Page 85 of Catching Sparks

“And he fucked it up,” Bryce mutters, putting two and two together without me needing to explain further.

Anna sighs, frowning deeply. “I’m sorry, Pops. Is there anything we can do to help?”

I reach for her hand and then pry Bryce’s out of her lap, squeezing them both. “You’re both already helping. I love you.”

“Love you too, Poppy,” Anna says.

Bryce stares at me for a moment longer, not as believing as Anna is. My friend since childhood, she knows me like the back of her hand, and as I slip on a brave face for my own benefit, it’s obvious she doesn’t buy it one bit. I’m grateful when she doesn’t call me on it and instead squeezes my hand back.

“We love you, P. Forever.”

For right now, that’s more than enough.

30

GARRISON

With a swing of my hips, I toss a hay bale to the ground and curse at the burn in my biceps. The thick brown gloves hugging my fingers keep the bale wire from ripping into my skin as I grab another and haul it up before throwing it to the side. Sweat drips from my forehead into my eyes. I don’t bother wiping it away before grabbing another bale.

Today marks the third day in a row I’ve been placed on feeding duty. If I wasn’t aware that no one but Johnny and Anna knew what happened with Poppy and me last week, I’d assume this was Wade’s wicked form of punishment.

Streaks of calamine lotion still run up and down my arms from the consistent rash I’ve been sporting while working with all this hay. The itching discomfort is nothing compared to the ache in my muscles. I haven’t strained myself like this physically since before I left home, whenever I found the time to sneak off to the gym in my penthouse.

Which did not happen often.

The first two days after I returned from Poppy’s house were spent following the two Steele Ranch horse trainers around, shadowing them. Wade demanded I get to know them, and I couldn’t help but being a bit curious as to who is working with the horses on a daily basis. Kip, especially. I’m not interested in learning how to train horses, but it was intriguing to watch the way they interact with the animals.

Kip’s been a chatty, needy beast every night, occupying me long after work has finished. Between him, Eliza stopping by with containers of food, and the excessive online shopping for gifts that will never see the light of day, I shouldn’t have had the time to torture myself with thoughts of Poppy and the fucking pathetic way I left things between us. But I have.

Heaving another bale from the stack, I grind my teeth and throw it further than I’ve thrown one yet. The memory of stricken brown eyes filling with hope flashes across my vision, and I push myself up onto a hay bale before gripping another in a tight fist but not lifting it.

My ego has kept me from getting in the truck and driving to her house to apologize. Doing so will only prove her right. It will be acceptance. I’m man enough to admit that I’m terrified of that. I’m lacking the experience required to navigate a relationship like this. The only thing I know is that I want her in a way that’s firmly over the line of simple sexual partners.

It’s not plausible to explore those feelings more than I’ve already done. I have to use my head, not my heart. My company and reputation deserve that caution, but it feels wrong. I’ve put my company at the forefront of my life for years, and it wasn’t until I met Poppy that I truly felt awake, like there was more out there to life than work.

Fuck, I haven’t even checked in on my company in weeks because I had no desire to know. Not when I had Poppy occupying my time.

Those thoughts are selfish, and I’ve been struggling with them since the moment I stepped out of her house, leaving her to watch me walk away. Longer than that, if I’m completely honest.

I lean forward on my arms and stare down at the hay bale, my breaths rapid and heartbeat quick in my ears. If my father knew how messed up I am right now, he’d be so smug. This was probably his plan in the first place. He couldn’t stop speaking this town’s praises after he first visited with Brody last year. It’s the perfect place to settle down, he said.

The man has been sitting in his studio, crossing his fingers that I’d come back with a woman at my side. Instead, he’s only given me another thing to blame him for.

“Are you almost done?”

I stiffen before looking over my shoulder at Johnny. He’s standing a ways back, his arms crossed and features sullen. An alarm sounds in my head at his expression, not used to seeing him so standoffish. Not with me.

“Yeah,” I grunt.

“Good. Horses are hungry.”

“I just fed them again two hours ago.”

Johnny rolls his lips, tugging at the collar of his ratty T-shirt as if he’s uncomfortable. “Well, they can be hungry again already.”

“Which one needs more food?”

“Kip,” he blurts out before wincing, immediately registering his mistake. “I meant Joker.”

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