Page 82 of Braving the Storm
I know enough about Storm’s routine when he’s undertaking his farrier work now. If I tag along with them, I’ll be in his way, plain and simple. He seems to be happiest having his space to work alone and get in his rhythm, then will usually call me over if and when I’m needed.
So, for now, I enjoy being around the animals and watching them. They fascinate me, and calm me, in a way I can’t really put a finger on.
The next stall I get to, I pause in front of. An almost jet-black horse hangs right at the back wall. Big liquid eyes bore into me from behind the longest set of eyelashes I’ve ever seen.
As I stand there, one hoof stamps on the ground. Almost as if I’m being told to move along.
Something makes me stay exactly where I am. It doesn’t really make any sense why, seeing as there are so many horses here, yet I feel like I want to figure out why this boy is urging me not to look his way.
Shoving my phone in my pocket, I hold my palms up and reassure him I haven’t got anything in my hands to be worried about, then step closer to his door. He lets out a snort, stamps again, and bounces his head several times, still hanging as far from where I stand as physically possible.
Fuck off.
His message is loud and clear.
“Hey, boy.” I keep my voice low. Glancing up at the name tag beside his stall, I see that he’s one of the temporary boarders. “Just here visiting, are ya, Teddy?”
His nostrils flare.
“Teddy,” I say his name again with a little smile. “You don’t seem like a teddy bear at all.”
Another stamp. A swish of his tail.
“No way, there’s too much feistiness in you… and you’re very handsome.”
This time, his ears twitch my way.
“I’ll bet you’ve got a soft side under all that bravado, though.”
He moves fast for such a small space, suddenly right up in my grill, and I can’t help my reaction to jerk back a little. The asshole bats those oversized eyelashes at me and makes a noise that tells me he’s pleased with himself.
“Oh, it’s like that, is it? You’re all talk, aren’t you?” I cock my head to one side and step back to where I was a second ago with my arms folded.
Teddy doesn’t shy away this time. Instead, we stand there watching each other for a moment. Eventually, he lowers his head, much slower this time, and nudges my elbow.
“Hmm. Full of bullshit and hot air, and now you want something, you’ll demand it, huh?”
I let my palm roam up the long, elegant line of his nose, feeling heat and short hairs beneath my touch.
His warm, humid breaths puff out, and when I get to the spot between his eyes and start scratching with my fingertips, he makes a rumbling, contented noise from deep inside that powerful chest.
As I keep scratching, I feel eyes on me.
Turning my attention, it’s not my cowboy I’m met with the sight of, but Lucas Rhodes. The man stands with a shoulder leaned up against one of the wooden partition walls, with arms crossed and an ankle hooked over the other. It’s not exactly a smile on his face, but he’s thoughtfully observing our interaction.
For a moment, I worry I’ve done something I shouldn’t have. Lifting my hand away, I’m just about to step back and maybe apologize for standing here patting his horses without asking first when a big black whiskery muzzle bunts my hand.
Lucas starts chuckling.
“I’m sorry.” A smile tugs at my lips. “It seems I’ve endedup being Teddy’s personal scratching post after two seconds of being here.”
“Stay there as long as you like.” He shakes his head and pushes off the wall. When he turns to grab a shovel and pitchfork from the stall behind him, I feel Teddy flinch a little at the sharp sound of metal scraping against the ground.
Except he remains there, letting me continue stroking as I let my fingers drift higher toward his soft ears.
“How long is he staying here for?” I ask.
Lucas joins me. “Not sure. This boy’s had a hard road before now.”
