“Well,” I manage, desperate to change the subject, “this place is pretty incredible.”
He nods once and takes a long sip of coffee. “I think so. It’s a lot of work but I think the kids will remember it fondly.”
A miniature donkey brays beside us and I jump. “Oh! How did I miss you before?”
“She’s usually out in the pasture. Cora had to have her last year for her birthday.”
“Oh wow! That’s a big gift.”
“Tell me about it.” He grins as he says, “I must have said no at least ten times, then she cried, and well… there’s Dolly.”
I laugh as my chest warms. “Was this always your dream?”
He draws in a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “Yeah, I guess. I grew up visiting my grandparents here. When they passed away, they gave the place to their son, and when he passed away, they were going to put the farm up for sale. I couldn’t let it go to someone else, so I bought it. There’s something special about the land here. I… couldn’t imagine it not belonging to my family. Just feels like a part of me.” He shrugs. “The distillery dream belonged to a few of my brothers and they needed investors. So, I invested and we’ve opened the three locations within five years. The two in the springs are doing really well. The one in town here, not so much.”
“I heard about the crew at Mullet’s bar messing with you all. The small-town loyalty is good in some respects, but not so much in others.”
He draws his hand down over his beard. “Honestly, I should’ve seen it coming. Hopefully, tonight’s party should bring everyone together. It’s the official premier of Dad’s whiskey at the distillery.” He takes another sip of coffee. “What about you? You always dream of being a risk analyst?”
“No,” I laugh, “not at all. I fell backwards into it after my photography dreams plummeted.”
“What happened?”
I shrug. “My parents wereveryadamant that Idid notwaste tuition money on anything artsy. So, I went to college for business and fell backwards into the risk analyst thing. At first, I thought it kind of fit because I’ve always been a worrier and my brain immediately goes to seeing threats first. Like when I first got here, I saw that fence and then learned that the kids like to play in the pastures with the animals. My brain was firing a mile a minute, telling me constantly that this place was a death trap.”I glance up at the groaning rafter, smiling playfully as I say, “I mean, this place scares the hell out of me.”
He shrugs and shakes his head, swallowing back a grin. “The place could use some upgrades, but that rafter’s been threatening to fall since my granddad’s day. Just likes the attention.”
“Right. Concrete, splinters, character-building near-death experiences… it’s all part of owning a ranch, I guess.”
“True story.” He nods as water pools outside the barn doors. “I am worried about this flooding, though. I need to get out back by the creek and move some gravel around before the day is done. You, ugh, you should bring your camera down to the barn sometime. There’s plenty to photograph. We’ve got loads of questionable subjects to highlight, some even more dangerous than the attention-seeking rafter.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “I haven’t taken a picture in areallylong time. I had to sell my camera so I could pay for repairs on my car a couple of years ago.”
“Do you still think about taking pictures?”
“Oh yeah! I think about it all the time. When my dad would take us fishing, I’d lift up the rocks and take really interesting close-up shots of the bugs I found. I had this macro lens that made a stonefly nymph look just like a dragon.”
“I like this about you,” he says, standing from the stool to hang the saddle back on the hook by the gate. “You’ve always been a curious person. Even when you were young, you were—”
He stops himself and turns away, his jaw tightening.
“What was I?” I swallow hard as I ask, knowing full well why he stopped talking.
It’s awkward. It’s weird. It’s totally screwed up that Cash knew me when I was younger.
He glances back toward me before tossing a bale of hay in with the donkey. “You were curious. You’ve always been curious.”
Before I can respond, the sky opens up and rain pounds harder on the roof, the attention-seeking beam groaning louder. Maybe it’s silly to think last night could ever turn into more. Even if we have feelings for each other, real life is complicated.
Then again, the way Cash is looking at me right now is very much like the way he looked at me last night. Feral, obsessed, possessive, like he’s on the edge of something he’s having a hard time controlling.
His hands flex at his sides, opening and closing slowly, as though he’s trying to stay grounded, though his body is moving itself toward me.
My stomach tightens as he nears, and suddenly, I’m remembering every version of him I’ve ever known. The man who taught me how to tie a proper knot. The guy who carried me on his shoulders at the county fair. The friend who always felt like part of the family.
I drop my gaze to the straw covered floor before he can read anything on my face, but he’s everywhere. The dark leather of his boots. His massive frame. The heat from his body.
His rough fingertip touches my chin and lifts it gently. “Tell me what you want.”
