CHAPTER THREE
I shield my eyes against the summer sun and watch the young rider ease her horse to a standstill in the center of the outdoor ring. “Great job today, kiddo. You’re a fast learner.”
Polly beams from astride her trusty steed. “Thanks, Miss Cassidy. It’s ’cause you’re the best instructor ever.”
My smile mirrors hers as I approach to assist in her dismount. The horse stands patiently, more than accustomed to this process. “That’s a rave review. Be sure to tell your friends.”
Her boots hit the dirt in a puff. “Uh-huh, I talk about Fire Engine nonstop. They’re super jealous I get to ride such a big horse.”
“And he’s such a good boy.” I pat the Appaloosa gelding on his spotted shoulder.
This guy is practically bombproof and the most reliable babysitter I own. Every beginner starts with him. Fire is responsible for carrying the weight of many who became professional equestrians.
“So sweaty.” Polly rubs the gelding’s neck under his mane where he’s wet. She flips the thick hair over to the other side and blows on the slick area.
“He’s not the only one.” I fan my face, which does little to cool me off. “It’s a scorcher.”
Her nose wrinkles. “Huh?”
“It’s a very hot day,” I rephrase.
Even though most of the arena is shaded by trees, the July heat is beating down on us in relentless rays. My skin is slick and I haven’t moved much in the last thirty minutes. Fire hardly got a workout himself but that’s on purpose. I schedule the low impact lessons on afternoons like this, if I even do them at all.
“Should I walk him around?” Polly slides the reins from over Fire’s head and holds them in a tight grip as if he’s an unpredictable weanling.
“Great idea, kiddo. Take off your helmet and give yourself a breather too.”
“I almost forgot.” The little girl giggles while unclasping the strap under her chin. “Much better.”
She plops the sparkly dome on a nearby post before guiding her mount around the edge of the ring. I watch their lazy gait until a dust cloud coming from the driveway steals my attention. An unfamiliar truck winds along the gravel path. My eyes strain to identify who’s behind the wheel but they’re too far away yet. A sinking feeling drops in my stomach that it might be another lackey from Sutherland Homes. The construction company has been hounding me for months.
Polly and Fire finish their lap, pausing besideme. “Is that good?”
I check the gelding’s slick chest to make sure he’s not too warm. There’s foam forming under his breast collar but he’s good to go. “Would you like to hose him down? He loves getting pampered after a ride.”
“Oh, yes! Please, please,” she whines.
“You’ve got it.” I grab the walkie from where it’s clipped to my pocket. “Hey, Anna?”
Static crackles through the speaker before the boarder who assists with chores answers. “What’s up, Cass?”
“Can you please come get Fire and rinse him off? Polly is going to lend a hand.”
“Absolutely. Be right there,” Anna replies.
After the trio disappears into the barn, I refocus on the approaching vehicle. The Ford Raptor handles the turns like a new toy. Wealth gleams in the black paint and chrome accents to confirm my earlier assumptions. I square my shoulders and prepare for another confrontation with the rich pricks.
But then the man’s face comes into view. He’s wearing a hat and his eyes are hidden behind a pair of aviators but I imagine the baby blues crinkling in the corners. Relief streams from me in a long exhale.
I exit the arena to greet my unexpected guest, and I’m not alone in that feat. Our two Australian Shepherds wake from their snooze on the porch to hop on the welcome wagon. Their chorus of barks pierce the humid air as Drake parks his truck in front of the garage. He steps out and strides to where I’m leaning against the fence. Or at least he attempts to.
The dogs weave between his legs, nearly tripping him with every pass. He leans down to pet them, which only doubles their efforts. I whistle and the pair quickly backs off to give him space.
“Appreciate that. Wasn’t sure I’d ever reach you,” Drake laughs.
“Yet here you are.” I take a moment to admire how his faded jeans are sculpted to his ass.
He returns the favor, his shielded gaze roaming over me in a languid perusal. “You look… hot.”
