Page 15 of Summer Redemption

I’m not willing to risk it. Not when she’s speaking to me even though I don’t deserve it.

“I think Buttercup has forgiven her but likes the extra treats and attention so she’s still acting all put out and angry because she knows if she does then those things won’t stop,” my voice is strained with how hard I’m fighting myself not to reach for the woman who looks like she walked right out of my dreams and into my barn.

She giggles and shoots Buttercup a look. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re right about that.”

Something settles inside of me with the look of amused joy on her face. It’s something I haven’t seen before. It feels special.

And all mine.

I want to put that look on her face over and over again. It’s a strange feeling, but it doesn’t make me want to run in terror even though it probably should.

Before I can figure out what else to say to keep the conversation going, Sunshine straightens her shoulders, and she tucks her emotions behind a wall. Her green eyes go from sparkling to neutral.

I hate it.

“I’m just here to check on the pregnant mares,” she says as if she’s reminding me and I wasn’t the one who called and made the appointment.

Did I make it so that I could get her back out to Limitless? I’ll never tell.

“Right.” I nod and then nod toward Sierra’s stall since she’s the closest to the entrance. “We can start with Sierra.”

The moment she walks up to her stall, Sierra is there and practically presses her face right against Sunshine’s chest. I swear she’s only doing it because she’s trying to make me jealous.

If anyone ever tells you that horses don’t understand people, they’re lying. Or they don’t talk to their horses enough.

Sierra gives me an epic side eye that Buttercup would be proud of. All I can do is shake my head and bite my tongue. These damn horses.

I love them, but damn. I don’t appreciate being a source for their sick amusement.

Thunder practically puffs up his chest because he’s the father of Sierra’s foal. I swear he’s been strutting around since she got pregnant like he’s the be all and end all of studs. It’s kind of amusing.

“I see you over there, Thunder,” Sunshine coos. “Is this your baby too?”

Thunder huffs out in agreement and Sunshine grins. It’s as if she’s forgotten I’m here. And I find that I’m okay with it.

I can’t tear my eyes away from her as she examines Sierra and then moves on. She’s professional and knowledgeable, but it’s more than that. It’s like I can see the way she loves her job. It radiates from her and everything inside of me wants to get closer to her so I can soak up the feeling.

It’s not easy, but I force myself to keep my distance. Sure, part of it is because she needs to be able to work without me hovering over her, but I’m afraid if I get too close then she’ll hide her true feelings while working with animals.

Shame fills me.

What if she had listened to my bullshit and the things I made fun of her for, especially how much studying she did and how committed she was to school? Would she not have been able to go off, go to school, and become a vet if she had?

That would be a shame and not just for the town of Wintervale, but for every animal here as well. She was made to help animals.

By the time she’s halfway through checking on the pregnant mares, I almost can’t look at her.

“What’s wrong with you?”

Her question isn’t sharp or accusatory, more curious, but it still feels like a punch to the gut. Instead of telling her what I was thinking because it sounds self-centered, even in my own head, I mumble, “You’re really good at this.”

“Well, I should be. I went to school for long enough.” When I glance at her, she’s tilted her head to the side, her face unreadable. “Are you going to make fun of me for it?” My eyebrows pull together in confusion, and she sighs, “You know,because I spent so much time focusing on school. You loved making fun of me for it.”

“No,” I barely get the word past my lips, “I’m not going to make fun of you for it.”

This feels like a moment I can’t let pass me by. Not only is she here, in front of me, but she’s opened the door to our past. I’ve already apologized, but it wasn’t enough. I’m not sure anything will ever be enough.

“Sunshine,” I force myself to meet her gaze, and I hate the wariness I see there, “I’m really sorry I was such an asshole. I could try and make excuses, but it would all be bullshit. I knew better, but I still treated you badly. I shouldn’t have done it, and I have regretted it every day.”

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