Page 17 of Chasing Home

“Saturday at eleven? I can whip us up a light lunch to have while we talk.”

Anna does a terrible job of hiding her smugness as she listens to us talk, and I take that as another good sign. It appears that I trust her enough after these past weeks together to know that if she thought me going there was a bad idea, she’d voice that to me. Eliza might be her boyfriend’s grandmother, but I don’t think that would keep her quiet in this situation.

“Alright. We can do Saturday.”

6

JOHNNY

Wire digs through my gloves as I heave another haybale onto the growing stack in front of me. Sweat drips down my forehead and chin and chest. The shirt I wore to work this morning lies on the ground, warming beneath the sun as I work. I sweated through it ten minutes into my task and was quick to chuck it off when it started to stick to my skin.

I’m probably burning to shit right now in the thirty-five-degree weather with no sunscreen on my bare back and shoulders, but it’s better than the alternative. And it’ll help even out my farmer’s tan.

The horses in the field beside me watch from behind the fence, giving me pouty eyes like they think the hay I’m hauling is tastier than the grass beneath their hooves. Joker, my black-and-white polka-dotted mare, is inside the original Steele Ranch stable, munching on the exact same hay I’m hauling. Special treatment for the special girl. Maybe the other horses have a point.

Lifting another bale, I swing my torso and start a third stack beside the previous two along the stable wall. The construction crew behind me is loud, banging and drilling at the beams they’re meant to finish by tomorrow. The structure will be done in the time they promised, but the siding issue is still ongoing. They’ve returned the wrong wood and ordered the new stuff, but it’ll take eight days to get here.

I made the decision to keep that information from Wade for now. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Not when it comes to this. A day is a day, and if he’s pissed about being kept in the dark about it come eight days from now, then he can take it up with me.

“Stacking bales is one job I don’t miss doing.”

The familiar voice comes from behind me. I spin to grin at my friend and yank my gloves off before tucking them into my back pocket.

“You’re here early today,” I say, heading toward Garrison.

A few months ago, seeing him dressed in a pair of thigh huggers and a plain white tee would have taken me by surprise. But not anymore. While Garrison Beckett hasn’t shed his billionaire CEO skin quite yet, he’s become a pro at adapting to a more casual, rancher vibe while he’s here. His time living on Steele Ranch is partially responsible for that, but I think him falling in love with Poppy had more to do with it than anything else.

“Poppy said we had to be here by eleven. Something about a show happening at the ranch? You know anything about that?” he asks.

I smooth a hand over my head before shaking it. “A show?”

Garrison shrugs, his eyes inspecting the area around us. They linger on the crew behind us, something like cold annoyance growing there before he’s focusing on the main house across the road.

“Who knows. It isn’t a bad thing to be here early.”

“You say the sweetest things, Garry. If you wanted to spend some time with me, you could have just called or texted.”

He ignores me, but I know he heard every word I said. His grumpiness is one of the things I like most about him. Well, that and his blunt humour. I love that shit.

“Where is Poppy, anyway?” I ask.

“Talking with Eliza. You know how they are.”

I laugh, twisting to face the main house. “Yeah, I should have figured that one out on my own.”

“You’d think they’d all been separated for months, not a week.”

“It’s cute, though. That they’re all so close. It’s like you, me, and Brody,” I tease, knocking our shoulders together.

He scowls at me, shaking his arm out. “Not quite.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Just you and me, then.”

Garrison and Brody’s relationship has grown over the past few months, but they’re nowhere close to the finish line. Brody working under Garrison’s music label, Swift Edge Records, has kept the line between friends and colleagues nice and thick between them. Regardless of the fact both of their women are best friends, they haven’t quite followed suit just yet.

“Yeah, like you and me,” he admits.

My lips stretch into a smile as I nod to the house. “Should we go join the girls now?”

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