Tate leans forward and brushes his lips against mine in a tease of a kiss. He moves to step back, but I grip his shirt and pull him close, capturing his mouth with mine. He briefly smiles against me before taking control and sliding his tongue against mine, finally ending with a gentle nip.
Our silence is comfortable as we slowly move to the other end of the facility, stopping to visit each horse along the way. I can’t get over how clean the place is. All of the stalls seem freshly cleaned and it doesn’t smell unpleasant. I briefly wonder how many people help run this place. We come to a stop to watch the girl practice. Aside from the roughstock events, barrel racing has always been my favorite. I wish I hadn’t let my mom talk me out of learning. One of the trainers at my aunt’s facility had a background in it, but I passed up on the opportunity.
“You okay?” Tate’s voice startles me a bit, completely derailing my train of thought.
“Yeah. I was just watching her. I’ve always loved barrel racing.”
“You know how to ride. You should give it a shot.”
I stare at him, wide-eyed. “I don’t know how to ride likethat,”I protest. “And I am thirty-three years old. Way too old to be falling off a horse trying to do something cool.”
Tate chuckles and pulls me close before returning his attention to the arena. I’m not sure how long we watch the young woman practice, but I could have probably watched all night had a sweet voice not interrupted us.
“Tate, honey, I’m so glad you made it back here.”
I turn to find a woman who appears to be in her late fifties approaching. She’s pretty, and not the sweet grandma-looking type. Her skin is tanned, and she’s wearing an off-the-shoulder tee, boot-cut jeans, and worn cowboy boots. Her brown hair is streaked with gray and piled on top of her head in the perfect messy bun. She’s very pretty in an effortless kind of way. If it wasn’t for the smile lines and slight crow’s feet around her eyes, I would mistake her for my age.
“Hi, Mrs. Egleston. Thanks for having us,” Tate says, pulling the woman into a hug.
“Tate, don’t go calling me that just because your beautiful friend is with you.” She turns and directs her attention to me. “Hi, honey, I’m Martha. I’ve heard a lot about you. It’s nice to put a face with the name.”
I reach out my hand, but she pulls me into a brief hug. “Thanks for having us. This place is amazing.”
“Oh, sweetheart, you’re welcome anytime. You both are. If you’re interested, you two can ride a few trails before supper. John will likely be out working for another hour or so.”
My ears perk up at the suggestion of a trail ride. I’ve been dying to get back to it ever since my first time at Tate’s. There’s nothing better than enjoying nature while on the back of a majestic animal.
“Really? Can we?” I look from Martha to Tate, and back.
“Yeah, come on,” he says before turning to Martha. “We’ll be back in time for supper.”
Martha is an amazing cook. I didn’t even realize how hungry I was until I started eating. But each bite was so delicious, I just couldn’t stop. I sip my coffee and look around the table, watching the conversation I’m not paying attention to. This feels a lot like some version of meeting the parents, and I don’t hate it. John is just as friendly and welcoming as Martha. He doesn’t look as young as Martha, but judging by his strength and energy, his age doesn’t mean anything.
“Can I get you another piece of pie?” Martha offers.
“Oh, I couldn’t, but thank you. I’m not even sure how I managed to eat so much. Everything was delicious,” I respond.
“Oh, thank you; I’m glad you enjoyed it. Will you be staying the night? I wasn’t sure, but I went ahead and got a room ready.” Martha stops clearing dishes while she waits for a response.
My brows shoot up. Tate never said anything about staying the night anywhere. Well, Tate really didn’t say much of anything at all. It’s a bit awkward since we haven’t even been seeing each other for long, but I don’t hate the idea.
“What do you think, sweetheart?” Tate asks while he places a hand over mine. “If you want to leave, we can. If you want to stay, that’s also okay.”
Tate keeps his voice low, and Martha has gone back to clearing the table and chatting with her husband. The conversation is just between the two of us. I’m not sure how I should answer, so I shrug.
“Joy? It’s okay if you want to go back. This is like a second home to me, and it’s practically a bed and breakfast as often as they have people staying here. Wherever they put us it will be somewhere private. But I’m also fine driving home. It’s your call.”
My call? “Well, what do you want to do?”
He looks down before a shy smile slips free. “I kind of like the idea of stealing you for a little getaway.”
And just like that, I don’t care what we do or where we go, as long as he looks at me like that. Shy smile still in place, his dark eyes search mine. His gaze is intense, but I don’t want it to leave me. I feel like he’s seeing all of me, and I like it.
“I don’t have clothes…”
“Yes, you do. In the bag Rayna packed for you,” he says, interrupting me.
“Wait. What?”
