She rolls her lips between her teeth, a flicker of tension crossing her face before she hikes her thumb over her shoulder.
“Well, I should head back. I have a ton of work to do and I’m still getting the hang of everything. Thanks for lunch, though.”
“Hold up. I’ll walk you.”
“I can literally see the barn from here. I think I’ll manage.” She scoffs as she turns away, but I catch up to her in two long strides.
“You don’t need to thank me for lunch, by the way. Staff meals are comped. If you haven’t noticed, my dad is big on his people being taken care of.”
She nods but doesn’t say anything.
It’s a perfect kind of day. Clear blue skies, sunshine soaking deep into your skin, effortlessly peaceful. The crunch of our footsteps in the dirt is the only sound filling the silence.
Days like this remind me how lucky I am—and how I wouldn’t trade this life for anything.
We’re about halfway to the barn when she finally acknowledges me walking alongside her.
“What was she talking about?”
“Who? Lydia?”
“Yes, about this weekend. Where are you going?”
“Hm. I thought Emmett would’ve asked you already.”
“Clearly not. Are you going to tell me or keep dancing around my questions?”
The corner of my mouth quirks. “I don’t dance, Princess.”
She sighs deeply and rolls her eyes again. “Don’tcall me that. Actually, whatever. I don’t care enough to participate in this roundabout conversation anymore.”
“Alright, don’t get all worked up.” She opens her mouth—definitely about to argue—but I hold my hand up to stop her. “The rodeo.”
She closes her mouth briefly, pinching her eyebrows together. “What?”
“It’s casual. Nothin’ too crazy, but we do alright.”
“Bull riding?” she asks, disbelieving.
“That surprise you?” I sweep a hand around us. “Have you forgotten where you are?”
“It’s impossible to forget.” She pauses, biting her lip—and I can’t not look. It’s the smallest thing, but I’m ensnared, my gaze falling to the still-healing cut. “Isn’t it, like, really dangerous though?”
“There’s risk in everything. Less if you know what you’re doing—which we do.” I smirk.
“I guess.” She trails off as we reach the front of the barn. “Well…thanks for walking me back. How verygentlemanlyof you.”
“I was heading this way, anyway. Don’t read into it.” Turning to face her, I hold my hand out, palm-up. “Give me your phone.”
“Why?”
“Because I told you to.”
She raises her eyebrows.
“It’s important.”
I wiggle my fingers until she finally gives in, without bothering to unlock it. I hold the phone up between us, waiting until I feel the faint vibration confirming it’s recognized her face, unamused expression and all. Then I punch in my number, send myself a text so I’ve got hers too, and hand it back without a word.
