“Right,” Lydia says with a nod. “Yes. This is totally fine.” She smiles widely at the other girls as if to convince them. Always the optimist in our friend group.
Rae grunts. “No, it’s really not.”
Molly shoots her a look that tells her to shut up, and I laugh, shaking my head because this is ridiculous. They’re being protective of me, but I’mfine.
“Okay then, off you three go.”
Their brows jump in unison as they stare at me. “Really? You’re kicking us out?”
I smile, stepping toward them and pulling them into a hug. They squeeze me back just as tightly, all three of them warm and solid and the best friends a girl could ever ask for.
“I love you guys,” I murmur. “Thank you for everything that you’ve done. Even the stuff I don’t remember. But I’m okay. I’m still me. I haven’t lost everything… just the last couple of months or so. This is totally fine. I’m going to talk with Declan, get everything sorted out in my mind, and be back at it like normal. At least the wedding was a success, right? We’ve got brides and grooms lined up to get married here I heard.”
Rae looks like she’s bracing for me to crack, Molly’s putting on a brave face, and Lydia? She just looks thrilled to be here, as if this whole situation is some grand adventure instead of the mess it actually is.
“Yep. You do. We’ll help you get up to speed on what you’ve started with the new business too, in the meantime, let’s go, friends!” Lydia chirps, grabbing Molly and Rae by the arms and hauling them toward the door before they can protest. “Call us if you need us!” she shouts over her shoulder.
I wait until I hear their car pulling out of the driveway before exhaling slowly.
Now what?
I have two hours until my dinner with Declan, and I’m already showered, shaved, and lotioned within an inch of my life. Just need to pick out an outfit and change.Where’s Hayes at anyways?
With nothing better to do, I decide to explore, letting my feet guide me down toward the barn and stables. The last time I was here, it was completely empty. Mr. Mayberry had owned horses for years, but he had to give them up when he couldn’t care for them anymore. This is where I learned to ride. Where I fell in love with the way the powerful animals move, the way they can make the world feel still with their intuition and tenderness.
The scent of hay hits me first, thick and familiar, and then I hear it—the soft huffs of breath, the whinnies, and the gentle shifting of hooves against the dirt floor.
How is that… how is that possible?
I push through the large barn doors, stepping inside and deeper into the galley, my heart pounding in my chest. And then I finally see the source of the sounds, three horses, one grey, onebrown, and one black. They stand in their stalls looking awfully content, freshly groomed, their coats shining like they belong here. They’re gorgeous but what’s even more beautiful is the man working in front of them.
Hayes.
And holyshit.
Golden, sun-warmed skin stretched over muscles that look like they were carved by God himself. His back is broad, strong, shifting with every slow, measured movement as he brushes the grey mare. His traps and lats flex as he moves, lean and powerful, every inch of him the kind of man who knows how to handle hard work.
He’s shirtless, wearing nothing but a pair of light-washed Wrangler jeans slung low on his hips, a gold chain around his neck, and a pair of well-worn boots. His hair is longer than I remember from the last time I saw him—still that warm, shaggy brown that looks like he just ran his fingers through it and called it a day. And damn, he might just be the most attractive guy I’ve ever seen.
“Good girl,” he murmurs to the mare, his voice low, soothing and I swear it’s as if he’s speaking to me too.
Each brush of his arm, each shift of his stance, sends something tight and unexpected curling low in my stomach. My nipples tighten, my pulse jumps, and I forget how to breathe while I stand there and watch him in awe.
I should say something to let him know I’m here. Anything. But instead, I just watch, shamelessly, as he moves with the kind of ease that says he belongs here, like he’s always belonged here. And maybe he has. He was a bull rider when I met him, one of the best, but he was retiring then. I search my memories,trying to remember what came next for him—medical school, a residency, something about becoming a doctor.
Was he my doctor after the accident?
I swallow hard. The way he’s acting now, distant but calm, makes me think our marriage really was just one of convenience. And that should be a relief, shouldn’t it? The guy ran through women on the circuit like it was his job. I should be grateful this is just a business arrangement.
Ishouldbe, but the way he looks at me when he finally turns around and catches me staring says maybe it wasn’t that simple for us. He doesn’t seem surprised to find me watching him. Just flicks a glance over his shoulder, catches my eyes, and sends me a slow, knowing wink. Like he knew I was there the whole time. As if he was praising me for finding him, too.
I flush instantly, standing a little taller, clearing my throat because suddenly it feels thick.
“Hi,” I manage to get out.
“Hey, Reagan,” he says, still not fully looking at me, shifting instead to check the mare’s hooves, inspecting them carefully for any issues.
I roll my lips under my teeth, crossing my arms as I lean against the stall door to continue watching him. I think I could do this all day. He looks at home with the animals and I wonder if this is what he’s been doing while I’ve been in the hospital. Did he ever come to visit me?