Regardless, I’ll take what I can get today. I saw her wince when I suggested a horseback ride and the picnic, and I didn’t realize until after the words were out of my mouth how romantic they sounded. I don’t deserve her even entertaining a day with me, let alone a picnic.
She closes up her office and locks the door. I find it funny how she and her family swear up and down that my security detail and DeSoto are ridiculous, that Plain Daisy Ranch is safe, but she locks that door up tighter than a drum every time she leaves.
She steps into the hallway, and I motion for her to go first because though I wasn’t raised behind a white picket fence, I’m not a total douchebag. Or maybe I am because all I can think is that the view is a nice reward for being gentlemanly. I remember gripping those plump ass cheeks as she rode me on the bench of my tour bus.
We walk out the back door, and she keeps going.
“Aren’t you going to lock the door?” I ask, searching for a reason why she’d lock her office but not the venue itself.
She shrugs. “My mom will probably come by, and besides, this is Plain Daisy Ranch.”
“But you lock your office.” My eyebrows raise.
She shoots me a smile that feels a little flirtatious. My dick takes notices. “Well, I can’t let everybody know all my secrets.”
She pauses as though she’s going to say something more but turns away from me and walks toward the UTV.
“You sure you can drive this?” she asks, dangling the keys in front of me. “When’s the last time you even drove yourself around anywhere?”
I chuckle, hold my hand out, and our fingers brush. Electricity shoots up my arm. It’s a bad sign. A really bad sign. I can’t entertain something with Romy again. My lifestyle doesn’t afford us anything more than what we already shared. My lifestyle and me.
We climb into the UTV. I place the key in the ignition and turn to her. “Just so you know, I do have a license, and sometimes I even drive instead of DeSoto… all by myself, if you can believe it. There’s a lot more to me than just the singer and the star.”
She holds my gaze. Something tells me to turn around, break our connection.
Romy floors me when she says softly, “I know.”
And damn, I feel more seen in this moment than I ever have. The time I spent with Romy was limited—three dates. Extended dates, but still only three. And somehow, even in that short time, I always felt like she saw a different version of me. One I don’t show anyone else. Not even Beau.
Unbeknownst to me, maybe I let her in a little at a time. A sliver here and a sliver there. Not through vomiting out my trauma to her, but her listening and observing. And I think that’s what kills me the most now. I pushed her away because I didn’t want anyone to know the real me. Letting someone in means giving them the power to destroy you, and I mastered the lesson of keeping everyone at arm’s length a long time ago.
I straighten, clear my throat, start the engine, and we drive toward The Getaway Lodge. Jensen’s already inside. We both duck in, grab the basket, and get out before anyone really notices—although Darla gave us a second glance from the dining room where the crew is eating.
As we drive, I decide to bring up the horseback riding again to gauge how she feels about it. “Point me in the direction of the stables.”
She hems and haws. “I actually have another spot I want to show you, but we need the UTV cause it’s a little farther away. Is that okay?”
She shifts in her seat, and her gaze shifts away from me. I’ve been around enough people in my life to know when someone’s lying. Years of foster care drilled that into me. The fake smiles, the empty promises. The “we love you, we want you here forever” right before they send you packing for one reason or another.
Romy’s hiding something. But for today, I’ll give her a pass. God knows I’ve kept enough shit from her.
She directs me around the ranch in a more sweeping tour than the introductory one on the day I arrived. This place is fucking massive. We pass the lake, and she points out the dock and says it’d be a good spot to show the couple splashing around in the water. We pass the horse stables, but don’t actually go in. She introduces me to their ranch mascot Bessie, a Guernsey cow they all tell their problems to. She is super sweet as we stand by the fence line. Then Romy shows me the flower shop, the greenhouse, the bee area, the vineyard her uncle tends to, and a lot of the land where the cows graze.
As we drive past Daisy Hill, she directs me up another path. “I don’t know if Scarlett mentioned this, but please don’t film anything on Daisy Hill.”
“I figured when your mom mentioned paying your respects. Is it a family cemetery?”
“Yeah, my Aunt Daisy, who the ranch is named after, died young. She’s buried there, as well as all my grand and great-grandparents. I get that it would probably be great for the video?—”
I place my hand on her thigh. “It’s off-limits. I got it.”
Her body relaxes under my touch, and as much as I don’t want to pull my hand away, I do. “Thanks.”
“I get it.” And I do. She’s so rooted in family. While I’ve mostly been on my own my entire life, I can spot it easily. Probably because it’s something I grew up wanting.
We head toward a creek and an open field.
“Is this the spot everyone wanted us to use?” I ask.
