“Right,” Adrian agreed, moving back into position.
Something about the shot wasn’t right. It took me a minute to figure it out.
Fuck.
“Nate!” I called. “You ready to shoot?”
Adrian’s eyes widened as he realized neither one of us hadconsidered including Nate in the shot. It was supposed to be a date between the two of them after all.
The rancher came sauntering over. “Sure you need me? Seems like the two of you might create better content without a dusty ole rancher?—”
“Shut the fuck up,” I snapped. “Get in the shot, and let’s get this knocked out.”
We completed the shoot with a new tension between Adrian and me, both hyperaware of each other’s movements. Nate seemed to enjoy every minute of it, occasionally offering suggestions for shots or angles, his knowing expression making it clear he saw right through our professional facade.
Since the two of them were supposed to be acting like they were on a date, I took several clips of them standing close together, gazing at the view, and even one with Adrian’s arm threaded through Nate’s. Every time Nate stood close to Adrian, I wanted to throw the sexy rancher clear off the nearest cliff.
“That’s enough,” I barked when Nate tugged Adrian closer with the tails of the Nordique scarf, pretending the same playful, flirty tone I’d suggested when framing the shot.
Adrian’s cheeks darkened while Nate’s head fell back in laughter.
“Alright, alright. The fun police are here, and they are not amused,” Nate teased, shooting Adrian a wink. “I forgot to warn you never to poke a bear out here.”
When we finally climbed back into the sleigh for the return journey, Adrian sat stiffly beside me, careful not to let our legs touch. I focused intently on reviewing the footage we’d captured, avoiding both his gaze and Nate’s amused glances.
Nate, bless and damn him, filled the silence with more local history and stories about his horses, occasionally letting a huff of amusement slip out.
As we approached a particularly scenic stretch of the trail, Nate turned slightly. “Adrian, there’s a barn dance at my place next weekend. Nothing fancy, just locals letting loose with some music and food. You should come.”
I leaned forward and narrowed my eyes at Nate.
Before I could askSince when are you hosting a fucking barn dance?Adrian replied. “Thanks. That sounds fun.”
“Great,” Nate said easily. “Looking forward to it. I’m not a bad dancer if the music’s just right.”
I kept my expression carefully neutral, though my grip on the camera tightened.
I had no idea what Nate was playing at. He’d been flirty with Adrian, but then he’d backed off long enough to tease us with the stupid #TeamMaddrian thing. Had he believed Adrian’s explanation about the kiss being staged for content?
It shouldn’t matter if Adrian attended a barn dance with Nate.
It shouldn’t matter if they hit it off, if something developed between them.
After all, Adrian would be gone in less than two weeks, back to his perfect life in LA, while Nate would remain here—solid, dependable, part of the community. And apparently flirty as fuck.
So why did the thought of Adrian dancing with Nate, doing… other things with Nate, make me want to shove both of them off the sleigh bench?
No reason. No reason at all.
I dug into my pocket and pulled out two pieces of gum before shoving them into my mouth and concentrating on the sharp burst of flavor.Get your head out of your ass and work, dumbass.
When we arrived back at Nate’s farm, the sky had darkened with approaching snow clouds. Nate busied himself with unhitching the horses while Adrian helped, listening attentively to instructions and seeming genuinely interested in the animals.
I hung back, packing up equipment in Adrian’s rental and trying to maintain at least the illusion of professionalism.
“I wasn’t kidding when I said you’ve got a natural touch,” I heard Nate tell Adrian as they led June back to her stall. “Ever considered moving somewhere you could have horses of your own?”
Adrian’s laugh floated back to me. “My condo association would have something to say about that. Besides, I’m not exactly the rural type.”