“Thanks for noticing.” I pluck at my tank top that clings to me like an extra layer of skin.
“Nice boots.”
I glance at the worn leather caked in shavings and hay. The grime matches the stains on my denim cutoffs. A pat to my head bobbles the oversized bun keeping my hair tied up. Once again, my appearance leaves much to be desired.
“Dressed to impress,” I joke. “You caught me in the middle of lessons and mucking out stalls.”
“What’s that?”
“Shoveling shit into a wheelbarrow.”
“That sounds… thrilling.” Drake adjusts his baseball hat to sit lower. “I had to plunge the toilet yesterday.”
I twist my lips to one side. “That’s almost the same thing.”
“It’s really not,” he chuckles and scrubs the back of his neck. “Don’t know why I brought it up.”
A nervous energy surrounds him, which is endearing. I find myself smiling at the idea that this sports icon could be a bumbling goof around me. It must be the weather.
“So,” I prod.
“Buttons.”
“Good one,” I quip. “But what brings the great Drake Granger to Greener Pastures?”
“You.” His mirrored lenses reflect my shock.
I avert my gaze and kick at a stray pebble. “What about me?”
“Everything.”
Which is too farfetched to believe. “It’s the smell, huh? You’ve missed the scent of manure and farm animals. Feel free to stop by whenever you need a whiff.”
Drake steps closer and breathes deep. “Careful, beauty. With an open invitation like that, I might never leave.”
An ache rooted in loneliness makes it difficult to swallow. My gaze catches on his truck. “What’re you hauling with that horsepower?”
He quirks his mouth at my deflection. “A boat.”
“Why am I not surprised?”
“I’ll take you for a spin on the lake. Just say the word.”
A moan almost slips free at the thought of dipping under the cool surface for a reprieve. But that’s a slippery slope, especially when referring to Drake’s abs while wet. “Want to learn how to ride a horse? I can saddle up one of the green broke colts for you. Doesn’t matter which one. They all need to get their bucks out. Western okay?”
“Maybe someday. We don’t need to rush into anything.”
My grin spreads at the uncertainty in his voice. “Slow and steady it is then.”
Drake whips off his sunglasses to compel me with an unwavering stare. “Still can’t believe you were under my nose this entire time.”
“Just a few years,” I argue. “And not that close. I’m at least ten miles from Main Street. To be honest, I drive into Moose River more than Knox Creek.”
He stumbles backward, clutching his chest. “You’re cheating on me already?”
I roll my eyes, but a giggle squeaks out to betray me. “That’s where the feed store is. If Knox Creek gets a Spikes or Tractor Supply, be sure to tell me right away.”
“Yeah, I’ll keep you faithful.” His assessing gaze shifts to study the place I call home. “Speaking of dependable, the house looks the same.”
I follow his stare to the log cabin design that’s stood the test of time. The rustic style has always made me feel like I belong. And now that my mind is wandering, I absently wonder what Drake thinks of Greener Pastures.
One hundred acres sprawl in slopes and valleys around us. There’s a stream that cuts across the back forty where we swim with the horses. The grassy pastures are a sight to cherish. It’s been almost two decades since his last visit. To my knowledge at least. He was only here once or twice along with our other friends during summer break. I’m curious if he notices the differences, much like those between us.
“The barn is bigger,” he notes randomly as if answering my unspoken musings.
I swing my attention to the large building that stretches into an L-shape. “A storm wrecked the original. Mimi was able to build the stable of her dreams with the insurance money.”
“Do you love it?” His voice is soft.
“Of course. Horses are my passion. That’s why she left Greener Pastures to me. My parents and brother couldn’t care less. To have my own barn is a dream.” I gulp around the grief forming in my throat. “But I’d love it more if she was still here with us.”
“She’s always with you,” he says gently.
I nod but the motion is jerky. “Yeah, I know. It’s just… hard.”
There’s a sheen misting his blue eyes. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to make it easier for you. I’ll share the load, beauty. You don’t have to struggle alone.”
