“Oh, come on, Kasey. You’re going to have to get used to me being around. Might as well get started.”
My chest deflates. “Right.”
I keep my eyes trained on the road as we meander through town. Silence settles between us, and I don’t like it. It’s not the comfortable silence we used to share in this truck, when I had one hand wrapped around her knee while she gazed out her open window. Now it feels like an unwanted third party.
She must feel it too, because soon she’s flipping on the old radio, twisting the knob through the stations until she finds a song she knows. It’s fast-paced and belty, some pop song I’venever heard before. She turns the volume up, singing along and nodding her head in tandem with the beat.
God, she always had terrible taste in music. Guess that’s something that hasn’t changed.
Fifteen minutes later, I pull up the narrow dirt road that leads to my cabin. I don’t know what Ava’s plans are, but I meant it when I said I didn’t need her help, and I’m not sure I have the heart to stick around and make her comfortable. She’s a big girl, and she asked for this. Plus, maybe she’s right—she’s going to be staying here soon, so I might as well get used to it.
I park, and we both jump out of the truck. She trails behind me up the handful of steps to the front porch and through the door. “There’s stuff for sandwiches in the fridge if you’re hungry, and I think there’s still a couple of beers. Remote for the TV is on the coffee table.” I don’t look at her as I set my hat crown down on the kitchen table before heading to my room to change.
“I’m not hungry,” she says. I head for my dresser, yanking a fresh T-shirt out of the middle drawer before working to unbutton the dress shirt I put on this morning for church. As soon as I get it off, I let it drop to the floor. “I said I wanted to help.”
I turn to find her watching me through the open door to my bedroom, her eyes roaming across my chest. It sends a lick of heat down my spine. “Do you mind?”
Her cheeks pink, and she turns around. “Didn’t realize you’d become such a prude.”
“I’m not a prude,” I grumble, pulling the tee over my head before marching back out into the living room. She’s hung her purse on the hook by the door and holds my hat in her hands.
“Let me help,” she whines. “I could use an afternoon with horses.”
I look pointedly at her dress and her little sparkly sandals as I snatch my hat back. “You’re not dressed for ranch work, Ava.”
“How about I decide what I’m comfortable working in,Kasey.”
I shake my head. “Fuck. Stubborn as hell.”
She has the audacity to laugh. “Surprised you expected anything different. Let’s go, cowboy.”
I watch her head toward the door, a hot dose of irritation flooding through my skin. This isn’t helping . . . being near her like this. Her smell is all around me and her eyes seem to have become a brighter blue in the last ten years—is that even possible? And, shit, herhair. The way it blows in the breeze, kicking up along her elbows and shoulders. I can’t stand it.
I need to figure out how to stay unaffected, how to numb myself to her. As much as I hate to admit it, maybe her sticking around will help—exposure therapy, like when we introduce a new horse to the rest of the herd in the pasture. It takes some time, but usually everyone figures out how to exist together in harmony.
Harmony might be a stretch, but . . .
“You coming?” she calls from the porch. I didn’t even realize she’d made it out the door.
I let out a resigned sigh. “Yeah.”
Jumping back in the truck, we make the short drive to the main house and my stomach rolls with the thought of my family seeing Ava with me. My brothers know what’s going on, but I haven’t broached the subject with my mom. Although, knowing Brooks, he probably already told her. I doubt she’s happy about it. I bet my dad is losing his mind at the thought of me making the sheriff's daughter a Bennett, but it’s not like he’ll leave the house to come tell me to my face.
I park in front of the house and cut the ignition, pushing out the door. Ava follows suit, scrambling to keep up with me as I move swiftly toward the main barn. I’ll feel better when we aren’t in view of the windows, which is ironic considering I’m afull-grown man and should have zero qualms about my parents seeing me with a girl.
We round the house toward the barn and find Wells on a horse in the corral. Layla is perched up on top of the fence, her legs dangling beneath her, a pair of flower-embroidered boots on her feet. A design of Melody’s, if I were to guess. She turns to look at us, eyes widening when she notices Ava. “Hey!” she calls out over the distance, waving a hand in the air.
This gets Wells’s attention. He turns in the saddle to find us, scratching a knuckle over his brow. There’s a streak of dirt smeared across the front of his shirt, like he’s been rolling on the ground. “Where do you need me?” I ask him.
“Rhett’s finishing up in the barn,” he says back. “Check the board—we need to pull three or four more horses out today before we’re done.”
“Pull them out for what?” Ava asks next to me.
“Training,” I say, beelining it for the office. She stays hot on my heels, looking at the piles of old furniture and gear once we get inside.
“Was this here before?” she asks.
“Yep.”
