Page 81 of Second Quarter Comeback
“Of course she does,” I mutter. “Why wouldn’t she?”
When we reach the stables, the barn doors are wide open, creaking slightly in the breeze.
“She can open these too?” I ask, incredulous.
“Yep,” Killion says, stepping inside.
The stable smells like hay and horses, warm and earthy in a way that would usually be comforting. But not now. Now, Sarah is wagging her tail furiously by an open stall, looking way too pleased with herself.
“She opened one of the horse stalls,” Killion groans.
Lucian jogs in behind us, finally looking concerned. “Dad’s going to maim me if we don’t get Blaze back,” he mutters, eyeing the empty stall.
The horse—a massive, chestnut beauty with a white blaze down its nose—is trotting casually toward the barn door like it’s out for a Sunday stroll.
“Oh, no,” I whisper, my eyes widening.
“Relax,” Killion says, rolling up his sleeves. “It’s not two horses this time.”
“This time?” I choke out.
Sarah barks happily, clearly proud of herself.
“Okay,” Killion says, already moving. “You grab Sarah. I’ll handle the horse.”
“Oh, sure,” I say, dripping with sarcasm. “Let me wrangle the four-legged escape artist while you channel your inner horse whisperer. Sounds completely fair.”
He flashes me a grin that shouldn’t be as attractive as it is. “Teamwork, baby.”
“Teamwork, my ass,” I mutter, lunging for Sarah. But she thinks it’s a game, darting out of my reach with a playful bark.
“Sarah, stop,” Lucian calls with a commanding voice. “Come.”
The dog freezes mid-bolt, her ears flicking back. She looks at Lucian, then at me, then back at Lucian, before finally trotting over to him like an obedient angel.
“You could’ve done that ten minutes ago,” I grumble, brushing hay off my jeans.
He grins. “Now how fun would that be?”
Meanwhile, Killion approaches the horse with calm, practiced ease. He clicks his tongue, murmuring something low and soothing as he extends his hands. The horse slows, its ears flicking toward him, and I watch, mesmerized, as he gently grabs the halter.
“Gotcha,” he says softly, patting the horse’s neck.
“That was . . . weirdly impressive,” I admit, still holding my hands on my hips like I did all the work.
“I’ve got skills,” he says, leading Blaze back to its stall. “Growing up here has its perks.”
“Oh, I’m sure you were just a regular horse whisperer growing up, weren’t you?”
“Jealous?” he teases, shutting the stall door securely.
“Of you? Never,” I say, though my smile betrays me.
He steps closer, his grin softening as his eyes meet mine. “You okay? No injuries from our little adventure?”
“Just my dignity,” I say, brushing at imaginary dirt on my jacket.
He chuckles, leaning down to press a quick, lingering kiss to my forehead. “You handled yourself pretty well.”
