Page 76 of Braving the Storm
He grunts something inaudible, bent double, driving a nail with precision into the horseshoe. The kind of ten-thousand-hour practiced perfection that only someone as skilled as he could achieve. A mere mortal such as myself would certainly have either broken my thumb with that hammer or ended up with the nail straight through my hand rather than the horse’s hoof.
“They look fantastic.” Layla comes up beside me and runs a hand over the long, glossy neck. “Ready to put in a big shift this summer, aren’t you, gorgeous boy?” Big dewy eyes blink at her, and I’m no better than the horse, staring at Layla like she’s the green-eyed elfin queen of this barn and I’m her humble servant.
From all accounts, Devil’s Peak Ranch will never have been busier, after Layla’s social media took off last year. She started out by posting cute videos and photos as a fun way to share her days when she first took a job here during her veterinary training, then everything snowballed.
Now, the upcoming summer season is almost fully booked, with a waitlist stretching from here to Crimson Ridge, and these horses are the star attraction.
“Yeah, well, Colt’s a fussy bastard. I’m sure he’ll take one look and tell me he could do better himself.” Storm clips the excess nail endings with a pair of metal snips so they don't stick out from the hoof, then wipes his forehead with the back of his arm.
I nearly buckle at the knees when he hits me with those piercing blue eyes in the act of straightening up. It’s only a quick glance, but it does something fluttery to my insides, all the same, to discover his eyes seeking out mine immediately.
“Like he’s got time for that.” Layla chuckles.
“For giving me hell? You know the prick will always find time.” Storm picks up the file and makes quick work of smoothing down any rough edges above the horseshoe. Long, smooth strokes that keep me entranced with the tattoos on his hands and veins popping.
“How about I put in a good word for you? He might even pick up your tab for dinner this weekend if I ask nicely?” Layla teases back, and it’s all so effortless being around these people. There’s no agenda or hidden purpose. I love the way everyone is justgood heartedto each other. Not trying to play a game, score points, or squirrel away some detail of a weakness to be used against the person at a later point in time.
“Fuck that. You owe me about a year’s worth of hot dinners, Stôrmand Lane. After clearing out my entire deep freezer of meat while I was gone.” Colt arrives in the barn, looking rugged and like he’s been carved from the very landscape out here. As he approaches, his eyes are focused only on Layla, with an unspoken language flowing between them.
God, they’re so perfectly in tune with each other. It makes my heart pitter-patter to see that kind of soul-deep bond between two people.
A flesh and blood reminder that a kind of love likethisdoes exist.
For the lucky ones, at least.
Colt leads his horse behind him, pausing on his way past us to stop and brush some fine hairs off Layla’s forehead with a little smirk playing at the corner of his mouth, before he leans down and kisses her neck. It’s the most romantic fucking thing I’ve ever seen in the flesh, and if I wasn’t holding the halter in front of me, there is every chance my entire soul might have melted onto the floor.
“For putting up with prince charming, feeding your goddamn cows, and being balls deep in ice all winter so you could go skinny dipping in the Mediterranean? I’d say we’re even, old man.” Stormkeeps working but shakes his head as he files off the remaining nail-ends.
The two of them keep bickering in their gruff way, and Layla takes over handling things like the horse’s saddle and tack while chiming in with the conversation as she works.
Meanwhile, I’m standing here wondering if anyone could look at me and immediately know. Would they have any inkling of the fact I’m wearinghiscuff beneath the sleeve of this jacket.His jacket.
Would anyone ever suspect a thing? Our little secret and all the forbidden intricacies our arrangement entails.
The more I chew the inside of my cheek and shift my weight, the more this naughty little hidden detail turns me the fuck on.
Storm finishes up, with this being the final horse he’s working on for the day, and I’m doing all I can to be his perfect assistant. Now that I’m somewhat more familiar with the routine of how he goes about things, I feel like I can actually be useful in packing up and getting ready to leave.
We’ve just finished loading the truck when Layla follows us outside.
“So, we’re all meeting at six o’clock on Saturday… I’m leaving this oaf in your capable hands, city girl, to make sure he’s at least made an attempt at cleaning himself up.”
Shutting the tailgate with a forceful shunt, Storm gives a wry smile in Layla’s direction. His blue eyes swing my way, and there’s no mistaking the trouble flickering there. It’s boyish and devious and far too goddamn attractive for my health.
“Don’t worry Layla, I’ll be the perfect uncle and listen to everything my niece tells me to do.”
I nearly choke, one hand shooting out in an attempt to steady myself on the passenger’s door.
“Perfect. Drive safely guys, can’t wait for you to meet Sage.” Layla waves as she heads toward the main house, the setting sun casting an orange glow in the reflection bouncing off the big planes of glass windows along the south-facing vista of the property.
As I yank my door open, I level my sternest glare across the distance between us. “You can’t keep saying shit like that. You’re a bad, bad man.”
I’m greeted with a cocky smirk as he slides into the driver’s side.
“Yup, and you’re getting hornier every time I say it, so we’re all winning here, little thorn.”
Chapter 25
