Page 74 of Sweet Like Whiskey

“Is that…a thing?” I ask, heading his way.

He grins up at me, squinting against the sun. I nearly lose my breath just looking at him. “People love it,” he says, absently scratching the head of a nearby goat. “Do you have anyone in town who does yoga?”

“Annabelle,” Virginia answers, doing some move that has her leg sticking straight out behind her. “She runs classes out of the community center.”

I hum, a little too caught up in Ash’s eyes to answer. They look crystalline in the sunlight, clear blue with hints of silver-gray, like clouds reflecting off the water. I didn’t understand those storms in his eyes, not at first. Not until I learned what he’s living with.

Now, I can’t help but wonder if he’s in some pain right this minute. If that’s what that subtle pinch is for as he smiles up at me.

“Jackson?” he says, head cocked.

I squat down in front of him. “You doing all right?”

His expression settles into something soft but reproachful. “Jack.”

“Just gimme a number,” I say quietly. “One to ten.”

He lets out a sigh. But then he says, “Two, tops. I’m fine, really.”

I nod, but before I can stand back up, Ash gives the brim of my hat a tug.

“You didn’t say hello,” he says with a grin.

Ah, hell.

I lean in, and Ash tips up my hat, inhaling as our lips come together. He hums into the kiss, and I have to pull back quicker than I’d prefer, lest I lose control.

Ash smiles, giving me a wink and tapping my hat back into place. “Hello to you, too. Now what do I get for goodbye?”

Virginia snickers.

“That eager to get rid of me?” I mock-grumble, standing up. My knee pops, reminding me of my age.

“Nah,” Ash says casually. “I much prefer when you come, not go.”

He ignores the scowl I send his way. “Not in front of the chicks,” I tell him.

“’Scuse me?” Virginia says, pausing to lift her sunglasses. “What does my gender have to do with any—”

“He’s talking about the Silkies,” Ash says, barely restrained laughter in his voice.

“Not to mention the kids,” I call, already heading toward the barn. “They shouldn’t have to hear that.”

“They’re goats, Jack,” Ash calls back. “They don’t understand.”

“Oh my God,” I hear Virginia say. “Are you two…is this some weird sort of barnyard flirting?”

I snort, rounding the doorway into the barn. Snickerdoodle is inside, staring up at the loft. The cage that Remi strapped into place is just visible up in the rafters. As is the raccoon trapped inside. Remi messaged me earlier to let me know he caught the pest that was getting into our feed bins. But bleeding heart that my brother is, he left the job ofdisposalto me.

The raccoon scrambles against the wire cage as I shift the ladder into place to get it, and Snickerdoodle nickers.

“Keeping an eye on our captive, eh?” I ask the pony.

She stomps the ground, quite the fierce steed.

Snickerdoodle watches the proceedings as I put on a thick glove, retrieve the cage, and climb back down from the loft. I stow the ladder before heading out of the barn, meddlesome pony on my tail. There’s a family in the petting farm now, and Ash and Virginia are rolling up their mats. Ash smiles, tucking the mat under his arm as he jogs over to me.

“Who’s this?” he asks, bending down to get a look inside the cage.

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