Page 60 of Crystal Iris
“Yeah, in the west house.”
“West house?”
“Yeah, Hoyt wouldn’t take no for an answer. After his dad died, he made sure we moved in there—my brother and me.”
“So you live here, on his land?”
“Yep, he’s a good boss, but… he always treated Sawyer and me like brothers.”
“And does Sawyer take care of the horses too?”
“Yes, you’ll meet him tonight.”
“Tonight?”
“Hoyt invited us for dinner. We never say no when he’s cooking.”
The land is vast and devastatingly beautiful. Miles and miles of grass stretch underneath us, as far as the eye can see. The tall trees sway gently with the breeze while the mountains watch us from afar. We ride to the river and back.
I have a hard time getting off the horse, and I could have done without Hoyt watching me dismount ungracefully. I thank Broc for his help.
“Anytime. See you both at dinner.” He tips his hat to Akira before heading back to the barn.
“I need a shower,” I tell Akira as we take off our boots in the mudroom before entering the house, copying Hoyt’s habit.
“You ladies are free to roam around until seven.”
“What’s at seven?” Akira asks.
“Dinner,” he replies.
My room has a private suite, and I almost want to cry when the extra powerful water jets start doing their thing. The bathroom is simple yet luxurious, like the rest of the house. Large, irregular brown stones cover the walls while tile lines the floor. There are plenty of fluffy towels, nicer than the ones in any hotel I’ve stayed at. I take my time drying every part of my body, letting myself enjoy their softness. I still have another hour before dinner. I offered to help with the food, but Hoyt dismissed me, telling me to relax. I’m not the best at doing nothing—my mind has a way of ruining those moments. Still, I’m trying to take my time, enjoying my shower and the view.
What am I supposed to wear?I look at my wide-open suitcase. It’s probably a casual thing, even though Hoyt has invited his friends. I would hate to be overdressed and feel like I don’t belong with them. I would also hate to look… unattractive. I text Akira:What are you wearing to dinner?She doesn’t reply and comes straight to my room instead.
“Let me see what you brought,” she says, starting to pull things out.
“How many pairs of jeans did you bring?” She’s counting them.
“I told you, I have nothing to wear.”
“Wait here,” she says, walking out the door.
“Please bring something… simple!” I yell after at her. I’m taller than Akira, yet we wear similar sizes.
“Two options,” she says when she returns, carrying a couple of tops. “This shirt”—she lifts a purple long-sleeve shirt with a lionillustration on the front—“or this one.” She holds up a tight-fitting black sweater. It’s not really a choice.
“It smells amazing,” I say, coming downstairs and finding the table already set for six. Even with the nice china, it looks casual, to my relief.
“What kind of drink can I get you?” Hoyt asks as he places the bread on the table. He’s wearing a navy-blue shirt that hugs every muscle.
“I’ll take a glass of wine,” says Akira.
“Wine sounds good. Can I help you? I feel bad, you’re doing all the work.”
“I’m the host. Go pick a bottle,” he says, pointing to a door.
I open it to find a storage room. Chef-quality ingredients fill the shelves, including truffle oils, jars of sun-dried tomatoes, capers, and other similar items. I can tell already that Hoyt takes his hobby seriously. On the other side, I find racks of wine bottles. I pick one with a nice label. On the way out, I pass a collection of local whiskey. I tell myself to take it easy with the drinking. I need to keep myself… controlled.
