“I like this,” she says.
“This?”
“Being out here. With you.”
I glance at her, then out over the field.
“It’s so different from all the places I’ve lived growing up,” she says quietly. “It’s peaceful.”
It is. I grew up out here. I forget sometimes that not everyone gets to experience this.
Out here, there’s no noise. No crowd or media breathing down my neck. No one watching to see if I screw up. As much as I want to leave Rixton and play in the NHL, this will always be my home.
My shoulder still aches, but it’s easier to ignore with her beside me with the relaxed smile on her face.
I’m not thinking about our game on Thursday.
I’m just standing here, her body leaning against mine, the breeze pushing her hair across her face until she tucks it back.
For now, I don’t need anything else.
Chapter Sixteen
Brinley
I smell like hay and warm dust by the time we finish chores.
Cooper gives Penalty one last pat before stepping back, shutting the stall door behind him. “That should hold you over for a bit.”
Penalty nudges the door like he disagrees, and Cooper huffs out a laugh. “Or maybe a couple of hours.”
I lean against a wooden beam nearby, watching him move around the barn like he’s done this a million times before. He probably has. It all comes easy to him, like he doesn’t even have to think about it.
He checks the water buckets one last time, then pushes open the side door that leads out toward the workstation. Just past it, the stairs go up to the apartment above the barn.
I follow him outside. A garden hose is coiled along the side of the building, and he bends down to turn on the spigot, letting the water run over his hands.
Dirt and dust wash away as he scrubs his palms together.
I don’t realize I’m staring until he glances up at me.
“What?” he asks.
I shake my head, crossing my arms. “Nothing.”
But it’s not nothing.
There’s just something about him like this—hands dirty, shirt damp, moving like he knows exactly what he’s doing—that does it for me.
He lifts a brow, not buying it.
“You’re staring.”
“Am I not allowed to?” I smirk. “You’re kinda hot.”
He huffs out a quiet laugh and ducks his head under the stream, pushing his hair back as he rinses off the back of his neck.
When he straightens, he lifts the hose to his mouth and drinks straight from it, wiping his lips with the back of his hand afterward.
