Never Say Never (14 page)

“Are you all right?” Aiden asks, taking his arm out of mine and placing it on my waist instead. Warmth rushes through me when his fingers gently press into the soft flesh on my side.

“Yeah. I will be.” I turn to him. “Really.”

“Good,” he says. “But you know you don’t have to lie.”

I look at the barn. “I know. I will be in time.”

Neither of us speaks as we go to the back door, entering through the garage. Chrissy is still sleeping, stretched out on the couch, guarding the house like a champ. She barks at the doorbell, but only because Mom trained her to do that. Aiden goes into the bathroom and I fill the coffee pot with water. My phone rings and I dig it out of my hoodie pocket, wondering who the hell is calling me so early. It’s Lori. I raise an eyebrow and answer.

“Hello?”

“Dammit,” she sighs. “I was hoping you wouldn’t answer.”

“Then why did you call?”

“To see if you were in bed with Aiden.”

“Oh, sorry to disappoint.”

“Tell me everything,” she gushes.

“I can’t right now.” I plug the coffee pot in and turn it on.

“Why the hell not? I know it’s early, but you get up at the butt crack of dawn to feed the horses, so don’t even try, missy.”

“Why are you up?” I question. I pull a carton of eggs from the fridge. They expired eight days ago. Meh, it’s probably fine. Probably.

“I couldn’t sleep not knowing the details.”

The toilet flushes. Aiden will be out in just seconds.

“Hay, tell me, I’m dying to know!”

I smile. “I can’t tell you, Lori, because Aiden’s still here. I’ll call you when he leaves.” I hear her squeeing with excitement and Kit grumbling for her to shut the hell up before I end the call.

“What’s on the menu?” Aiden asks as he comes into the kitchen. He’s pushed his hair back. He looks like he just walked off a photoshoot…and he slept in a horse stall. I don’t want to look in a mirror until I’ve showered and brushed my hair.

“Uh,” I start. “French toast or pancakes. I’ve been putting off grocery shopping for a while now.” I wrinkle my nose. “I’m lazy.”

Aiden’s arms wrap around my waist as he steps close. “I don’t think you’re lazy. Crazy busy, yeah. But not lazy.”

“Thanks. I need to hear that.” I sigh and let the fridge close. I haven’t been grocery shopping because I have zero money for it. And if it came down to a meal for me or a meal for the horses, I’d go hungry for a while.

“French toast sounds good,” he says, dropping his lips to my neck. Tingles make their way through me and I twist in his arms. My breath catches in my chest, and I want to kiss him.

“What are you doing?” I blurt.

“I’m standing here with you,” he says slowly, giving me a look.

“No, that’s not what I mean. What are you doing with me?”

He hikes an eyebrow. “How is that not what you mean? I’m standing here…with you.”

I break out of his embrace. “Why?”

He shakes his head, his eyes not leaving mine. “I don’t know. I like being with you.”

That’s an even bigger “why.” I bite my lip and smile. “I know I’m not the type of girl you usually, uh, associate with.”

“Are you saying I have a type?”

Now it’s my turn to stare at him incredulously. “Thin, beautiful, busty. Oh, and rich and famous. I’m not any of those.”

He moves forward and puts his hands on my waist, avoiding the burns on my left side. “You do own mirrors, right? I don’t like boney women, so you’re wrong there. You are beautiful, and your tits are fantastic. And being rich and famous isn’t going to make me like you more or less.”

Oh, Aiden, what the hell are you doing? Stop saying such beautiful things that warm my heart and turn me on. “Then why do actors always date actors?”

He slides his hands around my back and pulls me in. “It’s a whole other world, and other actors get it. I’m busy—really busy—and I’m not home that much. If I dated an actress, she’d be busy doing her own shit while I was working on mine.”

“That makes sense. I never thought of it like that before.”

He shrugs. “There are unspoken rules in Hollywood too. I, um, haven’t been in it that long, you know, so I don’t know them all. Yet.” He stammers a bit as he talks, embarrassed to admit it. It must be difficult to be thrust into a world of A-listers with only a few years of experience. Wait, what? Am I really feeling sorry for him for rising to fame so quickly?

