“Dothey?” Stormy’s rich, low voice sounded delighted, and Jaq blushed. The kid wassofucking gay. This would be good for her. Positive role models and all that. Angie knew a lost lamb when one came bleating onto her farm looking for love—or horses, which amounted to the same thing.
She wondered if Stevie had noticed the burn scars on the kid’s wrists. Self-inflicted? There was trouble at home, all right. She’d bet her own house, leaks and all, on it.
“Next time you come in, tell whoever’s working I said you get a free drink. I’ll put a note out for my baristas.”
Jaq’s blush deepened.
“Watch out for that one,” said Stevie, fake warning lacing her voice. “She’ll get you hooked on her baked goods.”
Jaq couldn’t afford those baked goods if the holes Angie’d seen in her socks were any indicator. It was hard for Angie not to see her own childhood looking back at her: strife, poverty, and worse. There was usually a “worse” in there somewhere. Those huge brown eyes would get Jaq far, though, once she figured out how to use them.
“It worked on me.” Ivy smiled. She looked immaculate in riding breeches, boots, and a white T-shirt that only Ivy could wear to a barn. Angie was one hundred percent certain Ivy had dressed in that outfit to torment Lilian, who, while casually sipping from a tumbler of iced tea, was clearly struggling to keep cool on several levels. Her eyes kept straying to Ivy’s ass and miles of toned leg. The woman was unfairly attractive, and Jaq’s eyes settled on her with adoration.
“Ivy has a secret admirer,” Angie whispered into Stormy’s ear.
“Secret my ass,” Stormy replied with a throaty chuckle. “Though I’d take riding lessons from Holden any day of the week.Barebacklessons.”
“Slut.”
“Takes one to know one.”
Angie kissed Stormy’s cheek and released her. A loose curl tickled her cheek. “I hope you have more bows,” she said to Stevie.
“Sure don’t. Y’all will have to take turns.”
“Are you gonna correct our postures?” Stormy’s voice was suggestive.
Stevie shrugged, still looking at Angie. She needed to stop that or else Angie was going to snatch her by the wrist and haul her into the house for a private chat, and by chat she definitely meant the kind of communication that didn’t require words.
“Keep it PG, coffee temptress,” said Stevie.
“I brought some leftover pastries for rewards.”
“I do love an incentive.” Angie slung her arm around Stormy’s shoulders again. If she kept her hands on Stormy, she might be able to keep them off Stevie.
“Let’s get to it, then.”
Stevie walked by Angie on her way off the patio. Their hands passed within centimeters but did not touch, so close Angie could feel the slight breeze from her movement and an imagined warmth. She felt the absence like a caress.
Was Stevie toying with her? Once, she wouldn’t have said Stevie had it in her; that was before Stevie had stripped in front of her.Forher.
Fuck.
“You cold?” Stormy asked.
“What? No, it’s seventy-six degrees out, or something.”
“You shivered.” Stormy’s eyes followed Stevie. “Unless, of course, there’s something you want to tell me about?”
“Nope.”
Stormy’s chuckle was far too knowing for comfort.
Stevie had set up her new target earlier—a bale of hay with a circle spray-painted in blue, because blue was the color of paint she’d found in the barn. In the evening light, the orchard glowed around the bull’s-eye, the greens softening and the wildflowers dotting the grass with luminous yellows and whites. She’d never imagined living someplace this beautiful.
Now, she was about to launch a barrage of arrows at it. She hoped nobody hit the trees.
“Okay, this lesson is for Jaq so the rest of you can shut up and listen closely.” She winked at Jaq to indicate she was joking about the shutting up. The lesson was for the kid, though. She was not entirely sure, frankly, how word had gotten out about it, but the comfortable laughter of her friends was welcome.