she died of embarrassment.
The sound of Ethan’s laughter followed her, and it was all Lily could do not to kick Goose into a gallop.
Naked.
He’d been naked the whole time.
Distance from the scene of the crime helped her calm her heart-rate, but with that calm came unease. Ethan found it funny right now, but would he still find it amusing later on? What if he told others—like his grandmother? Mrs. Marshall wouldn’t find it one bit funny.
Could she get fired for this? The thought chilled her. More than just the job, she loved—needed—the security of Hill Chase. It gave her a place to live and peace of mind. The thought of losing that because she’d been blinded by charm and a chest and not noticed he was skinny-dipping …
He was naked the whole time.
How will I ever be able to look him in the eye again?
Naked.
How could I have known?
It was an accident.
Lily lifted her chin. Exactly. An accident. No harm done. So the chances of losing her job were very, very low. She had to quit jumping straight to The Worst-Case Scenario all the time. The next time she saw Ethan—and it was guaranteed she would see him sooner rather than later, since the stable wasn’t that big—she’d pretend it didn’t happen. That would be the grown-up thing to do. Surely he’d like to forget the whole thing ever happened too.
So would she, but every time she closed her eyes she could see …
Nope. There would be no forgetting for her. Ethan Marshall wearing nothing but river water would be an image she’d take with her to her grave.
And, actually, she was really okay with that.
“Want to tell me what the hell that was all about?” Brady asked as he swung up onto Spider’s back later that afternoon.
Ethan bit back a laugh as he checked the stirrups and mounted Tinker. Using his best innocent voice, he played dumb. “What was what about?”
“Lily tripping all over herself back at the stables and turning that amazing shade of red.” Brady gave him that Big Brother look. “What did you do to her?”
“I’ve been here less than twelve hours. What makes you think I could ‘do’ anything to her?”
Brady snorted. “This is you we’re talking about.”
Lily’s reaction when they’d walked into the stable had been almost comical. She’d taken one look at him, blushed the color of an overripe tomato, and nearly dropped the tack she carried. “Maybe she’s always like that.”
“I have to assume not, because she’d scare the horses otherwise.”
“You assume? I thought you made a point of knowing everything about everything.”
“I’ve barely spoken three words to her since she started working here.”
Tinker and Spider walked slowly through the wide stable doors into the sunshine, and Ethan slid his sunglasses on against the glare. “Too good these days to talk to the hired help, are you?”
“Back off. It’s not like I’m here all the time. I have a job, too, you know.” Ethan heard the mild frustration and tiredness in Brady’s voice. He was hip-deep in the political machine that practically defined their family—and had for more than forty years. Apparently it was wearing on him already. “She’s barely spoken three words to me either. She’s not the talkative type. Very shy.”
Based on earlier today, Ethan would believe Lily was a little on the quiet side, but he wouldn’t have guessed she was overly shy. Spider and Tinker were impatient and ready to run, but had to be held to a slower pace as he filled Brady in on their meeting in the river.
“And she didn’t realize it?”
“Not until I told her.”
“Oh, that’s bad,” Brady said through his laughter. “You really should have told her sooner. No wonder she’s all flustered now.”
“She’ll get over it.” When Brady didn’t immediately agree, Ethan reined Tinker to a stop. “What?”
“Maybe you should apologize to her.”
“For what? What did I do?”
“Besides not telling her you were skinny-dipping sooner in the conversation?”
“We’re adults—”
“It doesn’t matter. You’re staying here for the next couple of weeks. That—” he tilted his head back in the direction of the stable “—can’t continue. Give the girl a break. If you don’t, you’re a sadist every time you come to the stable.”
Brady had a point. Although renovations should have been finished a week ago, the workmen still had his condo ripped apart. Hill Chase would be his home base until they finished. And, while he doubted the work that had piled up in his absence would leave him much free time, he fully intended to make the most of any he managed to scrape out. He’d be around the stables a lot in the near future. If Lily was that flustered about their meeting, it would be cruel of him to let it continue.
Brady’s phone rang and he fished it out of his pocket. A glance at the number had him rolling his eyes. “I have to take this.”
Ethan nodded. Campaign season was about to go into full swing, and their father was in a hell of a fight to keep his Senate seat. Personally, Ethan didn’t care if the current Senator Marshall kept his seat, but Granddad—whose Senate legacy was a plank in his son’s platform, and probably the only reason Douglas Marshall had won in the first place—cared very deeply. And while Brady’s sense of duty managed to outweigh his own feelings toward their father, Ethan’s didn’t. He couldn’t bring himself to help his father, but out of respect for Granddad he managed not to hinder either.
But Brady, as one of the senior staffers, would be even more swamped than usual between now and the election. Ethan was actually surprised he’d gotten away today even for a short visit. Campaigns and politicking didn’t take Sundays off.
Brady let his reins go slack, and Spider walked over to the side of the path to nibble on grass while Brady dealt with whatever the problem was. Tinker tugged on the reins, impatient to get going, but Ethan held him steady, waiting for Brady. He was home, finally, and happy just to be here. He wasn’t in a real rush to get anywhere right now.
Over in the next paddock, he saw Lily leading Biscuit slowly by the halter. He hadn’t known Biscuit had been injured, but the white wrapping on her foreleg and the slow, even pace Lily kept were clear indications the horse was on the mend from something.
Lily looked small standing next to Biscuit—he hadn’t been able to truly tell her height this morning from her position on Goose’s back. The dark green T-shirt with the “Marshall Stable” logo was a bit loose, almost camouflaging her curves, but she’d rolled the sleeves up over her shoulders, exposing nicely
