Connor might suspect I liked him, but if I sat in the chair, would he think I didn’t? What should I do?

I’d never been in this situation before. When I met Terry, I wasn’t looking for a date—we'd simply got talking. Later, he’d claimed fate pushed us together.

Fate, or perhaps stupidity.

Jenny made my decision for me in the end when she handed Connor a can of cola and me a large glass of wine then flopped back into the vacant chair.

“It’s been a long day,” she said.

I gingerly perched on the sofa, careful not to spill my drink. Connor popped the top on his, took a slug, and resumed channel surfing.

“Any preferences?” he asked.

“No slushy romance,” said Jenny. “And no zombies. They give me nightmares.”

“Ella?”

“Uh, I don’t mind.” I didn’t watch many movies, and I always picked rom-coms with happy endings, but I didn’t want to cause a fuss.

We watched an action film. Well, Connor and Jenny watched an action film while I snuck glances at Connor out of the corner of my eye, thankful Jenny switched the light off before she sat down so she could see the screen better.

When the closing credits rolled, Connor yawned and stretched, his T-shirt rising up to give me a glimpse of the muscles that Felicity had so admired. I tried to count, but I’d only got to four when he lowered his arms again.

“What was that?” Connor asked.

“What was what?”

“It sounded like you sighed?”

“Oh, er, I’m just tired.” Oops.

“Connor, will you walk Ella back to the barn?” Jenny said.

“I’ll be okay on my own.”

It was nice of her to offer his services, but if I spent any more time near him I’d end up having a hot flush. What was wrong with me? He wasn’t my type at all, but he still did funny things to my insides that I couldn’t control.

“No, it’s dark out, and you’ve had three glasses of wine,” she said.

Connor heaved himself to his feet. “I’ll do it.” His tone left no room for argument.

“Alrighty then.” Did I just say that? Way to go, Ella. How to make yourself sound like an i***t in two easy words. I could have accepted graciously, but instead I chose to imitate Ace Ventura.

Connor stuck his feet into a pair of boots in the hallway then opened the front door for me. I shivered as I stepped outside. The sky was clear, and the temperature had dropped a few degrees since I arrived.

A couple of seconds later, a jacket settled over my shoulders.

“You look cold,” Connor said, shrugging. He hadn’t even put a sweater on, and I could tell he was chilly by his pointy, er, I really shouldn’t be looking there. My gaze dropped downwards. Not there, either. Ella! Behave!

I forced my eyes up to his face. “Thank you.”

Silence stretched between us as we covered the short distance back to the barn. Thankfully it was dark and quiet when we arrived, with no sign of the Uglies. I guess they got bored after Project Runway.

Connor held the door open once more, and I brushed against him as I walked through, the flimsy contact stroking fire over my skin. A shiver ran through me again, and this time it wasn’t from the cold.

“Keep the jacket,” Connor said. “I’ll pick it up tomorrow.”

Keep it? I ended up sleeping in it, with Connor’s sweet musk wrapped around me like a blanket.

It was the wine, I told myself when the alarm woke me up at seven the next morning. That was why I’d behaved like a lovesick schoolgirl the night before. There was simply no other explanation for it.

I went to roll out of bed, but my head had other ideas. The instant I moved a fireworks display started, lights flashing behind my eyes while a headache pounded along in time.

The groan that left my lips didn’t even sound human. How big had those glasses of wine been? Maybe a few more minutes of sleep would help? Yes, that was the answer. I rolled over and closed my eyes.

A few minutes later the pounding started again. I shook my head, trying to clear it, but it carried on, and white-hot needles of pain spread through my temples.

“Ella, what are you doing in there?” came Connor’s muffled voice. “It’s nine thirty.”

Wha-wha-what? I looked at my watch. Holy hell, I’d overslept by two and a half hours!

Energy I didn’t know I had made me leap out of bed, and before I’d had time to think, I yanked the door open.

“I’m sorry, I overslept.”

He of course looked as if he’d just stepped out of a photoshoot for an equestrian clothing catalogue. “I got that. Are you using my jacket as pyjamas?”

My blush started at my toes and rose up my body faster than I could blink. I looked down, trying to make out that it was as much of a surprise to me as it was to him. “Uh, yes?”

His only answer was, “Babe,” then he walked away, chuckling.

What did that mean?

I dragged myself into the shower and turned it on cold in an attempt to both wake myself up and cool my overheating libido. It worked on one of those counts.

Connor was sitting at the kitchen table when I made it out of my room, and he slid a cup of coffee over.

“My hero,” I said, trying to sound perkier than I felt.

He glanced up at me. “You’ve got your sweater on inside out.”

Was it possible to have one day, just one day, where I didn’t make a fool of myself in front of this man?

At least riding went a bit better. I was getting reasonably proficient at walking and trotting now, at least if you didn’t put me side by side with somebody who could actually ride.

I thought we were finished when Connor gave a grin I didn’t like very much. “You ready for a canter?”

“Is ‘no’ an acceptable answer?”

He gave me a sharp look. Guess not.

“When you get to the next corner, go into sitting trot, press your inside leg on the girth and slide your outside leg back. You might want to hold onto the saddle with one hand.”

Might? I gripped it so hard I was amazed it didn’t crumble, and when I did as he said, there was a lurch as Folly leapt forward. My free arm flapped as I bounced around, and while Connor laughed I somehow pulled Folly to a stop.

“What’s so funny?”

“You looked like you were doing the funky chicken.”

I put my hands on my hips. “And you didn’t the first time you tried cantering? I thought I was going to be catapulted right over the fence.”

“You look cute when you get all indignant. Now have another go.”

I didn’t know whether to melt at him calling me cute or panic at the idea of having to do it all over again. What I needed was Velcro, to stick my ass to the saddle, my elbows to my sides, and my stupid thoughts at the back of my churning mind.

Without it, I concentrated hard on pinning my arms down as Folly popped into canter again, and managed to keep them reasonably still. The only problem was, my legs started jumping around like a demented marionette instead. Honestly, this was impossible.

“Try again,” was all Connor said.

If he hadn’t been there, I’d have given up, but he was so I didn’t, and by the end of the afternoon I’d managed to do a lap of the arena without holding on.

“Did you see that?”

“Couldn’t miss it, babe. You were squealing the whole way round.”

“I was?” I hadn’t even noticed. Were my ears faulty?

He chuckled to himself as he walked off. “Yeah, cute,” I was sure I heard him say.

Dinner was a tedious affair. Jenny and I made small talk while Annabel and Felicity yacked away at the tops of their voices about their ambitions to ride in Horse of the Year Show. When we’d finished, I was ready to make a dash for my room when Jenny grabbed hold of my wrist.

“We’re popping out for a quick drink, if you want to join us?”

The sensible option would have been to shake my head, mumble an excuse, and go back to my novel. A headache, tiredness, feeling a little bit queasy—anything, in fact. But when Jenny said “we” I assumed she meant Connor, and so the dumb part of me overruled.

Stupid, stupid me.