Beauty and the Brit (22 page)

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Authors: Lizbeth Selvig

Tags: #Itzy, #Kickass.to

BOOK: Beauty and the Brit
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Bridge Creek’s cross-country course ran through twenty acres of rolling and wooded fields and was filled with unique and sometimes frighteningly massive solid obstacles. David and Andy worked like a pair of surgeons, tightening wobbly legs on oversized picnic tables, replacing slats on an inclined fence he called a tiger trap, and securing giant ropes on a log that hung over a two-foot-deep ditch.

Andy, who, just as in the barn, moved with a limp and sometimes needed to be reminded what he’d been asked to fetch, brought out the best in David’s patience and humor. Rio wondered what his story was but still didn’t feel comfortable asking. Fred followed them gallantly, never far from his owner, never averse to a random belly or ear scratching.

Four hours passed in a flash, and when David announced they were nearly done, Rio was assailed by disappointment.

“The water complex is all that’s left,” he said. “What do you think, Andy? Should we take our lives in our hands and let Rio drive this last bit?”

She’d been nagging them for the last hour to let her behind the wheel.

“I dunno. She might be a worse driver than I am.”

“Aw, c’mon,” she groused. “Just because you drive like you have a wooden leg.”

Dead silence enveloped the three of them. David and Andy exchanged pained grimaces, but just as Rio was about to panic, the pair burst into laughter.

“I thought you knew,” Andy said. “I don’t have a wooden leg, it’s titanium.”

He pulled up the hem of his jeans and exposed the shaft of a prosthetic leg rising from his work boot. Rio nearly sank to the ground in embarrassment.

“Oh God, Andy, I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t know.” Tears beaded in her eyes.

“It’s okay, Rio,” he said in his deliberate speech. “Really. You didn’t say nothin’ wrong. I like it when people tease me like I’m just a normal guy.”

“You are a normal guy, Andy. Oh jeez, I . . . I’m really sorry.”

She was. She’d had no clue he was missing a limb and had never thought to ask kindly if there was anything she should know or do to help or—

“Hey, love, don’t cry.”

Strong, sun-heated arms came around her, and full-fledged tears rolled down her cheeks. David held her and chuckled, the sound reverberating beneath her ear. Andy patted her awkwardly on the shoulder.

“Don’t you dare feel sorry for this jammy old dogsbody. I pay him a bloody fortune, and even though he’s worth every cent, he does live the life o’ Riley.”

Rio pulled away and wiped her face, remnants of embarrassment warming her face faster than the sun had been doing all morning. “I have no idea what you just said.”

Andy laughed. “He’s insulting me and complimenting me all at the same time. I’m used to it.”

“Don’t you dare insult him.” Rio punched David lightly in the arm. “I just did it plenty well all by myself.”

“Neither of us insulted him. A dogsbody is an old-fashioned term for a gofer. Andy does my bidding regularly. And jammy just means lucky. He’s dead lucky to have me, I can tell you that right now.”

“I let him think that. He’d be lost without me and my wooden leg.”

The two growled and threw a couple of fake punches at each other. Rio’s heart melted a little at the obvious affection.

“Don’t you tease me,” she said. “I feel bad enough.”

“We told you not to,” Andy said. “If you want to beat yourself up you can, but don’t blame us.”

That was when she understood that although Andy spoke slowly and sometimes missed a beat, he was far from stupid.

“Fine. I no longer feel bad. Do I get to drive?”

“I’ve got both my good arms,” Andy replied. “I can hang on tight enough.”

“I’ll hunker down with the tools in the back. Should be safe enough unless a hammer gets loose and cracks the old loaf.”

“Why are you talking like such a foreigner all of a sudden?” Rio slid into the driver’s seat and turned the key. The Gator growled to life like a high-end lawn mower. “You’re usually understandable.”

“Trying to impress the pretty bird,” he said, and gave her neck a private little squeeze. “Is it working?”

Shivers chased each other down her back as David swung himself gracefully into the small bed of the utility vehicle. She swallowed. Everything he did was graceful. His legs beneath his worn jeans were powerful and athletic. His arms were buff but not bulky. He moved like an agile pack leader out here—confident, strong, not as intimidating as a wolf, but lithe and smart like a coyote.

“The water complex is right over the hill,” he said. “Onward, driver.”

