“If we’re talking about my grandmothers’ view on things, then you’re right. That would be strictly forbidden. But strictly forbidden doesn’t hold much weight. I still do what I want, which drives my grandmothers crazy.”
We pull past the wooded area along one side of the driveway, revealing the huge ranch house.
“Wow. The place is gorgeous,” Kate says. “It’s nothing like I was expecting.”
“What were you expecting, Princess? A small shack in the wilderness where we all share the same bed?”
She chuckles. “Some of my friends refer to the guest house I live in on my parents’ property as a shack.Thishouse makes my home look like a shack.”
“Well, it’s good to know that you’re okay with slumming it,” I joke. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
I park the truck in front of the house. Before Kate has a chance to open the passenger door, I beat her to it and help her down.
“This is where you live?” she asks.
“That’s right. But I didn’t bring you here to see the house. I want to show you something else.”
“Really? What?”
“You’ll find out when we get there.”
“Where are we going?”
“You’re not good with surprises, are you?”
She shakes her head. “I’m the worst at them. It’s not that I don’t like them. I’m just too eager to find out what they are.”
“I take it when you were a kid, you were a pain the ass at Christmas when it came to presents.”
She grins. “You might be right about that.”
“Good to know. Anyway, the thing I want to show you isn’t far from here. It’s just down that path.” I point to the one I’m referring to.
She walks alongside me, limping a little more than the other day.
“Are you going to be okay?” I ask.
For a second she seems confused; then the slight frown on her face vanishes. “Oh, you mean my leg? I’m fine. It is what it is.”
Her gaze takes in our surroundings: The freshly mowed grass along the path leading from the house. The training ring where Sophie is currently working with a mare. The stable beyond that. The pasture where the mares and colts graze during the day. The hut where TJ creates the wooden rocking horses he donates to kids dealing with cancer.
“That’s really sweet,” Kate says after I tell her about the rocking horses. “My only female cousin died of leukemia when we were kids. She always wanted to ride a horse. Unfortunately, she never got the chance.”
We arrive at the old small barn where my 1954 Mustang is located. “This is why Charlotte willed me her Thunderbird. I restore vintage vehicles. This is what I love to do in my free time.”
Kate stares at the car, mouth open.
It’s a few seconds before she recovers and lightly traces her hand along the car’s hood.
An unexpected twinge of jealousy pumps through my veins, and I briefly wonder what it would feel like to have her touch my body the same way.
“This is gorgeous, Noah. Where did you learn to do this?”
“Seattle. After I left Copper Creek, I eventually ended up there. I helped a guy who was being mugged. He offered me a job and taught me everything I know about restoring old cars. He died over a year ago and willed his equipment to me. I was the son he never had.”
She smiles. “You’re a man of surprising talents.”
“So I’ve heard.” My voice comes out husky, and she blushes.
