Page 63 of The Lies We Told Ourselves

This woman. She was ready to face down an intruder over the supposed insult of eating the first slice of her pie, but put her on the back of Doc outside of the training ring, and she looked like she was going to throw up.

“Doc won’t do you wrong,” I told her, trotting to her side and reaching across to adjust her hands on the reins. “Hold them like this, and use one hand on the pommel to steady yourselfif you need to. I promise you we won’t go fast enough to shake something loose.”

Reece glared at me, and I stood in my stirrups, leaned across, and kissed her.

“Or if you prefer, you could sit that sweet little ass in my lap, and I’ll keep you safe.”

I could see her actually thinking about it, and I steered my horse away from her to resist the urge to pull her out of her saddle right then and there.

If I had Reece in the saddle with me, we wouldn’t make it further than the crest of the first hill. But at least that was far enough for me to spread out a blanket and have my filthy way with her without any nosey ranch hands interrupting our fun.

But that wasn’t the point of today.

Well, that mostly wasn’t the point.

I was taking us up into the forest on my favorite trail to show her the view over Willowbrook. Much to Xander’s amusement, I even had a small picnic for us in my saddlebags.

I swear if he tried to feel my temperature one more time, I was going to throw his ass down into the dust.

“I can do it!” Reece objected, even if she didn’t sound so sure of herself. “Just know that if I fall off and break my ass, you’re going to be my nursemaid and slave for at least a month.”

“Baby, don’t threaten me with a good time. I’d gladly press my lips to every curve of your beautiful ass.”

She blushed the prettiest pink and shook her head.

It didn’t take long for Reece to settle into the slow rhythm of Doc’s gait as we headed across the pastures toward the tree line.

“How long have you had the ranch now?” she asked suddenly.

“Eight years. It was bittersweet when it finally became mine. I love this place. Every inch of this ranch, every tree and blade of grass, it’s ingrained in me. I’m pretty sure my blood runs withmore ranch dust than anything else. I would have camped out in the pastures if my parents would have let me. But the ranch becoming mine meant I lost my grandfather, and, at the time, he felt like the only person who was ever really on my side.”

Reece listened quietly, but the silence didn’t have that edge to it that it normally did. It didn’t slice at my mind, making me want to flee a situation where someone expected me to fill it. To spill a part of myself that they’d get to claim for themselves.

She radiated nothing but peace and understanding.

And for the first time in my life, I actually wanted to talk.

“The Farrington land used to run down this whole side of the town. My grandfather let my father portion of a section at the far end, and he had a house built there for my mother. She wanted to be as far away from this place as she could get. There was nothing about a ranch that fitted the image she wanted for the Farrington name. Maybe that’s why I always loved this place so much. It was exactly what she didn’t want, and that made it even more special.”

Reece hummed in agreement. “This was your escape. A place where you could be yourself.”

“If it hadn’t been for my brothers, I think my grandfather would have let me stay, and I probably would have accepted. I couldn’t leave them in that house alone, though.”

“Is that why you stayed so long?”

“Yeah. I was the eldest. I still don’t think I did enough, but I wasn’t about to go off to college and leave them with that woman. So I went to the local community college and got an agricultural and business degree. That outraged her enough to take the heat off them for a good while.” I laughed at that point because the ridiculousness of it all wasn’t lost on me.

Regina hated that we were a small-town family and that she couldn’t tear my father from this town or me from the ranch.And that was where all the money had come from. If there was one thing she didn’t hate, it was the money.

“They were lucky to have you,” Reece said.

She looked at me like I’d done something impressive, and it made me shift uncomfortably in my saddle.

“It was nothing. I’m supposed to look after them. I’m the eldest. And I didn’t exactly do a very good job of it. Anyway, I didn’t need some big fancy degree to run the ranch.”

Reece’s eyes darted back and forth, and I knew she was searching my gaze to try to figure out how serious I was being.

But that was the thing. I was deadly serious.

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