The Gator jerked at her first unsuccessful attempt to finesse the accelerator. Andy crossed himself. David quietly muttered, “Our Father, which art in heaven.” Rio jerked the accelerator again, purposely, and laughed so hard she snorted. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been part of such unabashed and genuine teasing. The lightness threatened to lift her right out of the seat.

The water complex was a massive pond with crazy banks, beachlike edges, and jumps of different heights placed all around the sides. In the middle of the water stood a jump built to look like a suspension bridge. The whole thing was probably a hundred feet in diameter. Rio stopped where David indicated and sat back.

“Now, this jump is intimidating.”

“Nah,” he replied. “Not from the back of a horse.”

“You said that far too casually.” Rio climbed out of the seat. “What do we do here?”

“Make sure the log jumps haven’t come loose. Check the banks, make sure the reveting is tight. Then we can go back for late lunch.”

“I’m all for that,” she said.

“You’re a natural ranch hand, aren’t you?” he asked. “We’ve been out here a long time with only water to drink. Not a peep or complaint from you.”

“Why does this surprise you?” she challenged. “Because I’m a wimpy girl?”

“Precisely.” He wrinkled his nose in a scowl.

“Chauvinist. Come on. Tell me what to hold.”

As it turned out, only one of the jumps needed shoring up, a four-foot-diameter tree trunk set into the edge of the pond and held in place with a huge frame of railroad ties. One of the giant lag bolts holding the frame tight had loosened, and the log had rolled out a couple of inches leaving a gap right where a horse would take off to jump over it and into the water.

“Horse steps in that gap and he’s a goner,” Andy said.

“We can winch it tight with the Gator, hold it in place, and see if we can reach the bolt from underneath.”

“If not, it’ll take a little more effort. We’ll have to pull the log out and reset the framing.”

David gave his temple a rub, the first sign of stress Rio had seen all afternoon. “Let’s pray it doesn’t come to that,” he said. “That’s a daylong job and no mistake.”

The log pulled tight easily, and David stretched out on his back, half under the log to reach the bolts. Rio stared as his shirt rode up to expose his navel and his jeans dragged down to taunt her with the trail of hair disappearing beneath the fly. His beautiful, long legs, sexy and strong in breeches, looked equally tantalizing in his work jeans.

“Bloody Nora!” He cursed suddenly from his burrow, and Rio sputtered. “I can’t reach the bolt head with my whacking great hand.”

He made a few more contortions that lifted his hips, twisted his torso, and only served to tighten Rio’s gut and dry out her mouth completely. When he finally inched his way free, he let his head flop back on the ground and blew a sigh through his lips.

“Want to try it, mate?” he asked Andy.

“I will. My hand isn’t any smaller than yours, though.”

“Let me try.” Rio shrugged. “My hand’s smaller.”

“It’s a bit dank under there.” David sat up and grunted to a stand. “Back of your shirt’ll get dirty.”

“Oh, well, then, forget it.” She shot him an evil look.

The underside of the log smelled of wet moss and mold, but she ignored it and groped for the bolt with her fingers. Hefting David’s crescent wrench, she wrangled the jaws around the nut and gave it a turn. It spun loosely. After five or six rotations she finally felt it grip, two more and it tightened. With a last hard grunt and twist, she got it as tight as she was able.

“I think I’ve got it,” she called.

Once she stood next to the men, she surveyed the jump. The gap had disappeared.

“Nicely done, love. You just saved us a huge job.”

“Yay me.” Pride expanded inside her. “I hope I got it tight enough.”

David took her hand and led her to the top of the jump. He bounced up and down on the broad barked surface and got her to join in. “It feels perfect.”

Rio jogged in place beside him, grinning, until her foot came down on the very edge of the jump. With a screech she headed off the log. Strong, quick hands found hers, but her balance was too far gone. She landed butt-first in the water and screeched again as it closed around her chest.

David landed on his hands and knees beside her, the splash harmonizing with his yelp. The water would only have been thigh-high standing, but his flight position sent his face for a full dunk. When he erupted back up, he gasped and shook his soaked bangs out of his face.

“Blast!”

