Fall For My Ex’s Mafia Father

Fall For My Ex’s Mafia Father

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Chapter 101

“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.

Chapter 101

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in circles around Jerome, who

in his hand.

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

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

to the side, I shoot Jerome a happy look and he

pleased to see me

to me. “Can you kick

canter?”

sure if I want to go faster. Jerome, seeing my

doesn’t quite

my courage together, giving Heathcliff a little nudge with

of my feet and my heels, standing in the stirrups and feeling a bit of a thrill as the wind whips

Chapter 101

as I laugh a little along

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sit back down, put your weight at the back of the saddle to

says, bouncing a little, awkwardly, as Heathcliff slows to a trot and then a walk. I’m still laughing with joy as Jerome

as he goes,

says, smiling up at me, “You’re riding like a

face,

velvet helmet.

I ask, grinning down at him. “You going to teach me how to rope

me. “Pretty girl like you, though?” he says, raising his eyebrow, “you should learn how to barrel race.

they’re fast enough,”

smile deepens as he sees me blush. I’m not used to being