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“You don’t have farm equipment that could cause some damage?”
“Sure,” she said. “But you won’t be using it.”
“I have no idea how to work with horses,” he said. “And believe it or not, there were no riding lessons in River Bay.” He gave her a smile that seemed too tight around the edges. “Lots of other classes, but not that one.”
“You’re smart,” she said, deciding that was a compliment and not a flirtation device. “I think you’ll pick it all up quickly.” She turned to go inside the pizza parlor, adding, “Now, there’s this white pizza that is simply amazing that I think you’ll like. Have you had white pizza?”
“Yes,” he said. “But not for a long, long time.”
* * *
Ginger ateway too much at Papa Bear’s, where the furniture was as big as the pizza. She carried half of their meal in a box while they walked back to the truck. They’d had an enjoyable lunch, making small talk about her family, and his, and the people who worked around the ranch.
He hadn’t met all of them yet, but he claimed to be looking forward to it. She turned up the radio on the truck, and started thinking about an afternoon nap instead of going out to the stables to check on the riding program.
A new batch of riders was starting that day, and Ginger really needed to be out there at three-thirty to make sure everyone got checked in and had a good experience. So she’d go, even if she did just want to lie down for a little while.
She knew she felt like that because she’d eaten too much, and a brisk walk around the ranch to help prep for the class would settle her stomach.
She pulled into the garage closest to the West Wing and killed the engine, ready to get going. Nate, however, didn’t move.
“You okay?” she asked, and he turned his attention to her.
“I wanted to ask you one more thing,” he said.
Ginger draped one arm over the steering wheel. “Shoot.”
“It’s about the rules here at the ranch.”
She grinned at him, at the way he stayed so serious. “Didn’t I say there weren’t really rules?”
“That’s not true, though,” he said. “For example, I can’t just come over to the West Wing whenever I want.”
“Well, that’s true.” She reached for the pizza box on the seat between them. “So what’s your question?”
“It’s about dating,” he said.
Ginger froze, her fingers curled around the cardboard. “Dating?”
“Yeah.” Nate cleared his throat. “Is that allowed? You know, for me?”
“Well, I mean.” She blew out her breath. “You can’t leave the ranch, so I suppose if your date is okay coming here or whatever, then yeah, you can date.”
“What if I wanted to date someone who works at the ranch?”
Her eyebrows shot toward the sky. “Here? At the ranch?” She narrowed her eyes at him.
“Yeah,” he said, finally tearing his gaze from hers. “Someone here at the ranch. Can cowboys date the women in the West Wing?”
Ginger needed to get out of this truck immediately. Her skin itched now, and she wondered who had caught his eye. Probably Michelle. All men liked Michelle. She had the curves they wanted, with the long legs and the flat stomach. Ginger didn’t have curves, which made buying jeans really hard, for the record.
“I mean…I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” Nate watched the door that led into the West Wing, as if the woman he desired would walk through it at any moment. “So there’s no rule against it?”
“No,” Ginger said dumbly, though her heart beat with the reverberations and sound of a gong through her whole body. She should’ve told him there was a rule against cowboys dating the women out here. Then she wouldn’t have to watch him go out with one of her friends.
In that moment, Ginger recognized and acknowledged that she had a crush on this man. Horror filled her, laced with excitement. She hadn’t been out with a man in years. Years and years, if she were being honest.
