After he walked me through the basics of leading Sprinkles, he mounted Praline and fell into step beside me. The horses’ hooves clopped against the ground, occasionally swaying closer to each other and making our legs brush.
I looked over at him. “Can I make a silly request?”
“I bet it’s not silly, but go ahead.”
“Can you take a picture of me?”
His eyes quickly took me in—head to toe—before glancing away. “A picture is a great idea.” He reached down into his thigh pocket and fished out his phone. “I can take it on mine.” He directed Praline a few paces away and lifted the phone. I cheesed even as heat rose in my cheeks.
When he pulled up beside Sprinkles again, he passed the phone to me so I could see. We peered at the picture together.
My face radiated joy.
I giggled. “All I need is a cowgirl hat and I really would be Annie Oakley.”
Before I could even meet his gaze again, a warm hat plopped onmy head, impairing my vision. I laughed. When I pushed the hat off my eyes, my heart rolled in my chest. His hair was matted and sweaty, but he looked…proud of me.
Not for doing things perfect.
But for doing them messy.
“We definitely need to retake the picture.”
I handed him the phone. “Yeah, retake it.”
THIRTY-ONE
Jesse
Hollie’s Volvo rumbled up the gravel drive from the cabins and rolled to a stop right in front of the barn on Thursday morning after the guest breakfast. Yesterday, they’d spent the afternoon by the arena and helped us groom the horses. But seeing them down by the barn before lunchtime was unusual.
I swiped my hands down the front of my shirt, sending hay debris and dust flying through the air.
We had the 3500 pulled up—bed first—to the barn doors and had been tossing down bales of hay to take around to the pastures. Cade pushed a bale from the open hayloft doors, and it landed on the ground with a thump, sending up yet another cloud of dust.
When Hollie popped out of the front seat with a bright smile, my pulse fluttered. Her curls were pinched back with a clip into her usual twist and she wore a fitted athletic tank with matching shorts that provided a generous tease of her tanned legs—legs I’d gotten far too acquainted with the night of Tag and Bea’s wedding. Instantly warding off memories of those legswrapping around my waist was much harder than it should’ve been.
Pretending to be her friend would be easier if she didn’t look so tempting all the time.
It had taken all the self-control I could muster to keep my hands to myself the last few days. Touching her back or shoulder, brushing her hand with mine, or pushing physical barriers in general came like second nature. My body wanted to be close to hers.
But I had to remind myself two dozen times a day that shedidn’t.
“Good morning!” She cooed. Had to admit, she looked much brighter than she did earlier in the week.
“Morning. Where you off to?”
Her gaze darted up to where Cade stood in the hayloft and she lifted a hand to wave at him. Lowering her voice, she said, “That’s what I came to talk to you about.”
“Uh oh.”
“No, everything’s fine. We are going to Costco in San Antonio and I wanted to take the girls to a splash pad not far from where we have to shop. I wanted to invite Cade.”
My brows lifted. Chances were he wouldn’t go, but I’d never intercept an invitation. “You’re more than welcome to ask him.”
“You think he’ll go?”
“No, I don’t. But I hope he does.”
