Page 18 of Stick Around,
Tater Tot chose that moment to let out a massive, rumbling fart, followed by a grin. Kellan and I looked at each other for a split second before bursting into laughter.
I stretched my legs out in front of me with a wince. “I would literally kill someone for access to a hot bath right now. My cabin only has a shower.”
Something shifted in Kellan’s expression, and it sent warmth crawling up my neck. “You know, the main house has a hot tub on the back deck. You’re welcome to use it anytime.”
“Right, I’ll just come barging into your house and commandeer your hot tub.” My amusement died when I realized he wasn’t smiling in a joking way. “Wait, are you serious?”
“Dead serious.” His eyes held mine a beat longer than necessary. “It’s got jets that would work wonders on sore muscles. And the view at sunset is something else… around eight.”
The suggestion hung in the air between us. It was friendly on the surface, but with currents running beneath that made my pulse quicken.
“That’s...” I swallowed, suddenly very aware of how close we were sitting and how his eyes seemed to darken as they studied my face. “That’s really nice of you to offer.”
“I’m a really nice guy.” The corner of his mouth lifted in a half-smile that wasn’t completely nice in intention.
I gave him a look that I hoped conveyed both my interest and my hesitation. “I bet you are.”
The moment stretched between us. His eyes dropped briefly to my lips before returning to meet my gaze, and I found myself leaning slightly toward him without consciously deciding to do so.
“Kellan!” Enzo’s voice called from across the arena, shattering the moment. “Phone call! It’s that reporter from Western Living Magazine!”
Kellan blinked, then sighed. “Be right there!” He turned back to me with a rueful smile. “Duty calls. Think about the hot tub, though. The offer stands.”
He stood, brushed invisible dust from his jeans, and gave me a look that suggested he very much hoped I would take him up on his invitation.
“I’ll see you later, Quinn.” The way my name rolled off his tongue sent a pleasant shiver down my spine.
I watched him walk away, trying and failing not to notice how well he filled out his jeans. “See you,” I called belatedly, my voice embarrassingly breathless.
I forced myself to stand, wincing as my battered muscles protested. The walk back to my cabin was slow and painful, but my mind wasn’t on my physical discomfort. Instead, I was caught in a mental tug-of-war between the sensible part of me that knew getting involved with anyone right now was a terrible idea and the increasingly vocal part that wanted to see exactly what Kellan Brooks looked like in a hot tub at sunset.
“It’s just a hot tub,” I muttered to myself as I limped along the path. “For therapeutic purposes only.”
Even I didn’t believe that for a second.
Chapter 6
Therapeutic Purposes
Kellan
Istepped back from my masterpiece, surveying the charcuterie board with the pride of a five-year-old presenting his mom with his handprint turkey.
The tiny salami roses had taken three YouTube tutorials and more patience than I typically applied to anything that wasn’t horse-related, but damn if they didn’t look professional. I’d arranged the cheeses in cascading order from mild to sharp, nestled fresh strawberries and grapes between artisan crackers, and added little pools of honey and fig jam in ceramic bowls I’d dug out from the back of a cabinet.
Was it excessive for someone I’d known less than forty-eight hours? Probably.
Did I care? Not particularly.
It would have been easy to just throw some crackers and cheese on a plate, but this was much more appealing and romantic. Not that I was going for romantic. She might not even show.
The back door creaked open, and Reid’s boots scuffed against the entryway mat. Walter trotted in ahead of him, immediately heading for the water bowl in the corner.
Reid stopped short, blinking at my creation. “Did Martha Stewart stop by while I was outside?”
I flashed him a grin, adjusting a cracker. “Just thought I’d put something together. No big deal.”
Reid approached the island, circling it slowly like he was inspecting a crime scene. “Uh huh. And the occasion is...?”
