I let out a bark of laughter. I don’t know what the hell else to do with myself when she asks a question like that.
I know all about surviving. Beyond that, I got nothing.
“I’m gonna need you to explain that one,” I say, if only to buy myself some time. I like this side of Billie—the one that takes the deep dive into ideas and life—a little too much. Probably why I never let myself experience it before now. I always stopped her before our conversations could get too…real.
Now I’m feeling seen, I’m curious, and I’m turned on, and I like this shit just a little too much.
Billie sucks a bit of melted chocolate off her thumb. I nearly choke.
Or I really do choke, because Billie’s expression contracts. “You okay?”
“Yep.” I pound my fist against my chest. “Went down the wrong pipe.”
“Idoowe you an accompaniment to the ER, so just say the word and we’ll be on our way.”
I laugh. “You don’t owe me anything. Explain.”
“You sure you’re okay?”
“I’m sure.”
“Okay.” She takes a deep breath. “You know my dad has me doing the ranch’s bookkeeping.”
“Yep.”
“I did well in those online classes I took after I graduated high school because, well, I like to learn new stuff, and it gave me a sense of purpose, which was helpful.”
“You always did well in school. No surprise you crushed those classes.”
“Well, when I was younger, I thought I might like doing it as a career. The accounting stuff. Or, at the very least, I wouldn’t hate it. Dad was so convinced that I was the perfect person to take over that job. He’d outsourced it until then to an accountant in Austin, but he’d wanted to bring the role in-house for a while.”
I tuck the tinfoil back over the blondies so the flies don’t get at them. “Makes sense. Especially with y’all expanding your operation.”
“Right. So anyway, I agreed to do it. But I began to figure out pretty quickly that I didn’t love accounting. Mom and Dad were so proud, though, and I’m decent with numbers, so”—she shrugs—“I did it. Now I’m realizing that I was kind of sleepwalking through the past few years. That’s why I decided I wanted to learn barrel racing when we hired Ava and started our training program. Seemed like a random idea at the time—most girls, you know they start that shit young, training as soon as they can stay upright in the saddle. Thinking back on it, though…I knew I needed an outlet. Something to wake me up. Being in thearena, having an excuse to work with Ava and her team, being on horseback again—it was what kept me from losing my mind sitting at a desk all day. Having that to look forward to.”
“And now that you don’t have that outlet…” I glance at the arm she cradles carefully against her chest. “It’s really hitting home how unhappy you are sitting at a desk.”
A look of almost pained relief washes over her face. “Yes. Wow, Ry, for someone so good-looking, you’re awfully intuitive.”
“Deadly combination.”
“Makes sense why you had to resuscitate me that one time.”
I roll my eyes. My face hurts from smiling so much. “So now you want to cut some hay with me because you can’t get on a horse, and you also can’t stand the idea of going back to work and entering expenses into a spreadsheet for eight hours straight because it makes you feel like you’re asleep at the wheel again.”
Now the look on her face is one of utter delight. “You really are deadly.”
“The hay thinks so too.” I offer her my hand, setting the plate of blondies on top of the tractor’s rear wheel well. “All right then, little lady, you paid the fee. Now let’s get to work.”
She grins. “This is the kind of work I like.”
“Figuring out a way to survive your life? Fuck that. Billie, we’re gonna get youthriving.”
That’s rich, coming from you.
Then again, aren’t I the expert in what being in survival mode costs you? I don’t want Billie to have to numb herself like I do. I want more for her.
What if you wanted more for yourself too?
