“Of course,” he says.
I stroke his pale coat and keep my palm flat and Ghost’s whiskers tickle my wrist. I laugh a little, surprised by the sensation. It’s been a long time since I petted a horse.
I missed being around them, missed their liquid eyes and velvety noses and even their smell. Horses were my first love, the only animal I was allowed to have. My father had his hunting dogs and my mother had her Persian cats, each one meaner than the last.
I loved those mean, furry cats anyway, grumpy squishy faces and all. I’ve spent most of my life loving creatures that never loved me back.
But at least my childhood show ponies returned my affection.
When I glance up Slade is watching me with those green eyes.
“Do you ride?” he asks.
“Only English. I grew up doing show-jumping.”
His dark eyebrows shoot up. “No shit.”
“It’s been a long time since I’ve been on horseback though. And never on a Western saddle.”
“Western’s easy to pick up, especially if you already know how to ride. We could go out on the trails sometime.”
“I would love that,” I say.
It’s not a date, obviously. Clients invite their designers out with them all the time. To dinners, on their boats, even going together on lavish trips to source materials. You can’t designsomeone’s home without getting personal. It doesn’t mean anything beyond that.
I’ve always been very clear-eyed about that distinction.
The problem is I’ve never had a client like Slade Rhodes. Ridiculously hot, good with animals, accomplished and humble and… yeah, okay, I need to stop.
This crush can’t get out of hand.
I’m a professional. This is professional. Everything is fine.
“Here,” he says, “let me show you inside.”
He opens the front door for me. The first thing that happens is a low, doggy woof from another room. Moments later, Lucky comes around the corner, slow and a little uncertain on her prosthetic leg, but her tail wagging back and forth. My heart swells. She looks so different from the broken, frightened animal we carried into the vet three days ago.
Now she’s clean and bright-eyed, panting happily. She’s doing her best to trot despite the new leg throwing off her gait. I can tell she’s figuring it out in real time and she’s not letting it stop her for a second.
I crouch down and she trots straight into my arms like she knows me, which I guess she does, and she shoves her cold wet nose into my neck.
“Hi,” I tell her, a little overcome. Another twist of fate and things might have gone very differently for her. But she’s alive and healing and she’ll have a good life ahead of her now. “Hi, sweet girl. Look at you. So fresh and clean.”
“I bathed her,” Slade says, from somewhere above me. “She tolerated the scrubbing pretty well. She’s still getting used to that leg though.”
Lucky pulls herself away from me and goes to Slade, shoving her big head against his thigh. He reaches down without looking and scratches behind her ears as he talks. “My nephew Jonah met her this morning and the two of them arefast friends already. She loves kids. She’ll make a good family dog.”
“Would your brother be interested in taking her, then?”
Slade lifts a shoulder in a shrug. “I didn’t ask yet. Figured I’d give her some time to settle in here. Besides, Walker and Sadie have twin girls born a couple months ago, so they’ve got their hands full.”
I look at Lucky, who has planted herself directly on top of Slade’s boots and is leaning against his leg with her whole body.
Yes, settling in is exactly what she’s doing.
Secretly, I’m relieved Slade isn’t overly eager to off-load Lucky. I like being a part of her life still. And I like that she’s in such good hands with a certain stoic but surprisingly caring cowboy.
Lucky follows us as we walk further into the house and I take it all in. The high ceilings and reclaimed wood floors. The sleek kitchen appointed with high-end appliances. It’s a beautiful canvas but a blank one, barely even furnished.