Aiden, what are you doing to me?

“French toast?” I say and go back to the fridge. He tells me about the movie he’s working on, and we laugh about outtakes and botched lines. He helps me clean up after we eat and walks with me back to the barn. He’s so perfect it terrifies me.

He goes into the foal’s stall, petting her and offering her another bottle while I change Phoenix’s padded bandages and treat her wounds. Then we let Benny, Sundance, and Shakespeare out and watch them race across the pasture.

“What about Phoenix?” Aiden asks, not looking away from the horses galloping through the grass.

“She’s not ready to go out there yet,” I say. “I let her in the dry lot, which is a smaller pasture with not much grass. She’s not strong enough physically to have that kind of room. If she went to the back of the pasture and got too weak or tied to come in, it could be the end. Plus, there are mountain lions out there that would love a weak horse.” It hurts my heart to keep her in the small pasture. I hate seeing her alone. I tried putting Shakespeare in with her, but he was too friendly and wanted to nuzzle her neck, which is covered in burns. I don’t trust the others, and I don’t trust Phoenix to be alone with the foal. For now, both had to be kept alone. Being alone is unnatural for horses. Hell, it is for anyone. But sometimes there is no other way.

“They probably love baby horses, too.”

I nod. “Yeah, and she doesn’t have a mom to protect her and teach her how to watch for those things.” My own words send a chill through me, and Aiden moves closer. “Eventually, she’ll learn. Shakespeare has fostered before.”

“Isn’t Shakespeare a dude?”

I laugh. “He is. I mean he’s good at teaching manners. Horses learn by watching other horses. It’s fascinating, actually, to just sit and watch them interact.”

I push off the fence and turn to Aiden. His gaze locks with mine, and I close the distance between us. His arms lock around my waist.

“There are really mountain lions around here?” he asks as he looks at the pasture.

“Yeah, but they don’t go after the horses that often. The healthy horses, I should say.”

“What do you do if one goes after the horses?”

“Hope that I’m home, first of all,” I say, lifting my arms and resting them on Aiden’s shoulders. “Then try to scare them off. If that doesn’t work…well, you know. There’s a rifle in the barn for a reason.”

“And you know how to use it?”

I laugh. “If you have a farm out here and you
don’t
know how to use a gun, you’re in trouble.”

“You’re kind of incredible,” he says with a smile. “Like a character from a movie. Women like you shouldn’t really exist, yet here you are, standing in front of me.”

Be still my heart
. Early morning sunlight pours down on us. Aiden moves his head down, and I know he’s going to kiss me. My heart lurches, and I don’t know if I should pull him to me or run away. I know exactly who he is, and I know how this will end. He won’t be here forever. He’ll go back to L.A., go to another location, and find ways to entertain himself between filming.

If I fall for him, it will be entirely his fault. His eyes close and his lips part. I want him to put those lips to mine, to drink me and make me feel. I want that kiss to linger, to remind me of how badly it will hurt when he leaves me.

He cradles my head and tips my chin up. Soft lips crush against mine, and I’m a goner. He pulls me in, tongue slipping past my lips. My breath escapes me, and I know I am most definitely falling, no matter how desperately I reach out to cling to something—anything—to keep me from plummeting off the edge of reason and logic and crashing into something I can never have, something that will never last. My heart skips a beat, and warmth flows through me. I tighten my arms around him, pulling him against me. He kisses me harder, mouth pressed against mine in desperation. He needs this as much as I do.

I’m falling for you, Aiden Shepherd. Please don’t catch me.

Chapter 12

Aiden left soon after we let the horses out. His manager kept calling, and he kept declining the calls. After the fifth one, he grumbled and answered, then told me had to leave for a conference call and something about being the new face of some designer brand. He kissed me goodbye before getting in the car, and it was the same knee-buckling, panty-melting kiss from before.

