Page 52 of Cabins Cows Critics
“So,” Wendy begins as we trot along. “I got a call from Greg last night.”
“How is Greg?” I ask, trying not to sound too disapproving. Do I think Wen deserves better than that douchebag? Sure, but it’s her life and she can do what she wants with it.
“He’s actually on his way here.”
“What?”
“He said he got into it with his parents at their place and left.”
“So you invited him here?”
“No, he was planning to come see me, and I said I was here, at the ranch with you, and he just somehow invited himself.”
I purse my lips, trying to hold in the bubbling rage at this dick for not only his complete disrespect of my best friend, but now of me. Who invites themselves along to someone else’s vacation?
“Where is he staying?” I ask, and she smiles.
“I spoke to Dean this morning, and they have a few cabins empty, so he said we could stay in one of them.”
It’s not that I particularly enjoy sharing a bed with Wen, even though I’ve been in Connor’s the last few nights, but it’s been nice spending the days with her, and with him here, she’ll be doing the rest of the activities with him, and I’ll be on my own. I guess that was how it was supposed to be.
“That will be nice then,” I say, forcing a smile. Her eyes light up when she sees I’m okay with him coming, and that makes it all worth it. I just want her to be happy, and who knows, maybe this douchebag will smarten up and stop screwing with her emotions and give her the happy life she deserves.
Wendy leans toward me and pulls her reins in the process, bringing her horse right up beside mine. “How lucky is that horse?” she asks, nodding toward Atlas, and I chuckle, shaking my head as I maneuver Chestnut away to a safe distance.
Lunch at the estate was good, but the dessert was outstanding. On our plates sat tiny gingerbread houses, the roof made of a spiced meringue, and the walls were a soft ginger-spiced sponge cake. Inside, I found layers of compote, cream, and a crunchy ginger biscuit crumble, and every bite was like tasting Christmas. As much as I’d love to write about it in the review, given this place also houses guests, I’ll give the ranch the credit, saying they delighted us with delicious themed creations to tantalize the senses. When we get back to the ranch, they’ve almost finished setting up for the cinema under the stars, with a whole section covered in stacked hay bales. Tall heaters are set around the area, filling it with a warmth that has drawn in more than a few animals. Three goats stand on one side, and the llama, Chewie, which is normally happiest swimming in the pool, is lying on a bale at the front with the young farmhand Skye trying to coax him away with a bunch of loose carrots, but the thing isn’t budging.
Then I spot Connor coming around the back of the truck, a straw bale propped on one shoulder, his muscled arms bulgingunder his flannel shirt. He spots me, and his expression morphs from concentration to pure joy. I’ve never had that effect on anyone before. He drops the straw bale down, and a pit forms in my stomach. I’ve found something special here, and I’m not sure I’m ready to give it up. I’m writing, and it’s actually good, and I’m not focused on what’s next on a list of things to do. Sure, we have an itinerary of activities, but I didn’t even second-guess completely ignoring it to write or to spend time with Connor. Connor, the fucking gorgeous cowboy who has lassoed my heart. But what if this is just a holiday fling for him? He doesn’t even know that I am here to review the experience. Would it even matter to him? It’s not like I’ll be putting anything about us in the article. I should tell him the truth. But what if he is mad? What if he acts differently with me after he knows? What if he tries to manipulate the experience to ensure a positive review? Fuck. No. Even thinking he’d do something like that leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. I think what I am afraid of most is that he won’t want to see me anymore. That thought sends a churn swirling through my gut. If I was still in high school, this is exactly when I’d be calling my mom for advice. But I’m not. She’s gone and I have to figure out how to manage my own life. I stroll over to the main barn, where the cows spend most of their day, given the snow-covered paddocks. I crack open the door a little and go inside, the cows mooing like they’re welcoming me, and I spot Miss Milky right away over to the side with her daughter.
“I don’t know what to do,” I tell her as I run my hand over her head. She leans into my touch, and I relax against the rail to keep petting her.
“If I tell him the truth, I could ruin what we have,” I say, and she moos softly as if in reply. “I know, but what if he’s mad? I’ve never felt like this before. I thought I was happy where I was, in my loud city with the smog and traffic and lights, but this, beinghere with him, has opened my eyes to what happiness really is, you know?”
I scratch behind her ear. “You see it, too, don’t you? You see how amazing he is. I mean, look who I’m asking, of course, you see it. He loves you and the other cows, and Lulu.”
There is a creak behind me, and I spin.
“I thought I was the only one who talked to the cows,” Connor says, taking off his sexy-as-fuck cowboy hat and walking my way.
“They’re surprisingly good listeners, pretty light on the advice, though,” I reply, and he loops one arm around my waist and lifts me to kiss him the way he does that sends my pulse into overdrive.
“I’ve been known to give pretty good advice,” he says, setting me down again.
“Okay,” I say, leaning back on the rail. “There’s this guy that I’ve sort of been seeing.”
“He’s hot, right?”
I chuckle. “He’s alright, but it’s more than that. At least I feel like it is. So, how do I find out if he feels the same way?” I ask, and he scrunches up his nose, his eyes squinting like he’s trying to think up an idea to help me. The seconds I wait, my heart is just beating faster and faster. Was this a bad idea? Maybe I should have led with the whole, hey, I’m here to review your ranch, then followed up with, but I think I’m totally falling for you, too?
He drops his hat over the post beside me as he grips the railing on either side, leaning in close and surrounding me in his delicious woody scent.
“You ask him to the movies. If he says yes, he feels the same way.”
I shake my head. “He could just think I’m asking as a friend, or a…fuck buddy,” I reply, my cheeks burning under his gaze.
“Nope, on Beaker Brothers, that’s how you know it’s something real. Try it and see,” he says, and suddenly my throat is all tight.
“Ummm, so the movie thing tonight, do you maybe want to…I don’t know…go with me?” I ask, turning my attention immediately to my feet, but his finger lifts my chin until I’m forced to meet his stare.
