Then she’s spinning back to us, dancing on feet that can’t stay still. “Dad, this is Dylan. He bought the horses from Grandpa Bill. Remember I told you about Fury—Dylan’s horse. He was going to be killed, but Dylan saved him. And he saved Moonlight’s foal. I called him Quicksilver.”
“That was all your mom, Mad,” Dylan cuts in before extending a hand to Hooper. “Dylan Sullivan.”
Hooper stares at the offered hand for a second too long before shaking it. “Hooper Greene.” Hooper is already smiling, waiting for Dylan to make the connection to the famous country singer. I love it that he doesn’t.
Then Hooper tilts his head. “Sullivan… Football Sullivan? Don’t you play for the Stormhawks with your brothers?”
I wonder if I imagine the way Dylan’s shoulders tense at the mention of football. The question leaves an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach, but Dylan simply states, “I’m retired.”
“Oh yeah. Think I heard about that. So it’s horses now. That’s one hell of a career change,” Hooper says, laughing like he’s made the funniest joke.
There’s a pause. I’m aware of Madison looking between us, but my eyes fix on Dylan. He makes asound low in his throat, something close to a laugh. His eyes flick to mine, amusement dancing in them. And suddenly, I know exactly what he’s thinking.
This guy. This is the guy you married?
This is the kind of man who never put his mouth on your?—
A blush flares up my neck and I can’t stop the laugh from bubbling up, biting out of me. I sense Dylan’s shoulders shake from beside me and it only makes me laugh harder.
“What’s funny?” Madison asks, wanting in on the joke.
“It’s nothing,” I splutter. “We should probably get inside.”
Madison tilts her head. “Mom, you look different.”
I make a show of looking down at my jeans and the dry tank top I just threw on. “Do I?”
“Yeah,” she says, brow furrowing. “You look less grumpy.”
Dylan barks out another laugh.
“Wow, what a compliment.” I press a hand to my chest in mock offense.
Hooper smirks, arms crossing over his chest. “She’s not wrong. You do look… different.” His eyes flick between me and Dylan like he’s making the connection.
“Yeah.” I roll my eyes. “Don’t tell me—I look less like I want to kill someone with a pitchfork, right?”
Madison nods eagerly. “Yeah! That’s it!”
Dylan is full-on smiling now, and I shoot him a glare.
“I’m getting that a lot,” I mutter.
Dylan leans in, breath hot on my neck as he speaks so quietly only I can hear. “Wonder why that is, Brooks.”
I don’t dignify that with an answer, but there’s nothing I can do to avoid the heat burning beneath my skin.
“Can’t I just be happy to see my daughter?” I ask.
From across the driveway, a horse whinnies and it’s enough to bring us all back to this moment.
“I’d better get going,” Dylan says. “Good to meet you, Hooper.” He starts to stride away and I really love that Dylan didn’t mention Hooper’s fame. Didn’t even let on he knew who he was. It’s the kind of thing that will annoy the hell out of Hooper. But then, unexpectedly, he stops and turns.“Hey, Mad, do you wanna come meet Quicksilver?” Dylan asks.
“Yes!” Mad jumps in the air, throwing a wave back to Hooper. “Bye, Dad,” she calls, already skipping toward the paddock, Dylan keeping pace beside her. She says something to him and he laughs. I want to follow, to drink up every second of Mad’s time here, but then Hooper opens his mouth and it stops me in my tracks.
“Bye, princess. Hopefully see you tomorrow.”
Heat streaks through me and I round on him. “Hopefully?” I say quietly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
