Page 78 of Finding Jack
I threw her a Snickers. “I don’t know why you’re mad. You look like you had an excellent time in the barn.”
“I can’t believe you texted him. That was the single most humiliating thing that’s ever happened to me.”
“But then it was good?”
Finally, a grin broke through. “You were not lying about his skills.”
“I demand details.”
She wrinkled her nose at me.
“Not about the kissing! Tell me about how it got to that point.”
“I walked into the barn. He wouldn’t look at me, which is weird, because we have this energy that’s hard to explain where it’s like we’re uncomfortably aware of each other but we’re pretending like we aren’t, and even with all of that, it’s just easy to talk. But he wouldn’t make eye contact with me, and if he did, he blushed. Like actually turned pink.”
I grinned, imagining what must have been going through Paul’s mind after getting my text and then coming face-to-face with Ranée.
“We normally work with the same three kids, but he volunteered to work with the kid the program director normally helps so that she could go catch up on some paperwork or something. And then he basically avoided me the whole night.”
“Oh, Paul, you idiot.”
“Paul nothing. That wasyourfault.”
“Get to the good part. How did you get from that to this?” I waved at her beard rash and slightly puffy lips.
“We’re supposed to supervise the kids while they brush the horses at the end of the night, but Paul said he wanted to take his horse—well, the one he rides the most—around the trail once, so he told his kids they could leave. I told my kids they could go too because I also wanted to ride. I wanted them out of there so I could ask him if something was wrong. I was having a mini panic attack, thinking maybe one of us had butt-dialed him while we were talking earlier, and he’d heard the whole conversation.”
She was flustered. Ranée didn’t get flustered. It was an adorable look for her.
“Get to the good stuff,” I prompted her.
“I didn’t really want to ride, so I started taking off Gert’s saddle. She’s the horse.”
“I assumed.”
“And he steps into the stall and says, ‘I thought you wanted to ride.’”
I hooted. I couldn’t help it.
She threw a pillow at me. I batted it to the floor. “Not like that. Get your mind out of the gutter.”
“Sorry. Continue.”
“Anyway, I say no, that I just want to feed and water the horse in peace and quiet after a long week. Then I ask him why he isn’t riding.” She took a deep breath, and I leaned forward. This was about to get good. “Then he holds up his phone and says you texted him. And that’s when I knew I would kill you.”
“Did he even tell you what the text said?”
“No! It didn’t matter. There was not one thing you could have texted that I would have been okay with.” She picked at her jeans for a second. “Whatdidyou say?”
“Like you said, doesn’t matter. Here you are, all kissed and stuff. Fill in the blank after he said I texted him.”
“So he says you texted him, and I say, ‘oh, interesting,’ like an idiot because I can’t think of what else to say. Then he reaches over and takes the brush out of my hands and goes, ‘It really was,’ all kind of, um, sexy-like.”
My eyebrow went up. “Wow. Paul has developed moves. Good job, Paul.”
“That’s the thing. He hasn’t. He just said it quietly. Then he tosses the brush out of the way, and I’m standing there frozen, and he slides his hand around my neck and now I know what’s up, and then he gets even quieter but he gives me this look like, ‘Is this okay?’ and I think I gulped.” She got up and grabbed the pillow from the floor and hit me with it. “I gulped! Like a fish! I hate you.”
I snatched the pillow from her and hit her back. “You’re ruining the story. Tell me what happened next.”