“Thanks, but I have help.” My sniffle ends on a snort. “And trust me, you don’t want my baggage.”
“I think that’s for me to decide.” This man. He doesn’t have a clue what he’s offering.
“Well, you know where to find me.”
A rumble rolls from his broad chest. “Are you going to give me a tour?”
As if volunteering, the dogs return to his side. Yips and whines reveal their excitement. Their tails whip against the ground as they scoot forward, eager to be useful.
“You shouldn’t disappoint them,” I say.
“Hello again,” he coos and crouches to their level. “What’re their names?”
“Chester and Cheeto.”
Laughter shakes his entire upper body. “How clever.”
“Just wait until you meet Billy and Gruff.”
Drake rises to his feet. “Who are they?”
“Our goats.”
His straight teeth sparkle, framed by a wide smile. “Are you responsible for naming them?”
“Nope. That credit goes to my daughter.”
He freezes and holds the unnaturally still position for several seconds. “You have a kid?”
“Two actually. They’re twins.” I flutter my lashes at his dubious expression. “Deal breaker?”
Shock melts into happiness. The joy illuminating his features is nearly blinding. “Quite the opposite. Why didn’t you tell me you have children?”
“You didn’t ask,” I reply slowly.
“Well, this is fantastic. I love kids.” His voice is starting to remind me of Blippi, which I recognize from being forced to watch entirely too many episodes.
I pop my lips. “You’re straddling a fine line into unlikely territory.”
“What? Why?”
“If you have to ask…”
He waves off my unsaid meaning. “It’s not farfetched unless you make it that way.”
“Are you sure about that?” I roll my lips between my teeth to stifle a laugh.
“I’ve always wanted kids. I’ll be the coolest stepdad ever.” His claim threatens to choke me.
“Drake, just no. Stop talking,” I wheeze.
He does, but only because his attention diverts to the little boy exiting the barn. My son skips toward us as if summoned. Drake stares at him in awe, like this is the moment he’s been preparing for his entire life. The gift he’s never received is suddenly within reach.
“Don’t be creepy,” I mumble.
“Shit, sorry. It’s just that I see myself as a family man. I’m ready to be a father, but it hasn’t happened.” He clears his throat and stands straight.
“Do you usually tell women this straight from the gate?”
A blush stains his cheeks and I almost swoon. “No, this is a new development.”
“Ah.” I bob my head, the mystery of his single status still evading me. “Maybe switch up the strategy from now on. Play it cool on the ‘desperate to be a daddy’ speech until things are more serious, huh?” As if I’m qualified to give dating advice.
“The past is irrelevant.” He swats behind him to chase off the memories. “I’m concentrated on the future standing in front of me.”
My entire body flushes. “Uh-huh, yeah. You’re ready to settle down and have a family, but—”
“Exactly. Glad we’re on the same page. I already knew you were the one for me, but this is just… better than my imagination running wild.” He wags his eyebrows.
I hold up a palm. “Oh, no. Nope. We barely know each other and you’re moving at a speed I can’t follow.”
He smirks. “I’m not afraid to fight for what I want.”
“No fighting necessary,” I argue. “You’re looking to be a baby daddy—”
“Only if those babies are yours too,” he cuts in.
My emotions run in separate directions, ready to split me apart. “Let’s just pump the brakes.”
The time for smacking him with a dose of clarity ends when my kiddo cuddles against me. “Hi, Mommy.”
“Hey, monkey moo. Where’s your sister?”
“She’s teaching the kittens tricks,” he explains.
“And how’s that going for her?”
“Not well. They won’t sit or roll over.” His expression turns solemn on his twin’s behalf.
“Bummer.” I snap my fingers.
A sideways glance finds Drake practically vibrating in place. Freaking goofball. I’ve never met a guy this excited to meet a child that didn’t belong behind bars. Maybe I should be more concerned, but my heart clenches at his eager expression. This man is too genuine to have a predatory bone in his body.
