Page 27 of Sunrise & Serenity

Taryn nods. “Well… except for Sterling.”

“True.”

I hold my hands up. “I have no intention of falling for anyone, cocky or otherwise. I’m just here to work and enjoy this beautiful part of the world.”

Patty shrugs. “Either way, it’s nice to see a new face. One who isn’t a tourist, anyway.”

“Thank you,” I say. “And thank you for the food. It looks delicious.”

She beams, then turns on her heel and heads back to the counter to pick up another order.

“Don’t mind Patty. She doesn’t have a filter,” Riley says.

“That’s okay. I’m just not used to people being so… open.”

“You’ll get used to it.” Taryn picks up another fry. “Country folk don’t tend to beat around the bush.”

We dig into our meals then. My sandwich is delicious, and I resist the urge to stuff my face. But even though we chat as much as we eat, we’re soon finished.

“I guess we should get back,” I say to Taryn. “I don’t want to annoy Holden any more than I already have.”

“Don’t worry about him,” she says. “He’s all bark and no bite.”

Probably easier to say when you’re his sister.

She slurps up the last of her milkshake. “Come on, then. Can’t have him thinking he’s scared you off.”

“That might cheer him up,” I murmur.

The girls both laugh.

“He’ll warm up to you,” Taryn says. “Just ignore his grumpiness. He’ll come around eventually.”

But as we leave the diner, I’m not nearly as convinced.

CHAPTER 7

HOLDEN

“Heads up. Your photographer’s back.”

I grunt, tightening my grip on the lead rope and holding firm as the bay stallion jerks his head up. “Not my photographer.”

Still, my eyes cut to the side, and I catch sight of my truck bouncing up the driveway toward the house.

I was on my way back to the barn when Chance called out, asking for my help. According to him, this new stallion is going to sire the next generation of Wild Ember champions. But like me, the horse has an attitude problem. He’s not making it easy for us to get him into his stall. Proving my point, he snorts and dances away from me.

“Wrap your shirt over his eyes,” Chance says.

I nod and toss him the end of the rope. Hopefully, the stallion will calm down once his eyes are covered. After stripping off my shirt, I ease toward him, then slip the fabric up his nose and over his eyes. He snorts again, then freezes, all four hooves planted on the ground, his ribs heaving.

“There’s a good man.” I rub my hand down his sweat-dampened neck.

I can sympathize with his reaction. Having your whole life upended in a moment is enough to make anyone dig their heels in.

“Let’s get him in while he’s calm,” my brother says.

I hold my shirt in place as he applies just enough tension to the rope to get the stallion moving. As we walk, he talks soothingly to the horse, whose ears flick toward him. My brother may be an arrogant asshole most of the time, but he’s a hell of a horseman. I don’t doubt Wild Ember’s breeding program is going to become a world-class operation, and that’s mostly thanks to him. Though with this expansion on our plate now, we have more to worry about than acquiring the best breeding stock.