“You’d be happy for me to come over another time, wouldn’t you?” he asked.
“We agreed on Friday, when you get back from your business trip.” Her resistance thinned with each word, but she held on. Friday. That was the line.
“I’ll have my phone set up for Dictaphone so I can record your sexy groans when you eat,” he teased, a deep, dark laugh following.
She couldn’t let herself like him too much. Jamie wasn’t a guy who’d hang around long, and truth was, he didn’t even need to.
But when he touched her, when he spoke to her like that, all her plans started to fade.
“I like pizza, by the way.” She needed to keep it light to stop herself from caving in.
“I like your pussy, by the way.”
Her cheeks burned, the surge of heat radiating through her.
“Jeez, Jamie.” She slapped her hand over her eyes. “Such a romantic.”
“Is that what you like? Romance? Flowers and shit like that?” he asked, with a warmth in his voice that madeShannon pause, the hint of something real underneath the playful mockery.
“Nah, romance is overrated,” she replied as she moved the couch and tucked her knees to her chest.
He chuckled, a low, throaty sound that sent a shiver down her spine.
“Or maybe you haven’t experienced the right romance yet. I could show you something better,” he said. “What’s the point of all that mushy stuff when there’s real fun to be had? And I know you enjoyed yourself, didn’t you, love?”
Shannon’s lips quirked despite herself.
“Yeah, I guess the sex was good.” She bit her lip, resisting the grin settling there.
A low chuckle rumbled down the line. “I’d say the sex was fucking awesome, Shannon. That’s why you like me, isn’t it? Admit it.”
“I haven’t decided if I like you yet.” Her heart raced despite her words.
“Sure you do, love. I can sense it.” His confidence washed over her, leaving her heart in a strange flutter. “Good night, Shannon.”
“Good night, Jamie,” she whispered, the words a soft surrender.
Strong winds howled through the cracks in the barn, making the timbers creak in protest as if the building wanted to escape the storm.
The night air bit, and Shannon couldn’t shake the uneasiness in her chest when she bolted down the stone steps to the yard.
Rain or shine, she made the trip outside to check on Trixie, even though Bucky handled the final yard walk. But the sight of her and the late-night peace in the stable soothed her.
Trixie was there, standing in a sleepy daze, her long neck lowered in a half-doze.
“Hey, girl,” Shannon murmured.
She pushed the stable door open, the rusted metal bolt clanking in the barn's silence. Trixie’s ears shot back.
“It’s okay, girl. Only me,” Shannon whispered, shuffling closer.
The wind blew louder, drowning out everything else. As she reached Trixie, she nuzzled into her warm neck, closing her eyes and stroking a hand through her mane.
“I love you, girl. You’ve got enough water, right?”
The barn groaned again, and then a sudden loud bang followed, rattling through her bones. Shannon flinched, and Trixie skittered sideways.
“It’s okay, Trix.” She ran a hand along the horse’s neck. “Think we’re in for a big storm tonight.”
