Part 16 (2/2)

”That's right,” Jazz said, lying back on one of the white cus.h.i.+ons to get more sun. It was chilly out on the water despite the clear bright sky. ”I heard they have Marsh Tacky races on the beach on Daufuskie Island. It's coming up in a few weeks, I think.”

”Yep, that's where we're headed,” Devon said. ”Normally they come on a barge the morning of the event from surrounding stables.”

”d.a.m.n, that must be a sight to see,” Joey added.

Jack twisted his ball cap around to the back. ”I spoke to a local guy who keeps a few on the island.” He dropped his shades a second and caught my eye. ”So that's what we're headed to do today. Race horses on the beach.”

”Oh my G.o.d, seriously?” Jazz squealed. ”That is so freaking cool!”

Not to mention apparently quite dangerous, and the sum total of my riding experience was ... nil. I swallowed nervously. Wow.

Daufuskie Island was only accessible by boat, making it uniquely sheltered from ma.s.sive development. The stable owner's land was right next to the beach, nestled among ma.s.sive pines, palmettos, and ancient, sprawling Live Oaks strewn with Spanish moss. We could see the ocean glittering through the pines from where we were standing on the crunchy brown pine straw that carpeted the ground.

”It's typical that someone from California would be the one to show us what a freaking amazing part of the world we live in,” said Joey. He nudged Jack as a local Gullah boy walked a chestnut Stallion over to us.

Devon left us to speak to the stable owner about permission to film and get the skinny on the logistics of using the barge to bring film equipment.

”Who dun' gunna rai dis 'un?” the boy holding the horse asked us in his Gullah dialect. He looked about twelve, young but sinewy under his deep dark skin.

The horse was handsome and strong looking. Jazz and I both found ourselves stepping back a bit as the boy tied its lead rope loosely on the split rail fence.

Jack looked at my brother blankly.

”Oh, sorry. He asked who wanted to ride this horse first.”

”I think you and I should race first,” Jack said. ”Show the girls how it's done. Maybe make a wager.”

”This guy wants to date my sister,” Joey told the boy and then pointed at me.

The boy looked at me, then at Jack. He jerked his head for Joey to follow him, and they exchanged a few murmurs, before the boy ran off over the pine straw.

”What the h.e.l.l was that about?” I asked Joey.

”He said he's getting me a faster horse.”

Jazz snorted with laughter.

”Uh, Joey,” I said, my eyebrows raised in amus.e.m.e.nt. ”When was the last time you rode a horse?”

”What? You think I can't beat this pansy-a.s.s actor?”

Jazz lost it, doubling over with giggles. ”Did you-”

”You're on.” Jack aimed my brother a serious look before Jazz could finish. ”If I win, I get to stay here on the island tonight with your sister. Alone.”

I gasped out a breath then clamped my jaw shut.

Jazz promptly stopped laughing. ”s.h.i.+t, that was hot,” she murmured at me.

No kidding.

Joey seemed to be weighing it up. Then his horse was led out of the barn. A muscly black horse that skittered sideways and pulled on his lead. ”It's a deal.”

We followed behind as boys and horses were led down to the beach and into the bright sun.

The race, which was marked out with rope, was to comprise a four hundred yard sprint, followed by a wade into the water around a small buoy, and then back. I was nervous to watch. It was notoriously difficult to maneuver the Marsh Tackies around turns without falling.

Jack toed off his shoes and socks, sliding his bare feet into the sand. He gathered his t-s.h.i.+rt behind his head, giving me a peek at his beautiful stomach. Oh yes, please please take it off. Then he pulled it over his head, leaving me with a dry mouth and sweaty palms.

My brother followed suit.

Jazz made a soft sound next to me.

Where Jack was chiseled and lean, Joey was no less fit but slightly broader with thicker arms and shoulders.

”Oh my ...” Jazz got her phone out. ”I've got to get this on video. It might be the hottest d.a.m.n thing I've ever seen. Like, ever. I'm rarely speechless, but this might just do it. In the immortal words of Lana Del Rey: ”Oh that grace, Oh that body, Oh that face, Makes me want to party ...” she sang for my ears only.

”How do we get on without a saddle and stirrups,” Joey asked.

Jack walked over and created a stirrup with his hands for Joey and helped him up. Then he walked back with a smirk, held onto the mane of his horse, and leaped up onto its back in one smooth motion.

Oh. My. G.o.d.

Jazz squeaked. ”I think I just o.r.g.a.s.med.”

”Shut up, Jazz,” I managed, and swallowed thickly.

”If I win?” asked Joey, looking a bit disgruntled and more determined than ever. His horse skittered to the side, ignoring the soothing tones of the boy holding his leading rein.

”You won't. There's too much riding on it for me. 'Scuse the pun.” His eyes found mine.

I held Jack's eyes a moment before he winked and looked back at Joey.

My brother flushed. ”If I win, you can stay on this d.a.m.n island alone.” He glared at the stable hand who was standing next to them as the Race Starter. ”When you're ready.”

My eyes roamed down Jack's bare torso to a tendril of black ink sneaking out over the waistband of his underwear that was visible above his worn blue jeans. The tattoo that covered his scarred skin caused by his father. His hands were curled into the mane, his biceps flexing. His powerful leg rested on the side of the chestnut horse, ending in bare feet and the tattoo of the beautiful little sea turtle. Jack had marked his body four times ... once to cover his painful childhood memories, once to celebrate the leap in his career to megastar, the thin chain of ink on his ankle I'd never asked about, and once ... to remember me.

I didn't get a chance to think on that further as a loud, ”Hah!” rendered the air and both horses were smacked on their rumps and took off.

Jack immediately leaned in, gripping the horse with his entire body, muscles rippling. But Joey was on a much faster horse, and what Joey lacked in style as a rider was more than compensated for.

The black horse looked to be pulling into the lead. Joey threw a look over his shoulder at Jack, his blond hair whipping into his eyes.

Jazz mewed next to me. ”Go, Joey,” she yelled, her phone pointing straight ahead.

”Are you seriously cheering for me not to get laid tonight?” I laughed incredulously. ”Go on, Jack!” I screamed out.

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