“Is Arnie planning on staying?” I ask, covering my chest with my arms. When Dom got the call, I jumped in the truck with him without even thinking about the fact that I was wearing my jammies.
He narrows his eyes at me, taking off his hoodie and handing it to me without uttering a word about it. “That’s what I was coming out here to talk to you about. He says he is, but I don’t feel good about leaving him here. But you should head back. Do you want me to take you?”
I shake my head. “I don’t want to go.”
It feels wrong.
There’s no way I’m stepping food in that barn, and even if I could, I can't help. I’d feel so useless at the cabin by myself, though, worrying about the two of them. If only?—
Oh, shit.
Saylor.
“I think there’s someone I can call,” I say, grabbing my phone resting on top of the driver’s seat and sending the text I never thought I would need to send. I hope to God she can find some forgiveness and help.
She did.
She came. She said she couldn’t do much, but she would come take a look, and she’s in there with the horse.
Or the mare, I should say, according to Saylor. I didn’t even pay attention. I used to be able to tell so much about a horse inminutes. I could hear their heartbeat as my own after a simple touch, and now, all I see is failure and lost dreams.
“She kicked you out?” I ask Dom, who’s stepping out of the barn again. She told me very clearly only Arnie was allowed to stay with her, but Dom stubborn Diaz wanted to try either way. Saylor might be quiet and reserved, the opposite of how she presents herself—black and white duotone hair, septum pierced, and eyeliner that makes her blue eyes reach your soul—but she also has a commanding tone you can’t ignore.
He chuckles. “Yeah. She’s feisty.”
I smile softly but don’t say anything about that. “Thanks for the hoodie.”
“You sure you don’t want to head back? This might take all night.”
“I’m good. Are you going back?”
He shakes his head.
“Then I’m staying too.” I yawn, because only my body would betray me like this. “I’m fine.”
“I don’t think you know the definition of fine.”
I have to fight the urge to respond with yes, daddy. The knowing man he is, he says, “Go ahead, say it.”
I play dumb. “Say what?” I smile for the first time in hours, loving that this is the effect he has on me. It feels so easy to be around him, to smile around him, to be myself because he doesn’t judge and thinks I’m beautiful. He thinks my mess is too.
“Never mind.” He looks back, straight into the barn. The sounds coming from it are a lot less chaotic than they were a while ago. He steps around me, climbing into the bed of his truck, opening a toolbox and pulling out something that looks like a blanket. He hops down, carrying the blanket and allurement with every stride. He grabs my hand, catching me off guard as he leads us to a spot of grass by the barn doors.
He lays a couple of the blankets down and sits, patting the spot next to him and inviting me to do the same. “If we’re gonna spend the night out here, we might as well get comfortable.”
See? Another thing I love about this man. He respects mychoices. Why is it so easy with him when he doesn’t want us to be more than just a fling?
“What’s the story with your friend?” he asks, pointing at the barn with his thumb before placing his arm on top of his propped up knee.
“She’s not really my friend.” I lower my tone and mutter, “At least, not anymore.”
He waits for me to continue, giving me space to pick a road and commit to it, but without forcing me there. Nothing makes me want to share more than the space he gives for me to be the one to decide.
“We used to be inseparable. She’s a little older than me, but we trained together.” I throw my head back with theatrics but continue. “Barrel racing.”
He nods, narrowing his eyes, but he doesn’t ask anything.
“We grew up in the shadow of the other, both really good at it. Her because it’s in her blood—her mom used to race too—and me because it kept both my brain and body occupied. It was the saving grace my parents needed for me.” I rest my head on his shoulder.
