“That’s what I thought.” The smirk on his face was taunting, and he knew she loved it.
Justin gently moved her aside and reached into the washing machine to retrieve what she’d been diving for in the first place. It was, in fact, a sock, and a pair of underwear. He held them both up for her to see, and his eyes darkened with an idea.
“Which one were you trying to grab?”
“My sock, but I wanted them both…”
He put his hands behind his back and started to shuffle things around.
“What are you doing?” she asked, confused.
“Pick a hand. Whichever one you don’t choose, I get to keep. Right or left?”
Her mouth dropped open, and she leaned to the side, popping her hip out. The look on her face was a mix of surprise and determination. Would she play his game?
“Riii-left!” Her hands flew up to cover her face, fingers splitting so one eye could peek through.
He knew the grin that broke over his face would give him away entirely. He brought his right hand out first, a single sock hanging from the tips of his fingers.
“This can go into the dryer with the rest of your things…”
Blythe reached out and grabbed the sock as her lips pressed into a flat line.
“Why on earth can’t I have my undies back, too?” Her brows were pinned.
He could tell she was at least mildly annoyed. With the hand that was holding them, Justin tucked the pair of black panties into his back pocket. He brought his right hand up to rub his chin, pretending he was in deep thought over his answer.
“Think of it as my prize for saving a damsel in distress.” He winked and moved past her, walking to his bedroom and closing the door behind him.
BLYTHE
She stood there in disbelief. Had he seriously tucked her plain, black,granny pantiesinto his pocket and kept them? What the hell for? They weren’t pretty or laced or bikini cut…they were hideous! She valued her comfort over vanity, especially because no one had ever been in her pants. She'd never gotten to the point of purchasing lingerie when she was engaged. She hadn’t even had a bridal shower. The wedding date hadn’t been planned until fall, and it just didn’t seem important at the time.
Justin popped back out of his room, shirt on and pocket empty.
“Did you eat already?” He sounded chipper and ready to take on the work day.
She told him that she had, so Justin grabbed a banana and a cereal bar for the road. Today was an observation day. She assumed he would go over the logistics and paperwork soon, but today she was excited to just watch and see him in action.
She hadn’t realized that being a farrier was much more than taking horse shoes on and off. Justin made each shoe custom to each hoof. He had to remove debris, file, clip, glue and shine. Watching him was like watching Van Gogh or Leonardo DaVinci paint. He was so careful and deliberate with each horse. She listened as he explained that if a shoe didn’t fit just right, the horse could throw it and get seriously injured. It was beautifulto see someone who did what they loved for a living—not for the money, but for the joy and the satisfaction of it.
Maxwell Harrison did nothing for joy—maybe satisfaction, but in all the wrong ways. He did things for money, for power, and for control. Blythe couldn’t help but make constant comparisons between the two men because they were just so different—worlds apart. She hadn’t heard from him since the last creepy text message he’d sent. But she knew him. He was always about mind games, even if she hadn’t seen them before. She most certainly could see them now, and she knew it was his mode of operation. He was spineless when it really counted, and she was glad he’d given up and left her alone.
The day was long, and they were both tired when they got home.
“Can we have cereal?” Blythe cringed inside, feeling bad she even asked. Cereal wasn't a hearty meal for a cowboy that just worked his guts out all day.
Justin smiled and opened the pantry. “I’ve seriously been craving a bowl of coco puffs for a week.”
She smiled back in relief. They ate on the couch, and per usual, Blythe started nodding off. Justin wrapped her between his legs, and she melted into him. Maybe it was his sneaky way of sleeping next to her. If it was, she didn’t care, because she loved sleeping by him, too.
“Are we going to stay here tonight?” There was sarcasm in her voice as she giggled. Justin pinched her in a tease and dropped his lips to her cheek.
“If that’s what I need to do to justify having you in my arms all night—you bet, sugar. Grab the blanket.”
Blythe was asleep, but he wasn’t. The day had been perfect. She took notes, watched what he did, met all his clients, and was a ray of sunshine the entire time. He was whipped—fucking hog tied and dragging behind the horse she was riding. Not an ounce of motivation lived inside him to keep putting together the apartment she was supposed to live in. He knew her reasons, even if she didn’t think he did.
She was scared.
