Fall For My Ex’s Mafia Dad
Chapter 44

"Good, Fay! Good!" Jerome says, his voice eager and encouraging.

Kent's trainer couldn't come on short notice, so Jerome is putting me through some exercises on the horse. He watched me ride a bit and then told me to my surprise - that I'm too reliant on the reins. "You hold onto them," he had said, smirking at me, "like the handlebars on a bike. Like they're going to keep you from falling off."

I had frowned at him. "Well," I said, hesitating. "Aren't they?"

Jerome had laughed, looking up at me from his place on the ground next to Heathcliff. "No, Fay," he said. "The best riders barely even use the reins. You've got to learn how to communicate from here." With that, he'd shocked me by smacking my thigh.

Jerome hadn't noticed my surprise, though, instead moving to Heathcliff's head and unbuckling his bridle, replacing it with a halter - a head harness that has no reins at all. Then, he attached a long, long lead rope to a ring on that halter so that we could do some exercises without reins.

So now I'm bouncing around arena as Heathcliff trots in circles around Jerome, who stands at the center, the end of the long lead in his hand.

It was scary, at first, not having anything to hold onto. Jerome even made me put my arms out to the side like a bird, to make me avoid clinging to Heathcliff's mane for safety. But then, as I got the hang of it, I started to understand what he meant.

I really had been holding on to the reins for dear life. But really, it was all about balance and holding on with my legs and my knees.

My arms still out to the side, I shoot Jerome a happy look and he laughs, pleased to see me catching on.

"Well done, Fay!" He shouts to me. "Can you kick him into a canter?"

I hesitate, not sure if I want to go faster. Jerome, seeing my hesitation, laughs at me derisively. He doesn't quite call me a coward but...well, it's implied.

I clench my teeth and screw my courage together, giving Heathcliff a little nudge with my heels. He responds immediately, picking up the pace into a rolling little canter.

I laugh, putting my weight into the balls of my feet and my heels, standing in the stirrups and feeling a bit of a thrill as the wind whips against my face. Jerome whoops with joy and I can't help myself as I laugh a little along with him.

"Okay, Fay!" he shouts out to me. "Go ahead and sit back down, put your weight at the back of the saddle to slow him."

I work to do as he says, bouncing a little, awkwardly, as Heathcliff slows to a trot and then a walk. I'm still laughing with joy as Jerome walks over to us, gathering up the length of the long lead as he goes.

"Atta girl," he says, smiling up at me. "You're riding like a real cowgirl now."

I brush the hair out of my face, tucking it back beneath my little velvet helmet.

"Oh yeah?" I ask, grinning down at him. "You going to teach me how to rope steers next?"

"I'll teach you anything you want," Jerome says, coming close to Heathcliff's shoulder and smiling up at me. "Pretty girl like you, though?" he says, raising his eyebrow, "you should learn how to barrel race. That's what all the rodeo beauties do, and they make good money if they're fast enough."

His smile deepens as he sees me blush. I'm not used to being told I'm pretty. I have to admit though...I didn't hate it.

"What's barrel racing?" I ask, studying Jerome's face as he explains the process of girls competing to see who can be the fastest to run a loop around two barrels and return to the start.

Jerome's a good looking guy - older than me, but only by a few years, with sandy brown hair and a light smattering of freckles over his nose. He's strong-jawed and, like most of Kent's guys, quite fit.

I stop hearing what he's saying as I look at him more. Does he really think I'm pretty? Or was he just saying it as a joke?

Suddenly, Jerome's smile deepens as he realizes that I'm not paying attention to a word he's saying. That I'm just staring at his handsome face.

"Sorry," I say, blinking at him and blushing again. "Um, can you repeat that?"

"Don't worry about it," he says, laughing a little and holding up a hand to help me dismount. "Come on, let's let Heathcliff get his rest."

I nod and take Jerome's hand, swinging my right leg over Heathcliff's withers and hopping down, my butt sliding against the saddle as I go. Much more elegant a dismount, I think, then the time Kent had helped me down and my butt had slid against him as I'd almost fallen. Still, I remember, just for a moment, the feeling of Kent's hands on my waist.

Distracting myself from the thought, I grin up at Jerome. "I think I'm getting better at this," I say, genuinely proud of myself.

"You're doing great, Fay," he says, his eyes lingering on my face a little. Then he clears his throat and looks towards the barn, tugging on Heathcliff's halter to ask him to walk forward. "We'll get you racing in no time."

I walk alongside Jerome, happily chatting with him as we get Heathcliff back into his stall, unsaddled, and ready for his afternoon of peace and quiet.

I have to admit, there is something comforting about being with Jerome. Unlike Kent, I'm never worried about what mood he's in today or how I'm going to pay the consequences of that mood. And unlike Daniel, there's...well, there's a bit of a spark, really. Daniel's great, but it's all books and philosophy and plans for escaping this life. There's nothing romantic there, not anymore, which...well, which gets a little boring.

Jerome, though? I bite my lip, watching him lift the saddle up onto its spot on the wall, his arms swelling with the effort, a little bit of sweat on his brow.

A cute guy who likes horses and, apparently, likes me too?

Maybe there's something here after all. Something worth thinking about, at least.

I'm still buzzing with joy as Jerome pulls back onto Kent's property. Jerome and I talked easily the whole way home, him telling me about his years in the rodeo circuit, and then some other years rustling cattle out West.

It sounded amazing, like a dream, and there wasn't enough time to get all of my questions answered by the time we were home. I almost regretted it, as we pulled into the garage.

"Can you come next time?" I ask Jerome as we climb out of the car, my eyes shining.

He smiles at me as we walk towards the door to the house. "I'll go as often as Kent lets me, Fay," he says. Just before we walk through the door into the house, though, Jerome grabs my arm, hesitating. Apparently, he wants a moment together while we're still alone. "I, uh..." he says, glancing at the door. I glance at it as well. Then he takes a step closer to me. "I had a really nice time with you today, Fay," he says, his face quite close to mine now.

"I did too," I say, my stomach doing a little somersault. We stand there for a moment, smiling at each other, before the door opens.

Jerome is moving before I even realize what is happening, heading towards the house, giving Kent - who is standing there - a nod.

Kent watches Jerome carefully as he walks past, not saying a word. Then, Kent slowly turns his gaze to me. I just stare at him, my eyes wide and my face blank.

"Well, Fay?" Kent asks, crossing his arms across his chest. "Did you have a nice time?" He glances after Jerome again.

"Yes," I say, smoothing my hands over my tight riding pants. "It was...really nice. Thank you. For letting Jerome take me."

Kent just nods and then pulls something from his back pocket. "You have mail," he says, holding out a little square envelope.

Curious, I come forward and take it. There's no address on the front - just my name.

"Delivered by hand," Kent explains. "Apparently, it's an invitation for tonight. The messenger is still here," Kent says, looking towards the front door. "Waiting for your reply." Quickly, I open the envelope, raising my eyebrows at what I see inside.