Something comes over me—I don’t know what—and has me inviting her to go with me to Jameson’s. I don’t think she’ll agree, but as I walk outside, about to leave, she’s waiting by my car. The sight of her ass leaning against the side shouldn’t have me reactingin such a feral way, but it does. The way she was pressed against me just last night is at the forefront of my mind. Now her tall frame is right here with her arms crossed looking annoyed.
Bruno trots ahead of me, and bumps his head against her gently, allowing her to reach down and scratch his head.
“You joining us?” I ask, reaching around her to open the passenger door for Bruno to jump in.
“I thought about it, but I don’t think there’s room.”
“There’s plenty, you and Bruno can cuddle in the front seat. Or you can ride in my lap.” I smirk.
Bailey scoffs, and rolls those pretty green eyes at me. I’m keeping track because at this point I’m going to have her ass so red from every single time she’s done that to me. “That’s dangerous, I’ll leave you two to have your time together alone.”
Standing up straight, I raise my eyebrow at her before signaling to Bruno to get into the small backseat. It’s cramped and there isn’t enough room for it to be a seat a person can actually fit into, but it’s perfect for him and it frees up the front seat for my stubborn guest.
She grumbles something under her breath, but climbs in the car acting like I’m forcing her to come with me when she’s the one that made the decision to join. Even though she doesn’t want to admit it, I don’t think she actually dislikes me all that much either.
Once we getto the barn and I start feeding the horses, I notice Bruno sticking by Bailey’s side, which I find interesting. He’s been friendly enough to Emily, but really the only other person he’s been that comfortable with and attached to is me.
“What can I do?” Bailey asks.
“Entertain Bruno,” I grunt, swinging another hay bale down to untwine.
“You wanted me to come with you to entertain your dog?”
I don’t bother correcting her that he’s technically not my dog because it seems like a pointless argument to have with her right now.
“You could entertain me, too,” I joke.
“I think I’d rather entertain the dog.”
“Come on. You’re the one that said I don’t know anything about you. So tell me something.”
“You first.”
I drop two flakes down into one of the stalls, moving onto the next one while I think about something I would be willing to share. “I’m from Arizona.”
“Really? Why’d you move here?” She sounds surprised.
“Why did you?” I look at her from the hay loft, and she scrunches her face.
She doesn’t say anything right away, and right when I thinkwe’re just going to let the silence between us continue, she finally speaks again. “I’m from Ohio.”
I try to hide my shocked expression that she even said anything.
“Where else have you lived?” she asks. The fact that she wants to know more about me enough to ask has a smile playing at my lips, but I hold back.
“Lots of places. You don’t want the whole list. The Army moved me around quite a bit during the ten years I was in.”
Would’ve moved me around more if I’d gotten to stay in like I planned.
“Which was your favorite?” she questions, and again I’m surprised she’s asking more.
I think about it while feeding the last horse, then climbing down to the floor level. She’s sitting in a chair petting Bruno as I answer.
“Japan.”
“Why?”
“It’s my turn to ask something.”
