Page 19 of Hot Ice, Tennessee

I could tell the horses were like family to him. I picked up the pace a little, trying to get us closer to Minton Ranch.

After a silent minute, Mason reached up to toy with the plush little ice skates I had hanging from my rearview mirror.

“I didn’t even know Tennesseehadhockey players,” he mumbled.

“The power of the indoor ice rink is real.”

He finally seemed calmer. I took a few even breaths, coming to grips with the fact that he was just as stubborn as I was.

“Do a lot of people come to the games?” he asked.

“Come check one out sometime. You’ll see,” I said. “Even the summer league crowds are pretty die-hard. Nothing better than being near ice on a hot summer day.”

This sure as fuck wasn’t how I expected my night to go, but I was still glad I had an excuse not to head home. My college buddies were probably still playing beer pong in the living room, most of them trying to find hot girls to hook up with for the night, and if Elliot was still up I wanted to avoid him.

We stayed on the road, passing by trees, green fields, and endless deep puddles. We didn’t come up to the next light for at least another two minutes, and once I took a right, it was another three before my headlights reflected on the big white sign.

Welcome to Minton Ranch, it read, in a cursive script.Riding lessons available. There was an illustration of a horse at the top.

“It would have taken you another twenty minutes to walk here in this weather,” I said as I turned onto the long paved driveway that led up to the ranch.

We passed plenty of horse arenas and pens along the way. Kane had mentioned that Mason had inherited land, but this wasimpressiveland. It practically could have been called an estate.

I finally saw the house at the end of the driveway, a big, beautiful two-story Craftsman house with tons of tall windows. I threw my car into park outside and turned to him.

He’d barely said anything of substance during the drive. Droplets occasionally fell from the ends of his hair.

“Thanks again, Jesse. You really didn’t have to do that, but… thanks.”

He reached for the passenger side door handle to get out.

“I’m coming in with you,” I told him.

He whipped back to look at me. “What? Why?”

“To make sure you get in safe and get some water,” I said, cutting the engine on my car.

Common decency. Ever heard of it?

“How do I know you’re not a killer or something? We just met.”

“You’re already too trusting,” I said. “You got in my car on the side of the road, after all.”

For a brief moment we paused, and then at the same time, both of us smiled, and I shook my head.

“Fuck,” he said. “Last thing I need is a 21-year-old college kid judging me.”

“I don’t judge,” I said. “I just don’t want to see on the news tomorrow that some cowboy got fried to a crisp from a lightning strike, because he was dumb enough to go for a midnight stroll out here. I’m walking you to your door. Promise I won’t suddenly turn into a murderer.”

“Fine. You just have to promise not to make fun of anything you see inside.”

“Now I’m intrigued.”

The rain pelted down on my jacket as we ran to the front door. I slowed once I was shaded beneath the awning of his big, wrap-around front porch. He raked his fingers through his wet hair and looked at me, finally looking at least slightly relaxed for the first time since he spilled the drink.

He was holding his keys in one fist. I couldn’t help but picture my fingers laced through his, pinning him up against this wall outside his front door.

His hands looked strong, but mine were, too.