His Reverie (Reverie #1)(5)

Glad at least someone approves.

There’s nothing to drink and I forgot to bring my bottle of water out here with me so I shed my work gloves and exit the stables, thankful when I catch sight of a faucet and hose right outside the doorway. I crank on the water and grab the hose, let it run for a while so all the hot water gets out before I bend over and start slurping the running water. It’s cold and feels good going down my throat and I close my eyes, feeling like I’m six and drinking from the hose like I did when I was little and didn’t want to bother going inside.

I can still hear Mom yelling at me not to put my lips on the hose. Just remembering her puts a catch in my throat, making it hard to swallow…

“Thirsty?”

I jump at the sound of a soft female voice, my hand jerking so the hose splashes me right in the face. Muttering a curse, I drop the hose and reach out blindly, wrenching the faucet off with one hand as I swipe at my eyes with the back of the other. I hear the girl laugh and I whirl around, fully prepared to find some bratty preteen Hale daughter mocking me.

But she’s not a preteen. Not even close. More like around my age. She’s tall and slender, her long blonde hair falling far past bared tan shoulders. She’s wearing some sort of sundress or whatever you call it and she’s pretty much covered since it hits just above her knees, though her arms are exposed since the dress is sleeveless. The sun catches her just right though, shining through the thin fabric of her skirt so I can see through it.

My gaze drops and all I can see is long, long legs through the shadowy fabric. Damn. Those sexy legs are endless. She clears her throat, like she knows exactly where I’m looking and what I’m thinking and I jerk my gaze up guiltily to meet hers, feeling like a jackass.

That’s when I notice her eyes are blue. As blue as the sky above us, and she’s so damn pretty, with delicate features and pink, pink lips, that I can’t seem to form words.

“Who are you?” she asks curiously. Her voice washes over me, sweet and melodic and now it’s my turn to clear my throat to get the lump out so I can freaking speak.

“Who are you?” I ask back like an idiot.

She smiles shyly and my entire body reacts, a bolt of electricity seeming to go through me. “I asked first.”

“Are you Hale’s daughter?” If she is, that sucks because holy hell she’s hot but yeah.

She’s completely untouchable if she’s a Hale.

“What if I am?” She kicks at the ground with her sandaled foot, her cheeks coloring the faintest pink. Innocence radiates from her. She looks like a damn angel and seems a little uncomfortable with me.

Despite her seeming discomfort, I think she might be trying to flirt with me.

“Well, I’d make sure and be extra polite to you since I work for your dad.” I go with the truth because I don’t want any problems from this girl. I probably shouldn’t even be alone with her. She could say anything, accuse me of something terrible and I’d have no defense. Her word against mine.

And her word would win every single time.

Another laugh escapes her and she slowly shakes her head. “I like your honesty.”

I like everything about her so far but I keep my lips clamped shut. I’ve already said enough to make myself look like a total loser. “So I’m guessing you’re definitely Hale’s daughter?”

She nods. “I’m Rev.”

Rev? What kind of name is that? “Like reverend?” That’s the only logical conclusion. Though she looks my age so there’s no way she could be a reverend or whatever right? I wasn’t raised religious. I’ve never been to church. I believe in God but I’ve never read the bible.

Admitting anything like that would probably shock this preacher’s daughter. Reverend’s daughter, whatever.

She stops laughing and rolls her eyes. “Sorry. I can see why you’d think that because of my dad and stuff.” She pauses and takes a step closer, her gaze dropping to my chest for a too-long-moment, her eyes going wide before they meet mine once more. I totally forgot I’m not wearing a shirt and I scratch between my pecs, self-conscious. This looks really bad. Like majorly bad.

I’ll probably lose my job first day in if she runs and tells daddy the bad boy half-naked ex-con talked to her.

“My name is Reverie,” she explains, confusing me further. What the hell kind of name is that?

“Reverie,” I repeat. “Uh, that sounds unique.”

“You’re just being polite. It’s weird, right? Not really a name for a person, you know?” She shrugs those slim, pretty shoulders again. Her skin is smooth and golden from the sun and I bet it’s soft to the touch too. Like I’ll ever get a chance to touch her.

Not.

“What does it mean?” When she frowns I continue. “Reverie.”

“Oh! Daydreaming. Lost in thought.” She smiles, a little more timidly now and that show of uncertainty fuels me.

Makes me feel a little braver. If she didn’t want to talk to me she would’ve jammed by now, right? That’s what I’m going with. “So why didn’t they name you daydream?”

“Well, that would’ve been even weirder. Don’t you think?” She tilts her head, studying me. “You never did tell me your name.”

“Nick,” I offer, flicking my chin at her like she’s my homeboy or something stupid. God, what the hell is wrong with me?