He’s been patiently waiting for his intro, but my tongue ties over what to call him. Hesitation must pinch on my face because he takes the opportunity to let his personality shine.
Drake squats. “Hey, dude. It’s nice to meet you.”
My son squints at the proffered high-five, making no move to accept the gesture. “Who are you?”
I glance at Drake, allowing him to fill in the gap. It’ll be entertaining to hear how he labels us when he’s ready to race down the aisle.
The guy doesn’t skip a beat. “I’m Drake. Your mom and I go way back. We’re old friends.”
The suspicious kiddo narrows his eyes further. “You don’t look very old.”
Drake chuckles. “What I meant is that we’ve known each other a long time.”
He doesn’t appear convinced. “My mom doesn’t have many friends.”
“Ouch,” I complain.
My son gasps. “Did you hurt yourself?”
“You hurt my feelings. I have plenty of friends,” I tell him.
Drake cups a hand around one side of his mouth to aim a stage-whisper at the little boy. “She’s sensitive about her social life.”
His freckled nose crinkles. “What’s sensateve mean?”
The charmer rubs his stubbled chin. “It’s like being soft or delicate. Touchy. We need to be really nice to your mom or she gets sad.”
A shrill giggle rips from my sweet boy. “Uh-huh. Mommy has lotsa emotionals.”
“And that’s not a bad thing. It’s good to express ourselves,” Drake boasts.
My son’s expression screws into a twist. “Um, okay.”
“What’s your name, big guy?”
The little kid puffs out his chest. “Charlie like my Grandpa Charles.”
“Awesome!” My old friend holds up his palm again.
Charlie lunges to complete the high-five. “You’re kinda cool, Rake.”
I snort a laugh. “Totally tracks.”
Drake ignores me, too focused on his new bestie. “How old are you, buddy?”
“This many!” He sticks out his hand.
“Wow, that’s a lot of fingers.”
“You’ve gotta count,” my son insists.
Drake pauses, mulling over the answer. “Five? Is that right?”
Charlie is nodding. “Yes! Good job.”
“Thanks. That was a tough one.” He wipes fake sweat off the brim of his hat.
“Kenzie is five too. We’re twins. That means we were born at the same time. But guess what? I’m older. Mommy told me.”
“Just by a few minutes,” I interject.
“Whatever that means.” He shrugs his skinny shoulders.
“All that matters is you’re the big brother. They’re the best.”
Charlie hops on the balls of his feet. “Are you a big brother too?”
“Sure am.” Pride shines in his response.
“Ohhhh, you got tattoos,” my son blurts.
Drake straightens his arms for inspection. “Quite a few.”
“Sooo many colors. Mommy, look!” Charlie tugs on my shirt. “He’s got a baseball right there. You looooove baseball.”
“Is that so?” Humor struts in Drake’s gaze.
“I’ve watched a game or two,” I deflect.
My kiddo scoffs. “She cheers super duper loud for the Mustangs. That’s her most favorite team. I think it’s ’cause she loves horses.”
“Interesting,” Drake murmurs.
I cringe at the sky, searching for a cloud or an escape from this conversation. “Beautiful day.”
As if suddenly recalling an urgent issue, Charlie goes still and widens his eyes. “I’ve gotta go pet my bunny.”
He spins on his heel and dashes off without further explanation. I smile at his retreating form. Meanwhile, a gritty chuckle tumbles from the man beside me.
Drake returns to his full height, pinning me with that addictive stare. “The Mustangs, huh?”
I shrug but can’t escape his notice. “They’re our home team.”
“Is that the only reason?”
“Hush,” I mutter.
“Well, well. You watched me play.” His giddy tone is more appropriate for winning the lottery.
“You just happened to be on the Mustangs.”
“Do you have my jersey?”
“No!” I wince at my sharp voice and how it sounds. “I mean, not a chance. I’m more of a Peterson fan.”
Drake hoots. “Damn, woman. That’s a straight shot to the junk.”
“You asked.”
“For the truth,” he purrs.
