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He leans his hand on the counter again. This time, it’s right next to where mine is. One millimeter closer and we’d be touching.
“I see. You like seeing people happy. So what makesyouhappy, Molly?”
Why does his voice ooze like honey all over my body and I want him to use those lips of his to lick it all off?
I need sleep.
But I want to answer his question. What makes me happy? Taking care of my sister. Taking care of the horses.Freedom.Though I’ve never really had much of it. I’m trying hard not to make myself small anymore, but equally, baby steps. I don’t think Dash wants me to launch into all that makes me happy. He might never play three questions with me again if I dump on him twice in like, five minutes. So even though I don’t want this game to end, I say, “You’re out of questions, boss.”
He lifts those glossy eyebrows. “Can’t blame me for trying.”
“Been rule-breaking since high school, hey?”
He blows a laugh out of his nose. He waits, arms crossed again for me to ask my last question. I try not to stare but want to make out the black and gray ink all over his arms, wondering again what kind of images a man like Dash feels worthy of immortalizing on his skin. His sleeves are somewhat busy, but one that catches my eye is a Day of the Dead style skull tattoo with a cowboy hat.
Dash must feel my eyes on his skin because he repositions his arms. “Is it that hard to choose another question? Or was it that easy to figure me out?”
I still desperately want to ask him where he goes at night. But this… whatever it is that’s happening, is something I don’t want to risk never happening again. Maybe it’s the people-pleaser in me. Maybe it’s the way he’s just so damn off-limits and for these ten minutes he’s been focused on me.
I’ve never been the popular girl, and this is more than just getting attention. It’s connecting. I think. Maybe I shouldn’t have started this game… So, I settle on an old-fashioned getting-to-know-you question I’ve used since moving away from home and meeting other transient souls. “What’s your favorite place on earth?”
His face gives the same impression I suspect mine did when he asked if I missed my mom. It moves more than it did even when his eyebrows twitched. The question is unwittingly complicated for him just like his was for me. I feel it in my bones—I’ve hit a nerve.
That funny, metallic feeling I get in my belly when I think I’ve made someone uncomfortable tickles deep inside, and I think about giving him an out. I think about telling him mine is somewhere silly and giving him the idea it’s not a serious question. But just like he was, the fact he doesn’t want to answer makes me all the more intrigued. And anyway, I get the impression Dash is comfortable being serious. Just not exposed.
He raps his knuckles on the counter like we’re done here. “You need to get some sleep.” He turns on his heel and walks toward the door.
I watch his broad shoulders and firm, Wrangler-stamped ass walk away from me, bend over, and start putting on a boot. “I’m going to see how things are below with Jolie and Romeo.”
I tell myself over and over that I didn’t do anything wrong, even though it feels like it. He puts on his coat and hat, opens the door, and steps through. But before he closes it, he pokes his head back in a few inches.
Though I can’t see his eyes below the felt rim, his deep, velvet voice answers. “Mustang Valley.”
ChapterNine
MOLLY
I liein bed for a long while, tossing and turning, with two simple words and four syllables impossible to ignore like a pebble in my shoe. I finally fall asleep out of sheer exhaustion.
I set my alarm for the usual time, knowing even I need a few hours of sleep, though there have been plenty of nights when I haven’t had so much extra work, I know I need to rest my body. My alarm goes off at five, and I hop out of bed like I never slept. I want to see Romeo. Dash provided a fantastic distraction, but now, all I can think about is if I missed something important. Like saying goodbye. Things really can turn on a dime with horses. One minute they’re winning a Kentucky Derby, the next minute they’ve had a heart attack or are being put down when they break a leg.
It’s disturbing how quickly animals can be lost, and the thought gives me shivers. I shake my head, trying to jiggle out the pessimism while I finish toweling off. I throw on some clothes, grab my jacket, and smooth on a bobble hat to protect my still-wet hair from the cold morning air.
My stomach gurgles, in part from tiredness, in part from the insanely powerful motor oil cup of joe Dash left behind for me this morning. I need to stay positive. Jolie was there. Dash was there.
When I arrive in the stall, Romeo is there, too.Thank God.He seems a hell of a lot better. Dash is busy tying on a hay net, and Jolie is leaning against the wall like an upright tomb of a pharaoh. Black-lined eyes and all.
“Hey, girl.” No matter that she looks tired, her voice is still bright.
“Wow.” I wrap my arms around the Clydesdale’s neck the best I can on my tiptoes. “Is it just me, or has the big boy recovered?”
“Think so. Often colic passes, but the odds aren’t good enough for me to need a night of sleeping over watching it.” Jolie smiles. “Why are you up so early?”
“I always get up at this time. I just don’t usually hit up the stalls this fast but I had to see how he was.”
Jolie pats Romeo’s flank. “I gave him more pain relief, managed to get more fluids in him after that, and salts. With that, he worked it out on his own.” She checks her watch. “But I’m running some blood tests to rule a few things out and see if he needs a special diet or if there are any preventative things we can do.”
I give her a hug. “Thanks so much for watching him last night and coming by so quickly.”
