Change Rein (Willow Bay Stables #1)(26)

Hank Green did that to Susie Pickler and me in the tenth grade, and Lord love a duck, I swore on that day I’d never spend time with a man who felt women should compete for his attention. That, and Hank Green ate so many tomatoes I swear it’s what turned his hair red.

“Where are we going?” I ask.

As he taps my ass, he winks at me. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

“I think I’m at my quota of surprises and letdowns for the day, cowboy. Spill.”

“Not a chance.” His playful side has been out to play today.

I’m quickly becoming fond of it. Either that, or I find it delightfully insufferable.

“I’m going to take a quick shower in the lounge and change out of these clothes,” he says. “I’ll meet you by the truck in thirty minutes.”

As per usual, he doesn’t give me any time to answer before his tight ass in blue jeans is disappearing into the lounge.

It doesn’t take me long to shower, and within the allotted thirty minutes, I’ve changed into blue jeans, a white tank top, and flip-flops. It’s casual, but it’s me. And if he wanted me to dress nicer, I assume he’d have mentioned it. I don’t bother blow drying my hair. The August heat will dry it quickly, and having been blessed with Momma’s straight hair, I very rarely need to style at all.

When I walk out of the barn, I see him leaning against the hood of his truck, talking on the phone, and pinching the bridge of his nose. As I get closer, I pick up on the distress in his voice, and the hairs on my arms stand up in response.

“That’s unacceptable. If someone doesn’t find him, there will be hell to pay. Am I making myself clear? This is a risk I’m not willing to take. Get it done.” He pounds the end button on his screen, the change in his body language startling me.

“Is everything okay?” I ask.

As his eyes find mine, they soften. “It will be.”

“Is this about the break-in?”

He seems to have misplaced the knowledge of how I came to know that, so I quickly find myself stammering.

“I overheard Charlotte asking you about it,” I clarify.

After pushing off the truck, he stops in front of me, cupping my face in his hands. “It’s nothing to worry about, angel. They didn’t take anything. That was the tech calling now. It seems the system was accessed by an employee we let go earlier this week.”

“As long as you’re okay.”

Kissing me lightly on the forehead, he smiles. “I’m good. Are you and your friend ready to go?”

“My friend?” I ask, terribly confused.

He nods in the direction of my hand. “Your ass pillow.”

Ah—and the funny guy is back.





I HELP HER INTO THE truck, winking as she settles onto the ass pillow. “Comfortable?” I smirk.

She glares in response.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” I laugh, buckling her in safely before rounding the truck and settling in behind the steering wheel.

It’s as if she doesn’t even have to try. Just being around her makes me feel as though I haven’t got even the slightest of cares in the world.

In all actuality, I do. I have a disgruntled former employee breaking into my building and an upcoming sit-down with the police—something I’m looking forward to. But that is tomorrow, and here, with her, there’s nothing but plentiful happiness.

“Where are we going?” she asks, always curious.

Adjusting the rearview mirror, I back the truck up before swinging out onto the long driveway. Truthfully, we could have walked from the barn to where we are going, but with her injuries and my haste to get there, it didn’t seem ideal.

Placing a finger to my mouth, I whisper, “It’s a secret.”

“You’ve really got the mysterious cowboy thing down, don’t you?” Her voice is teasing, but I can tell it irritates her that she doesn’t know what’s happening.

I reach across the middle console, lacing our fingers together and bringing them to my lips. “I think I wear my heart on my sleeve where you’re concerned, angel.”

A sweet blush stains her fair cheeks as I turn off into the west field. “We’re staying on the property?” She words it like a question, but it’s not. “I know where we are going!” she beams excitedly, looking out the window as if it’s not the same land she grew up admiring.

So cute.

I drive across the field until we disappear into a cluster of trees, which eventually clears and gives way to a small lake. The area is magical in itself, but what I have planned ought to make it even more so, especially when the sun goes down.

I back the truck up so the bed is facing the water’s edge and shift it into park. “Wait here,” I tell her, cutting the engine.

I know she’ll be able to see me doing it, but for some reason, I have this urge to impress her with the finished idea, so I move like an excited child to set it up.

The mattress is already in the bed of the truck, but it takes me a few minutes to gather the blankets and pillows from the backseat and position them into the makeshift couch I’ve created. Once that’s done, I walk to the small fishing shed and look for the outlet Aurora told me about. When I plug it in, the white twinkle lights that run along the roofline come to life. So does the little radio playing country music from the window.