Broken Hero

He runs a hand through his thick hair again, and it does something to me. It makes me want to replace it with my own, to stretch up on my tip-toes, to see if those wide shoulders are as hard to the touch as they look.

“You’re free to go for a ride on the trails whenever you want,” he says. “As long as we’re not booked for a guided trail ride that day.”

“Really?”He nods. “Really. I can take you out myself one day. If you’d like to.”

“I would, yes. Thanks.”

Oliver nods, and for a second, he doesn’t look like a gruff Marine or my six-foot-two boss. He looks pleased, and a little bit unsure of himself. It makes my chest tighten.

“I’ll bring your flannel tomorrow,” I say. “I’ve washed it, too.”

“Don’t worry about,” he says, a hand on the doorway. “And Lucy?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t eat that croissant. There are fresh ones in the cupboard by the fridge.”

He walks up the stairs and I’m left with a warm glow in my chest, a riding date semi-confirmed with my too-handsome-for-his-own-good boss, and a yoga class to teach.

If I didn’t know better, I’d say life was pretty perfect.

Damn, but Lucy Rhodes is gorgeous. It’s all I can think of these days.

I walk out to get something from the boot of my car and I see her leaning against the door of the studio. I catch a glimpse of her hair shining in the sunlight and her long legs on display, and it’s like glimpsing a piece of heaven.

She has a direct hotline to my groin and to my chest, making both tighten at the sight of her. It’s all too easy to imagine gathering her by the waist and pulling her close. Sliding her tank top to the side and touching my lips to her lightly freckled skin. I’m not a boy in puberty anymore, but damn if she doesn’t make me feel that way.

Hiring her was a mistake. I’d told myself I was humoring my sister, but in reality, I was humoring my own curiosity. The problem being, of course, that having her work for me hasn’t sated my curiosity in the least.

It’s only piqued it.

I glance at the clock by my desk. It’s just past three in the afternoon. Most of the guests would be out for the day, and Lucy’s client would have finished about fifteen minutes ago. I should be able to catch her before she bikes back to town.

Thankfully, Jack and Tim are not working today-so I have no one to avoid as I walk the gravel path down to the spa. Austin pads along beside me, his tongue out.

Lucy’s client emerges from the spa just as I’m heading up the path. She flicks back expertly dyed hair and runs a hand over her dress. Damn. I thought I’d be in the clear. The lady arrived two days ago with her husband, but whenever he’s away, she entertains herself by flirting with me.

Her eyes light up when she sees me. “Mr. Morris himself, if I’m not mistaken?”

“Hello, Mrs. Reston. How was the treatment?”

“Oh, just wonderful. It’s important to stretch every now and then, release all the tension. But then, I’m sure you know that.”

I don’t return her smile. “Sure.”

She glances back to the spa, and then towards me. I don’t like the heavy meaning in her gaze. “Is it time for your treatment, Oliver? May I call you Oliver?”

“Just checking up on my employees. Have a good day, ma’am.”

She chuckles. “Ma’am. I’m not that old. See you later, then.”

As she passes me, her hand grazes my arm, across my bicep. It takes considerable willpower to resist pulling away. She saunters off and I head towards the spa.

Lucy is standing right inside the door. She’s wearing an amused smile, her eyes alight with mischief.

“What?”

“That must happen all the time, right?”

I shrug. “Occasionally.”

She’s still smiling as she folds a large white towel. “It must get tempting.”

“Do you think I’d sleep with my guests?”

Lucy looks up. “No. I didn’t mean to imply that you did.”

“Don’t worry about it. But for the record, I don’t.”

“Good to know.” She puts a stack of clean and folded towels away. “What’s up?”Text © by N0ve/lDrama.Org.

“Are you done for today?”

“I am, yeah.”

I lean against the doorframe. “Let’s go horseback riding.”

A grin spreads across her face. “Really?”

“Yeah. If you’re still up for it.”

“Of course I am, are you kidding me? Let’s go.”

I can’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. “Come on. Austin can be our guide.”

She gives me a wide, warm smile as we head to the stables. Her happiness is infectious. “I’m going to insist you wear a helmet, you know.”

She scoffs. “I’d be mad if you didn’t. What kind of establishment are you running here, Mr. Morris?”

“I ask myself that daily.”

She chuckles. “Well, you’re rated close to five stars on TripAdvisor, so you’re clearly doing something right.”

We’re greeted by the familiar smell of hay and horse. Two of the mares whinny loudly, probably in the hopes that we’re bringing food. Lucy stops by Ginger and runs a hand down her smooth, auburn neck. “Aren’t you a pretty girl?”

I stop at Whiskey’s pen and watch as they interact. “Do you visit them often?”

“I try to swing by every day, actually. I hope you don’t mind?”