I want to be mad at him, but all I feel is sad for Dean. I melt into Reed’s arms the moment he touches me. “No, I know.”
“It’s going to be okay,” he whispers into the strands of hair that tangle around my face. “Speaking from experience, he just needs some time.”
I nod—or nuzzle my nose, I’m not sure which—into the comfort of his shirt. Even after endless hours of sweaty work, it still smells like him.
“It’s been almost two weeks without a day off,” he says. “I think we could use a little fun.”
Leave it to Reed Morgan to be thinking about fun at a time like this.
I tip back so I can meet his eyes. “What exactly do you have in mind?”
His face morphs into the brightest most infectious smile as he grips my hand and takes off across the open ranch field, towing me along.
“Where are we going?” I shout. With all of the trees cut down, it looks so desolate now. For a moment, I feel sorry for the owners. But the alternative would have been losing the entire property, and even the thought of that is a shame. Especially this part of it.
“Look at how majestic they are,” I gasp as our steps slow beside a herd of grazing Appaloosas. I run my hand along a spotted coat, and the horse whinnies when I lean my cheek against its muzzle.
“Wow. Bear defense, horse whisperer… I’ve got my very own Steve Irwin.” Reed watches me with an amused grin.
I smirk over my shoulder as I round the perimeter of the two-story barn. “What can I say… my talents are endless.”
“I have no doubt.” He chuckles and skips to catch up to me. “What else should I be preparing myself for?”
“I guess you’ll have to wait and see,” I say, pressing my ear against the barn door. I jiggle the handle but the latch clangs near the top.
“Hailey Hart,” he gasps, gripping his hips. “Are youbreakinginto a barn?”
I fiddle with the flappy clasp, giving it a good tug. “I don’t see any breaking, do you?”
The door hinges groan as I slip inside the small opening. Hefollows after me and toes the door shut behind us. Light spills through the gable windows that line the second story.
A John Deere factory threw up in here. Everything from excavators to dump trucks and riding lawn mowers to a lone combine with hay bales on the side fill the barn. Not a single animal stall in sight.
“I can’t believe you broke into a storage shed,” he teases from behind me. “I was supposed to be showingyouthe fun time.”
I spin around to face him. “So… show me then.”
He surveys the space until his eyes catch on something in the back corner.
“Bull’s-eye,” he says, weaving us through the heavy machinery. His broad shoulders block the object he’s beelining for, but knowing Reed, it’s a good time whatever it is. When he finally stops in front of a pile of hay, I step to the side to take it in—white with black spots and two giant horns protruding from the head.
“A mechanical bull?” I gasp.
“Don’t knock it. People have their things.” He winks at me.
“And by things you mean a one-way ticket to a concussion?”
He tromps through the straw, searching the ground until he finds a black cord snaking through the golden clump. In a squat, he plugs it into the nearest outlet. “Have you ridden one before?”
With a skeptical glance, I eye the rusty hinges. “Well, no, but…”
“You might like it. Here.” He holds out his fire helmet to me.
I back away. “There’s no way I’m getting on that thing.” It’s dangerous and reckless. We’re miles from the nearest doctor, and not to mention, we snuck away from camp. This bucking bronco isn’t going to be quiet.
He closes in on me. “I’ll catch you if you fall. That promise worked once before, right?”
“That was aswing, Reed. Not a tornado on a stick!”
