Page 45 of Beautiful Distraction

I nod, even though this is news to me.

He continues, “Do you really want to help?” I nod my head,and his gorgeous smile widens a little. “Okay. Then stay close to me and don’tdo anything rash.”

I frown because I’ve no idea what the hell he’s talkingabout. What could I possibly do rashly?

But there’s no time for asking because Kellan takes off. Ifollow behind, watching him as he opens the main door to the barn, the musclesstraining his shirt. The tendons in his forearms flex and stretch while a sexygroan swooshes past his lips.

At last, the door opens with a groan, and he motions meinside.

The interior is divided into huge stalls with top and bottomopening doors and halls to the left and right. To my left, there are cows. Onthe right, there are stalls with horses. At the far end, there’s the storagearea where he keeps the feed and the hay. Dust is flying as we walk.

“The barn’s overone hundred years old,” Kellan says. “The land has belonged to my family forgenerations.”

“Wow,” I say, impressed, and peer up, spinning in a slowcircle.

The morning light is spilling in through the high windows,and the pungent scent of hay, dust, and manure hits my nostrils. It doesn’tsmell bad, just earthy—different from the city.

I keep close to him as he opens the stalls and inspects onehorse after another, then guides them outside with a smack on their haunches.

I don’t know much about horses, but these ones are huge andwell groomed. Even I can tell that Kellan takes great care of them.

“Are you afraid of them?” Kellan asks.

“What? No.”

It’s not the entire truth. I’m not afraid of horses, per se.

But these look like something out of a gladiatorarena—the kind that could trample you to death.

“Good. Maybe I’ll teach you to ride them, if you’re up forit.”

“What makes you think I cannot ride?” I ask in a bold moment.

He cocks his head, his eyes running over my body. “I cantell.”

I don’t bother with a reply. There’s no point in telling himthat he’s wrong because he isn’t.

But damn, coming out of his mouth, I never know whether tofeel insulted or not.

For what feels like an eternity, he works in silence,swiftly moving from stall to stall, inspecting the wood panels and the largewindows, opening more doors, refilling food. An hour later, he’s done,seemingly pleased, and we head back outside.

“This is it?” I ask. It wasn’t so bad.

“No, we still have to take a look at the bulls. Their barn’sabout a mile away.”

A mile?

I’m not sure my legs can carry me that far, and yet I forcea smile to my lips. “Sure.” I point at the barn. “Shouldn’t we do a bit ofcleaning first?”

“I don’t usually have my guests cleaning out the stalls,unless they ask me to.” He winks, and my breath hitches in my throat.

In the sunlight he’s so gorgeous, it’s unreal. His greeneyes seem to catch and reflect the golden light. The wind ruffles his hair,blowing a strand into his eyes. I want to brush it aside, but refrain fromdoing so.

He beats me to it anyway and rakes a hand through his hair,the motion slow and sexy. I look away and wrap my arms around my waist, notbecause I’m cold but because I need to put something between us, even if thewall is imaginary.

“Can I stroke the horses?” I ask. My glance travels to them.They’re feasting on the grass, their muscular bodies strong and majestic.

“No, but you can ride one, if you want,” Kellan says. “Comeon, I’ll introduce you to them.”

---