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“Yeah, she was acting strange the other day, but she seems to be back to normal today.”
We head back to the four-wheeler, and I climb on behind her. She takes off down the trail, and I hold onto her. Feeling her soft curves pressed against me is a sweet kind of torture. My brain starts to imagine a different way for us to be pressed together and I have to shake my head and put some distance between our bodies so she doesn’t feel my arousal.
She drives around the property, and I just try to enjoy the ride and the views. Soon enough, we’re pulling up next to the house again, and I’m following her inside.
Vera washes her hands and I join her at the sink.
“What did you pack for lunch?” She asks me as she pulls out the picnic basket.
“I picked up some wraps and sandwiches from the market. Oh, and some salads and stuff.”
She opens the basket and starts to pull out the food while I wash my hands.
“Oh, dibs on the spicy club,” she says, and I smile.
“Do you like spicy foods?”
“Love them. I think I ate Flaming Hot Cheetos like every day growing up.”
We take our seats at the table, and I pass her the spicy club wrap and grab the BLT for myself. She stands and grabs us a couple of plates and some forks.
“I love this pasta salad,” she says, and I nudge that towards her.
“What about the potato salad?” I ask, and she shrugs.
“I’ve never had it before, but it looks good.”
We eat and spend the next half-hour asking each other questions. It’s easy stuff like favorite weather and least favorite condiment. I can see Vera starting to open up and relax around me.
My phone starts to ring and I pull it out, silencing it when I see my assistant’s name on the screen.
“Need to get that?” Vera asks, and I shake my head.
“No, I’m all yours today.”
We finish lunch and head back outside and to the training ring. I watch her with the next set of wolves, and towards the end, she turns to me.
“Want to give it a try?” She calls to me, and I nod.
“Sure.”
“Come stand here,” she instructs, and I do as she says.
She shows me how to call out to the wolves and use the riding crop to direct them. They don’t respond to me as well as they do her, but she assures me that it’s just because they don’t know and trust me well yet.
Just like her, I think.
“What now?” I ask as we head back to the four-wheeler.
“I need to get their food ready,” she says a second before she takes off.
We head to the barn behind her house, and I follow her inside. There’s a kitchen off to the right, and she heads there.
“What can I do to help?” I ask her, and she smiles.
“Nothing. I just need to go put this out for them, and then I’m going to call it a night. I’m beat.”
I can tell that she’s trying to get rid of me. I’m not sure what went wrong. Maybe she’s just getting sick of me, or maybe she realized that her guard was dropping and is scared.
