Page 107 of The Guy Who Stole My Ranch

“His name is Bert?” Brooke asked, once again meeting my eyes.

“Named after the chimney sweep in Mary Poppins.” I forced my body to cooperate as I swung one leg around Bert and jumped to the ground.

I’d successfully dismounted a horse thousands of times, so why did I suddenly feel self-conscious about it? I longed for my jeans and ripped shirt from the ranch instead of the riding clothes I’d put on when I’d gotten here. I felt like a fop under Brooke’s gaze.

Not that she was scrutinizing. Instead, she was looking anywhere but at me.

I ran my hand down my face and shook my head. “I’m sorry.” This was the same woman I’d almost cried about leaving the day before. Why was I feeling like I wasn’t good enough for her?

Probably because you just had a fight with your dad.

I pushed that thought aside and moved until there was a foot between Brooke and me. “You’re here early.”

“Surprise.” Her lips stretched into a smile, but it was hesitant.

I hated that she didn’t feel immediately loved. I hated that I’d let that happen, so I moved a little closer, gently took her chin in my fingers, and tilted her head up. “This is the best surprise I’ve ever received.”

“Really?” Her eyes glistened like she might cry.

That broke through the rest of my business brain, and I wrapped my free hand around her waist and pulled her close. She took in a quick breath, and I felt her both tense beneath my touch and melt into me. Where a moment before I’d felt like a fish out of water, now I felt at home. I leaned down until our lips were mere inches apart and said, “Really.”

I then took the opportunity to apologize for my lack of a proper reception, and she reminded me of just how much I’d missed her and just how far I’d fallen for her. She commanded my attention but allowed me to lead her. Her hands seemed desperate to take in every inch of my chest, sides, and back, and for a moment, I forgot we were standing next to my horse barn and not hers.

Just a few seconds into our reunion, a wet nose pressed against the side of my head.

“Bert,” I muttered, my lips still on Brooke’s.

She giggled.

I’d never kissed a giggling woman before. It was an experience I hoped to repeat.

Frank, never one to be left out by the horses, wiggled his way between our feet and then started to whine for attention.

Now Brooke laughed and pulled away from me. “Your friends are very demanding.”

“I’m very demanding,” I said as I tugged her back in for a brief kiss. Then I released her, but I reserved her hand in mine. Her fingers tightened, and I couldn’t do anything but smile at her.

“Wow, I think that’s a category-six,” she said.

“What?”

“Never mind.” She waved the comment away and then reached out to stroke Bert’s muzzle. “So this is one of your racing horses?”

I nodded and pointed at his leg. “He’s recovering from a pulled ligament.”

“Poor thing.” Brooke let go of my hand and moved down Bert’s side to his leg. She kept stroking him and patting him, and I could have sworn he gave Frank a look of triumph.

Frank gave me a pathetic pout, so I squatted down and scratched him a couple of times.

It was then that Gary, the man who ran our barn, came around the corner. He wore a pair of jeans and a button-down shirt that had probably started out white but now was several shades of grey. A mass of black hair topped his head and was only slightly darker than his skin. I had several inches of height on him, but his shoulders vastly outmatched mine. “I thought I heard you over here.” The man’s brown eyes twinkled as they darted from me to Brooke and back.

I didn’t have to bet to know that at least one of the grooms had been spying on us.

Brooke turned to look at Gary and put out her hand. “I’m Brooke. I have a feeling you’re the fella in charge.”

Gary shook her hand?I could only imagine the knuckle grinding that was going on between them?and nodded. “Yes, ma’am, I’m Gary.”

“Please don’t call me ma’am, sir,” Brooke said.

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