20. Sage #3
His blue eyes burn into me, scrambling my brain. Or maybe the adrenaline is still pumping through my blood. Either way, my response is irrational. “How about you don’t order me around?”
A muscle in his jaw twitches and his lips flatten, but he dips his head.
When he raises it again, the corners of his mouth have lifted and his gaze has softened.
He brushes his thumb over my lower lip, then leans in, his breath warming my ear.
“Pretty please, Sage. Get out of your wet clothes for me.”
A shiver of a different kind courses through me, my nipples pulling tight as heat curls low in my core.
I swallow hard, then wet my lips. “Okay.”
He releases me, focus fixed on my face until I step into the nearest stall.
Only when I pull the half-door closed behind me does he turn back to the horses.
I fumble with the buttons of my damp shirt, my fingers frozen, my hands trembling.
The fabric clings stubbornly to my skin, but eventually, I peel the garment off.
All my clothes are wet, bra included. I bite my lip, considering, then take a deep breath, unclip it, shrug it off, and pull the jacket on.
The soft flannel lining warms me instantly.
The sleeves hang past my hands, and the scent of rain, leather, and Holden settles around me. I close my eyes and breathe it in.
Since the jacket falls halfway down my thighs, I wiggle out of my wet jeans as well, leaving only my panties underneath. After wringing out my clothes, I hang them over the stall partition. Then, already feeling almost cozy, I step back out.
Holden has already got blankets draped over the horses’ backs, and they’re standing in the far stalls, calmer now that we’ve found shelter.
As my boots scuff against the packed-dirt floor, Holden glances up and stills, his eyes drifting down over me.
Heat creeps up my neck. It’s ridiculous, me dressed in nothing but his jacket and a pair of cowboy boots, but by the way Holden’s eyes flare, I don’t think he agrees.
“Better?” His voice comes out husky.
A thrill ripples through me in response to his tone. “Yes, thank you.”
He tips his chin toward the straw bales. “Sit down before you fall over.”
It’s only now that I notice the ache in my legs from riding faster and farther than I ever have before. With a quiet exhale, I sink onto the bale still covered with the blanket.
Holden disappears down the other end of the barn, and when he comes back, he’s carrying an old lantern.
“Will it work?” I ask.
“Should do. We use these barns during calving season, so we keep some basic equipment out here.”
Thunder cracks overhead again, and I jump, then laugh self-consciously. “I wish I’d known to pack for a slumber party.”
“You mean you didn’t bring the feather pillows?”
This time my laugh is genuine. “I think that’s the first time you’ve cracked a real joke since we met.”
“Not much of one.”
“I’ll take it,” I tell him. “Who knows, maybe if you practice, you’ll get better at it.”
That earns me a faint huff of amusement. I find myself smiling. How is it that getting a laugh out of him is almost as satisfying as taking the perfect shot?
“We should get settled before it gets darker,” he says, surveying the space.
I glance at one of the windows, where rain still hammers the glass. The light is definitely dimmer than before. “So, how does this work?” I ask. “I’ve never spent the night in a barn before.”
With far more ease than I expect, Holden drags a bale of straw out to the middle of the space. “We can use it for bedding. Cover it with horse blankets.”
As he starts pulling it apart, I push myself upright and join him. The straw is scratchy and awkward to carry, with loose pieces drifting down and tickling my bare legs. After we’ve built a thick pile near the wall, he spreads blankets over it.
“Looks comfy,” I say.
“Not as comfortable as you might think.” He meets my gaze and smiles wryly. “My brothers and I used to sneak out at night and sleep in the barn, just for fun. We’d usually regret it by morning, but it never stopped us doing it again the next week.”
I laugh softly. “That sounds like fun. Did Taryn join you?”
“She wanted to, but she was too young. Even when she got mad about it, she never told on us. Though I have a sneaking suspicion Mom and Dad knew about it and just didn’t care as long as we cleaned up after ourselves.”
Warmth spreads through my chest. “That’s a nice memory.”
“Yeah,” he says slowly. “It is.”
He steps away from the bed we made and hangs the lantern from a hook on the wall.
He fiddles with it for a moment, then the light comes on, casting long shadows across the floor.
“Unless you’re carrying snacks on you, we don’t have anything to eat.
Might be best to get an early night so we can head back first thing in the morning. ”
“No snacks,” I say a little faintly, examining the suddenly very small-looking pile of straw.
I didn’t let myself think too hard about it while we worked. But now there’s no avoiding it. Holden and I are going to be sleeping next to each other tonight. And the idea is far more appealing than it has any right to be.