“Here he is,” Shane said. Thanks to the high back of the booth, I couldn’t tell who the hell he was talking to.
I stopped next to the table and my heart dropped into my boots. The blonde I’d run into on the way to the bathroom smiled up at me.
“Aiden, this is Paisley. She’s going to be working with some horses we just rescued to see if any of them will work for a new equine therapy program we’re going to put together on the ranch.” Shane grinned and nodded at the empty spot on the bench seat next to her.
Paisley cocked her head, and her full, pink lips split into a wide smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Aiden.”
Fuck. Me. I closed my eyes for a long beat before sliding into the booth. “Nice to meet you too.”
Shane’s brows knit together at my gruff tone. “I didn’t have a chance to fill you in, but the two of you are going to be sharing the bunkhouse until we get one of the cabins fixed up. I figured it wouldn’t be a problem.”
My jaw clenched. What the fuck was he thinking? Did this woman know about my past? There was no way she’d be okay with sharing space with me if she did. I stared at Shane, trying to read his mind.
“No problem at all,” Paisley said as she reached over and patted my hand where it rested on the table. “The bunkhouse has plenty of room for us to each have our own space. Right, Aiden?”
I didn’t like the way she said my name, all light and sing-songy. Or the way my skin burned under her touch. But taking Shane up on his offer to let me crash at the ranch and help him get it back into shape was my only option.
So I slid my hand out from under hers and forced a tight smile. “No problem at all.”
CHAPTER 2
PAISLEY
“Good morning, Sunshine.”I yanked on the curtain that separated my side of the bunkhouse from Aiden’s. We’d been sharing the same quarters for three days now and he’d barely said more than a few words. Just like yesterday and the day before, he’d already left the bunkhouse.
At least he made coffee. The carafe sat on the warming plate, still half full. I grabbed a travel mug off the drying rack and filled it to the top, leaving just enough room for some creamer. Shane had warned me his friend might take a while to warm up, but the man was colder than an arctic glacier. If something didn’t change soon, he might never thaw out.
I slid my arms into my heavy jacket, grabbed my mug, and headed toward the barn. Maybe I’d borrow the kitchen in the big house tonight and bake some of my grandma’s blueberry muffins. They wouldn’t be as good as the ones she used to make since there wasn’t anywhere to pick fresh blueberries in Mustang Mountain in February. Aiden might not like pie, but I’d never seen anyone turn down a blueberry muffin.
Armed with a plan, I tugged the heavy door of the barn open and slipped inside. The comforting smell of horses and hay surrounded me. I inhaled deeply, so grateful Caitlin had invitedme to be part of the ranch. When she told me she was leaving New York to head back to Montana and marry a mountain man, I couldn’t imagine staying in the city without her.
Even though I’d been born and raised in upstate New York, my heart had always yearned for the mountains, for wide open spaces, and for the chance to make something my own. With riding experience from the lessons I took as a kid, and an established private practice as a therapist, I’d never thought of combining the two until Caitlin asked if I wanted to join her in Montana.
I made my way down the line, greeting the horses Shane had rescued by name. “Good morning, Shadow. How’s that hoof of yours, Cinnamon? Are you ready for your breakfast, Flurry?”
They were in bad shape when they arrived last month, but were slowly coming out of their shells. I scooped out grain, replaced the hay, and gave them all fresh water before turning my attention to the cat that had been brushing against my legs.
“Hi there, Samson.” I picked him up and let him nuzzle his head under my chin. It was hard to believe I’d only been in Montana for a few weeks. Already, I felt more at home than I ever had in New York.
The sound of wood splintering apart came from just outside the back of the barn. Curious, I set Samson down and made my way toward the door. With the horses fed, I didn’t have anything to do until my online class started in an hour. I’d signed up for a virtual equine therapy course to help me blend my love of horses and patient skills. Shane had given me total control over putting together a program at the ranch, and I wanted it to be the best.
The door groaned as I slid it open. Samson followed, winding around my ankles as I stepped outside. I tripped over him, lost my footing, and scrambled to grab onto the door. Bracing myself for the impact of the frozen ground, I threw out my hands.
“Don’t you ever watch where you’re going?” Aiden broke my fall, catching me with one arm right before I slammed onto the ground.
I staggered to my feet and stepped back, my cheeks burning. “The cat got in my way. What are you doing out here?”
He gestured to the pile of wood. “What’s it look like?”
His baseball cap sat low on his head, making it impossible to get a good look at his eyes. I couldn’t tell if he was annoyed at our run-in or just as flustered as I was from having his hands on me again. Either way, I refused to leave until I got at least a few more words out of him.
“Thanks for making coffee again this morning. It’s nice having it already done when I wake up.” I offered a smile, hoping he might return this one.
Instead, he nodded and shifted his attention back to the huge log in front of him. “We’re low on firewood.”
“Of course. Don’t let me stop you.” I tucked my hands into my pockets and watched him hoist the axe over his head. He’d taken off his coat, and his thermal henley clung to his chest. The sleeves were pushed up, revealing strong, sinewy forearms. While I stood there, he brought the axe down and split the log in half. I resisted the urge to fan myself. The temperature might be in the single digits, but watching Aiden had sparked an unexpected, though not unwelcome, deep heat inside me.
He ignored my presence and set up another log. The axe swung down, and the sound of the log splitting in two was like the crack of a rifle. The muscles in his arms and shoulders bulged under his shirt. I didn’t know manual labor could make a man look so hot. Feeling awkward as hell for gawking at him, I tried one more time to engage him in conversation.
