They never made me burn from the inside out.
She adjusts her gaze down again and looks all around.“It’s like a church in here,” she whispers.“It’s the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen.”
Her eyes are filled with wonder when she looks up at me.She blinks.“Can I ask you a question?”
“Of course.”
“This might sound dumb…”
“It won’t.”
“I’ve never been in a barn before.I thought it would smell bad.But—” She closes her eyes and inhales.“It’s like somebody sprayed perfume in here.Sweet but earthy.I had no idea.”Her eyes open slowly.A lopsided smile spreads on her face.
Oh, fuck.
“Like grass in the rain mixed with wood and leather.”She taps a fist to the middle of her sternum.“It hits me right here.”
This girl already understands.
“You sure you’ve never been on a horse before?”
She laughs.“I think I’d remember.Why?”
“Just checking.I’ve always called that particular smell ‘barn bliss.’”
“Ha!That’s perfect.”
If don’t kiss her, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.
“Can I see your new horse?”
“Absolutely.”I swallow.I pull myself together and begin to show her around.
Aside from a few horses, it’s empty in here.Summer is out on the rim with Special K.I saw Joe raking and grading one of the outdoor pens.Declan is probably napping.Evander is almost certainly working, since that’s his jam.The rest of the ranch staff is scattered in outbuildings or out on the range.
We have the barn to ourselves.
“This is incredible, Finn.”
“I think so too.I built it to house our expanding horse breeding business.”
I proceed to tell her everything she never wanted to know about my damn barn.I’m sure she’s bored, but I can’t seem to stop talking.
I tell Emma about the Brazilian hardwood and powder-coated steel.And about my plans for Yosemite Ranch’s Quarter Horse breeding operation for champion racing, reining, roping, showing, and barrel racing lines.
Then I tell her about all the different types of working horses here at the ranch and the strengths of each breed—the athleticism of Arabians, the easy-going nature and physical power of Quarter Horses, the spirit of Saddlebreds, and the intelligence of Paints.I show her examples of a few munching on hay in their stalls.
That’s when I realize we’ve been in here over a half hour and I’ve talked her ear off.
“Sorry,” I say.“You’re probably bored out of your mind.”
“The opposite.I’m not used to people talking about the future with such hope.It’s a nice change.”
I frown at her.I don’t like the sound of that—not one bit.
“What I mean is, this is fascinating to me, a whole world I didn’t even know existed.And you’re very passionate about it.I can tell.”
She’s right.
