Looking from the items spread on the bed to me, she jumps into my arms. “Thank you.” She smacks my lips with a kiss. “Thank you.” Kiss. “Thank you so much.” She finishes with another one.
“Anything for you. You just name it, and it’s yours.” I say it as a vow I intend to keep for a lifetime.
“Oh, Tristan, stop stealing my heart.”
A wide grin stretches the corners of my mouth. “Can’t,mo run, I need to be worthy of claiming it as mine.”
In the car, she bounces up and down, her excitement contagious. “Is the farm a hobby or a business?”
“Both.”
Horses were perhaps the only thing in my childhood that gave me emotional support. And while I breed top performers, it’s also a safe environment for those who are retired, too old to bring in the money.
“I’d love to see a race.”
I dip my chin in acknowledgement, memorizing everything she desires not only to make them a reality but to use them to win her back when things implode between us.
Once we reach the farm, Finn comes over, eyeing me with certainty. He nods her way, realizing she is important if I brought her a second time.
Lifting onto her toes, she slants her mouth onto mine. I fucking love that she doesn’t care we’re in the open, needing me too much to care and takes off, going straight to Altea.
I jerk my chin toward a groom, and he follows her discreetly to watch over her. If something happens to her, there will be a hell of all hells to pay.
“Lady Midnight is pregnant. I have informed some potential clients, and they’re overbidding themselves for a purebred.”
“Good. Keep me informed about her progress,” I say. “Expect a delivery this week.”
He tips his chin in acknowledgment. “If you don’t mind me saying, Boss. You look happy.”
“I do mind. So, keep your thoughts to yourself.”
“Of course. Should I call her the future Mrs. Kinkaid?”
I glare at him. “Treat her as if she’s the most important person in your life.”
“Will do, Boss.”
I stride inside the barn where she caresses Altea’s muzzle, beaming at her before she puts on the halter and brings her out.
“I want to learn faster so we can ride together.”
She says things like that, and my damn heart melts, putty in her hands.
“Be patient. It takes time, and I am not risking your getting hurt.”
She rolls her eyes but purses her lips in acceptance.
Brat.
Once she’s mounted, we spend the rest of the day with her practicing on a lunge line, a sitting trot, and then a posting trot. Noticing she’s comfortable, I even give in and let her off the line to trot on her own in the arena. I am a sucker for her smile.
From the corner of my eye, I catch my men stealing glances at me, looking gobsmacked. I pierce them with a harsh look, and they scatter away, getting back to the one thing they shouldn’t have ignored. Work.
By the time we leave, the sky has turned a deep blue. In the sun’s place, the first stars twinkle above us—where time is irrelevant, and light never fades—endless.
The infinite universe towers over us like a conceited asshole, unbothered by what happens below.
Inside the car, she inhales a deep breath, the sound chock-full of dejection.