He looked like an affronted cat made to take a bath. Rio covered her mouth. His shirt, now plastered to him, outlined his pecs and flat masculine nipples. He wiped his face and slicked back his hair with fingers that flexed and showed off the ridges of tendons and veins in strong and sexy hands. What would they feel like slicking the water off of her? She didn’t even recoil at the thought. He was just too beautiful for her, or any woman, to feel guilty about ogling. When he looked at her, still on her rear in the brownish water that smelled of mud and rain, his eyes widened.

“You’re all wet,” he said.

“Yeah, but your
face
is all wet.”

He turned to her on his knees, the water rising to just cover his crotch. Without warning he scooped his hands through the ripples and splashed a micro-tsunami into her face. “And now yours is, as well.”

“Oooooh!” She stood swiftly and shoved a wave back at him.

Moments later he was on his feet, and she tackled him around the knees, plopping him right back down. He grasped her jeans, and it was her turn to land flat on her face. Uproarious laughter made her gulp at the exact wrong second and she inhaled a snout full of water.

Choking and gagging, she staggered to her feet and bent over, hands on her thighs. She held up a hand in surrender when he came toward her.

“You okay, there?”

“N-no.” She couldn’t catch her breath for laughing through her aching lungs. “You, you, tried to drown me.”

“Right. Well, I can give you some mouth-to-mouth if that’ll make up for it.”

A clanging from outside the pond made them both look up. Andy banged the wrench lightly on the front grill of the Gator. “I don’t wanna see mouth-to-mouth!”

“Not even to save her life?”

“If she’s in that much danger, I’ll do it,” Andy said. “Don’t trust you.”

David grasped her hand and started for the bank. Still wheezing, Rio let him drag her onto the grass.

“What was that about?” Andy asked.

Warm, sweet, sunshiny air sent shivers of delight through Rio’s body. She hadn’t realized just how hot and sweaty she’d gotten working in the sun. It felt glorious now.

“Just a bit of a swim.”

David finger-combed his hair again, pulled out the front of his green T-shirt, now nearly black with the water, and twisted the excess from it.

“Felt nice. Sure you don’t want to try it, too?” Rio coughed up the last of the water, following David’s lead and wringing out her shirt.

“Don’t think so. You two look like drowned puppies.”

“Well, then, perhaps we’ve finished this job for now.”

“Do you want me to drive us home?” Rio started for the Gator. “I’ll go fast enough to dry us off.” She brushed a leaf from the top of David’s head.

“You two sit in the back.” Andy brushed past her and climbed behind the wheel. “Me and my wooden leg are driving back.”

“W
HERE HAVE YOU
two been?”

Stella met them in the kitchen fifteen minutes later, fussing as if she’d had the entire county looking for them.

“Had a little run-in with the water complex,” David said. “No worries, though. We fixed the prelim log.”

“You’re sopping.”

“Have you only just noticed?” He toed off his paddock boots.

Rio kicked off her squishy tennis shoes and pulled off her socks. David followed suit. They both rolled up their hems, the denim heavy and disgusting. She stared at David’s feet with their straight, even toes. Good gosh, was there nothing about him that was ugly?

“David!” Kate entered the room and stared.

“Hullo, Katherine,” he said. “Fancy a swim?”

“I most certainly do not.”

“Kate, pet, run and fetch some towels out of the bath,” Stella directed.

“Don’t be daft, Mum. We’re perfectly capable of making it to our rooms.”

“And drip on the wood floor? Don’t you be daft, young boyo. Hang on.”

David rolled his eyes at Rio, who considered ignoring his mother and traipsing directly through the precious kitchen. But Rio was a guest. David was the one who needed to stand up and walk through his own home—nasty wet or not—but so far he didn’t counter his mother either.

Kate reappeared with an armful of fluffy blue and green towels. Stella took one and made for Rio like she was approaching a child after a bath. Out of the corner of her eye, Rio saw Kate do the same to David. Her stomach clenched as Kate lifted the towel and began to rub David’s head.

“Off with that shirt,” she said to him.

“Here, here, love.” Stella wrapped a towel around Rio’s head, as well, blocking her view and keeping her from seeing whether David complied with Kate’s directive. “Whatever possessed you to climb in the water jump?”

After a vigorous toweling Rio finally found air to speak. “We more fell in. We were testing how solid the log was and I slipped. David rescued me.”

“But she wouldn’t let me give her mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, more’s the pity.” David’s voice came muffled through his own towel.

“David, really, how rude is that?” Kate sounded imperious for the first time. “What a chauvinist.”

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