Ava looked like she’d rather not. “Hmph.”
I hid a smile at her effervescent enthusiasm. “We’ll start with the currycomb.” Using circular motions, I showed Ava how to stand, as well as how to gently break up any dirt or mud. “My cupcake-holding hand is getting tired. Want to take over?”
Ava moved at a snail’s pace to approach the horse, her eyes wide as she examined Dash’s full height. “He’s so…tall.”
I saw the horse tense and nostrils slightly flare. “It’s okay, Dash. This is Ava, and she’s very nice. She likes Barbies, Brussels sprouts, and many hours of homework.”
Miller’s niece reluctantly laughed. “That’s not true.”
I slid the strap of the currycomb over her hand and gestured to Dash’s muscular side. “Are you sure? I’m almost certain that’s what your uncle told me.”
Ava’s pouty mouth tilted in a smile as she adjusted the round brush to her hand. “I’m definitely sure.”
“Hmm. I guess you’ll have to tell Dash all about yourself then.”
When Ava did speak, it was not exactly what I had in mind. “Do you like my uncle?”
My heart stuttered, and I rewound the words to make sure I heard right. “Are you talking to me?”
“I’m not talking to the horse.”
“But you’re supposed to be.” I heard my uppity tone and softened my words. “Dash is really interested in middle school. He’s thinking about enrolling himself.”
“It’s overrated,” she told him. “My language arts class is okay, but science is a bore. And don’t even get me started on PE.” She made a few more swoops against the horse’s coat. “Back to you and my uncle.”
I was starting to regret my decision to enlist Ava’s help. “We’re old family friends. I’ve known Miller since he was younger than you.”
“He spends too much time on his inventions in the basement. He needs a girlfriend.”
“I’ll be on the lookout for one.”
“I think he’s talking to that old one again.”
My hand stilled on the horse. “The old one?”
“Alexis.”
For want of distraction, I rubbed my fingers down Dash’s nose. “What gives you that idea?”
“I’m a really good listener.” She blinked enviably long lashes. “Especially when I’m supposed to be asleep.”
“Maybe they’re just friends.”
She shrugged, the kind of lifting of the shoulders powered by a low-energy disbelief. “Oh, okay. Yeah, sure.”
I moved the conversation topic back to Dash, explaining the full grooming routine.
As my lips spoke boring facts, my mind was a whirlwind of feelings.
What did I care that Miller was talking to his ex-girlfriend? That was no business of mine. And why would Ava assume it was of any concern to me? Never mind that I had been in the barn and arena for the better part of two hours hoping to catch sight of Miller. I reeked of horse dander and desperation.
Besides, Miller could date whomever he wanted. Had I Googled this Alexis Fineberg and in the process, found myself spiraling down a familiar hole of tattered and triggered self-confidence? Yes. HadNewsweekpicked her as one of its Forty Entrepreneurs Under Forty? She’d been Miss Twenty-Five. Did her cascading black hair and tiny waist look amazing in those photos at a Los Angeles movie premiere in which she wore Gucci and stood next to Reese Witherspoon with Miller in the background?
Ridiculously amazing. Miller had dated a woman who did makeup for stars.
I was currently brushing a horse’s hindquarters.
Any fledgling feelings I had for Miller needed to be stuffed, snuffed, and packed away. He would never date a woman like me, and he wasn’t exactly my preferred type either.
