Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 124005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 620(@200wpm)___ 496(@250wpm)___ 413(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 620(@200wpm)___ 496(@250wpm)___ 413(@300wpm)
“I try to come out once a month. I sponsor a couple of horses here, and I visit Todd. I couldn’t always make it work during the regular season, so now I try to come every other week. When Todd is feeling good, he comes for a ride with me.”
“I would have come with you if you’d told me.”
“It wasn’t about publicity,” I say, somewhat defensively.
“I know.” She bumps me with her shoulder. “You really need to stop trying to make me like you.”
“Never.”
We reach the barn, and Sariah introduces Wills to the horse she’ll be riding. Thor is a dark brown steed, majestic and easygoing. Beauty is mine, a black mare.
I pass my phone to Sariah and ask her to snap a few for me while we groom the horses.
“What are you doing?” she mutters.
“Showing you how to do it properly.” I get in nice and close, the curve of her ass pressing against me, my chest meeting her back as I guide the brush over Thor’s flank.
“This is an excuse to rub my ass,” she grumbles.
“Shh, The Sword of Destiny will hear you and rise to the occasion,” I whisper.
She barks out a laugh. “Sword of Destiny?”
“Don’t say his name, summoning him will embarrass us both,” I say in her ear.
She laughs, and I grin.
“You two are so cute together,” Sariah sighs.
Wills nudges me. “I’ve got it from here.”
I reclaim my phone, and we finish preparing the horses and set out on the trail. We take a bunch more photos and meet up with Todd for a short visit once we’re done. It’s obvious the cold is taking it out of him, and he’s frustrated because we have to keep our distance. All he’s allowed is a fist bump, no hug. I promise him I’ll be back in a couple of weeks, and if he’s feeling better he can beat me at Crazy Eights.
Willy links her arm with mine as we walk back to my car. “I can’t believe you’ve been coming here all these months,” she says.
“Todd made an impression on me. So did Beauty, to be honest. And Bright Junior.”
“Don’t downplay it, Dallas. It’s a big deal, and it clearly means a lot to him and his family.”
I shrug. It’s a small thing compared to what the rest of my family gets up to. My mom has spent her entire life volunteering and giving back to the community. My dad is an oncologist, and my sister and brothers are in the business of saving lives. I’m the one who stepped into a career where I make millions a year for chasing a puck down the ice. But I don’t say any of that, because I don’t like the way it makes me feel. “He’s a great kid and easy to be around. Besides, I’ve developed a fondness for horses—outside of the birthing process, anyway.”
Wills squeezes my bicep. “I love that you do this.”
Her approval jacks me up even more than her ire, and I remind my body that we’re in a public place and to settle down. “You’re always welcome to join me, but I don’t want to turn it into a promo op.”
She smiles up at me, and it’s so full of genuine warmth that my heart skips a beat. “This is a really special thing you’re doing, Dallas. Thank you for sharing it with me.”
She lets go of my arm, but her smile remains. And it feels like a huge win—like maybe she’s starting to see the me who’s been in front of her all these years, and not just the idiot kid who was too caught up in what everyone else thought to show her how I felt about her.
Our next stop is a fruit farm just a few minutes down the road.
We park in the back, and she trades her T-shirt for a tank top that dips low in the front and shows off her ample cleavage. I can’t look away as she gathers her thick, wavy hair and twists it, securing it with a clip. My gaze skims the graceful slope of her neck and the softness of her shoulders. What I wouldn’t give to kiss a path along that bare skin. She props her fist on her hip. “What?”
“You’re beautiful.” I pop the trunk and retrieve my duffel bag. I pull the shirt I’m wearing over my head and toss it in the trunk so I can replace it with a fresh one.
“Dallas.” Willy snaps her fingers.
I glance up. “’Sup?”
“Look pretty.” She snaps several photos.
“Won’t it look suspect if I’m changing my shirt?”
“There’s no context. I can save it for when your socials need a boost.” She smirks and tucks her phone back in her purse.
I run a hand over my abs and return the grin. “Wilhelmina Reddi-Grinst, were you objectifying me?”