I’m saved from the interrogation by a buzz in my back pocket. A glance at the caller ID sours my mood faster than a bad case of hemorrhoids. I dodged them earlier thanks to mistaken identity. Twice is asking too much apparently. A huff spews from me while I chomp on a foul curse. My finger stabs at the ignore button in rapid succession.
“Hey, killer. Easy.” Drake circles my wrist to stop the attack on my screen. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” I spit.
“Let’s not start off this relationship with more lies.” His admonishing tone is too much.
Laughter bubbles from me, but the humor quickly fades into a sob. “It’s this awful construction company. They’re trying to buy a bunch of land around here for their stupid development plans. Freaking bullies.”
“Okay, just relax. Deep breath in.” He inhales and I mirror the action. “And now out.”
I release the hot air along with some of the upset. “Mother truckers are such a trigger.”
“They can’t force you, right?”
I nod. “It’s just nonstop pressure to sell. Their tactics are dirty.”
“They have no power over you. Fuck ‘em.”
“Yep, they’re not getting an inch from me. Ever.” I tuck my phone away, and then swipe at my cheek that feels wet.
“Better?”
“Getting there.” I take another slow breath in and out.
“Good girl.” Drake is still staring at me even after I’ve collected myself.
“I’m fine now,” I say to reassure him.
“You have a little something…” He points at his jaw.
I scrub at the area. “Gone?”
“It’s worse,” he laughs. “Allow me.”
His touch is gentle as he sweeps at what I assume is a smudge of dirt. After several brushes, his fingers linger on my skin. He tips my chin upward to check his work. Electricity seems to spark from the contact, but that must be my imagination. Until our eyes connect and hold. Heat consumes me, the kind that burns from deep inside and spreads.
“Oh,” I breathe.
Drake leans in. “Go on a date with me.”
“Okay.”
“So agreeable,” he murmurs. His exhale skates across my lips. “I’ll touch you more often if this is the reaction.”
“Holy shit.” I pull away from his hold. “You sucked me into your dicksand. That was… whew, mister. You’re dangerous.”
“Only to your panties. Never your heart.” He winks and both naughty dimples pop in his cheeks.
Another wave of warmth travels through me. “I find that hard to believe.”
Drake’s smirk tips higher. “How’s Saturday?”
“For what?”
“Our date.”
I’m already shaking my head. “No, no. We’re not going on a date.”
“Sure we are. You already agreed.”
“That doesn’t count. I was under the influence of Drake Granger. I’ve recovered and reinforced my priorities. There’s too much for me to do around here.”
“You can spare an hour or two.”
“I really can’t.” Especially if I’m this susceptible to him.
“All right,” he drawls. “If you’re that busy, I’ll just swing by and help you. Free labor.”
“That’s not necessary.”
Drakes crosses his inked arms over his chest. “I insist.”
I torture my bottom lip between my teeth. “Why me?”
“Why not you?”
“I’m nobody special,” I retort.
“Beauty,” he chides. “You’re the total package.”
Several choice words lodge in my throat. “You’re very persistent.”
“I’ve been called worse than that too.”
My laughter teeters on hysterical. “Okay, you win. The kids will be with their dad this weekend. I’ll meet you in town for a drink.”
Drake is quiet for a moment, too many thoughts swirling in his gaze. Eventually he settles for, “Does this mean I finally get your number?”
“I suppose.” My palm lifts to accept his phone.
Time is suspended while he watches me typing on the screen. “You’re gonna love the cock den.”
I swallow another giggle. “Is that code for sex? I barely agreed to a drink.”
His chuckle caresses mine, blending into a synchronized tune. “Roosters is the bar I own with two friends. Regulars started calling it the cock den and the nickname stuck.”
“How cute,” I coo.
“But we can put sex on the menu for the night. Just our table.”
“Don’t push your luck, trouble.”
Drake’s eyes gleam like sapphires in uncharted waters. “I’m going to have fun properly earning that title from you.”