Now I’m in the barn, cleaning stalls and feeling a little love-struck. I remind myself that this isn’t going to last. Aiden told me more than once he’s bored between scenes. He needs something to do, and someone to fill his time. And though he doesn’t say it, I can tell he doesn’t like being alone. He’s hard to read, and knowing he’s a damn good actor makes it even harder. It would be easy for him to fake anything.

One minute he’s deep and emotional—poetic, even. Then he’s cocky and knows he’s hot shit.

“It shouldn’t matter,” I tell Phoenix. She’s standing in the back of her stall with her head down. The muscles in her face are tight and her lips are pressed together, flattening her chin. She’s in pain. I set the pitchfork down and leave Sundance’s stall to go in with her.

Her ears, which are lowered, twitch ever so slightly when I slide the stall door open. She doesn’t turn her head to look at me. The little bit of happiness I had felt slips away.

“Hey, girl,” I say and slowly move closer. Her grain hasn’t been touched, which means she hasn’t gotten any of her pain medicine that was crushed up and hidden in applesauce. “Are you hungry, sweet pea?” I ask. Maybe the pills, though mixed in, turned her off. I quickly go to the feed bins and scoop more grain into a clean bucket. I set it down and step away.

Nothing.

She shows no interest. Then I notice her water is still full…and I didn’t have to fill it this morning. My stomach twists. I finish cleaning stalls, peeking at Phoenix in hopes I’d see her nibbling at her grain. But she’s still standing in the back of her stall, looking so miserable it breaks my heart.

I mix up another meal for the foal and pour it in a bucket, hanging it in the stall. She comes over and sniffs at it, then takes a drink.
Thank God.
I smile.

“There you go, baby. It’s the same as the bottle, and you can have as much as you want, anytime you want.” She takes another drink then comes to nuzzle me, wiping milk all over my shirt. I wrap my arms around her. “You’re going to be okay, aren’t you, baby?” I take her out in a small paddock and watch her run and prance. How anyone could throw away such a beautiful life is beyond me. The world is filled with horrible people. That is one of the many reasons I love horses so much, and not everyone gets that.

Horses don’t judge. They don’t hate, don’t discriminate. They don’t spend their lives holding grudges and trying to outdo one another. Why can’t people be more like that?

I go back into the barn to check on Phoenix. She’s still standing there, still not eating. I run inside and bring back the bottle of maple syrup from breakfast. I pour some on her grain and slide the dish over. She lowers her head.
Yes, please eat!
Her nostrils flare as she inhales. I hold my breath and watch, mentally begging her to eat. She raises her head, crushing me. Then she lowers it again and nibbles at the syrup before digging in.

I’m still worried. She needs to eat a protein-rich diet in order to heal, and she’s just picking at her hay and grain. Maybe it’s because of the pain? It’s a cycle, then—not eating because of the pain, and not getting pain meds because she’s not eating. I go into the tack room to call Dr. Wells and see I have a text message from Lori.

Lori:
OMFG look at Aiden’s Insty NOW!!!!

Great. Did he post that horrible photo? Part of me is frantic to see it, but part of me doesn’t even want to know. Ignorance is bliss, right?  I already follow him on Instagram; he posts a lot of shirtless pictures of himself. Call me shallow, but I like to look at them. Lori even photoshopped me into one as a joke once and posted it on Facebook.

Oh, God. I
never
thought I’d be—what were we? Just friends—a love interest, perhaps—with Aiden. Never, ever. I still don’t believe it. The only thing making this all seem real is knowing my heart is likely to get broken in the end.

I bite my lip and log into Instagram. I have to scroll through a few other posts before I see it, see the picture of Aiden and me standing next to the foal. My hair is up in a messy ponytail. I’m holding the bottle with one hand, and the other is around the foal. I’m turned toward Aiden, a slight smile on my face. I scrutinize myself right away. My eyes are narrowed a bit, and my skin is uneven. My hair is a mess, and the sweatshirt doesn’t show any figure.