Page 24 of The First Day of Breeding Season
BRYNN
I don’t sleep well.
When I saw that tattoo around Drew’s wrist, I knew that he must have known my father, and I didn’t tell him that. I kept that secret to myself, and now I’m paying for that choice.
“He was my mentor…the best of men…I can’t…”
I can’t.
He didn’t need to finish that thought.
My dad was his mentor.
He can’t be anything more to me than the same in turn.
I shouldn’t have let him kiss me.
But the way he took care of me, and then the way helookedat me, like I was water and he’d been walking in the desert for months and months and months….
I shiver and force myself out of bed.
It’s going to be hard to forget that look, and the way his hands felt holding my face so he could kiss me deeper and deeper. Hard, but necessary.
There’s a note beside the coffee maker telling me that Drew is already down at the horse barn.
I fill the Thermos he left for me, nervous butterflies panicking in my belly.
Then I race back to my room and finish packing what I need for a week on horseback. I’ve done trips like this before, so my battery bank, my voice recorder, my notebooks and pens—that’s all neatly tucked away in one saddlebag. And Drew’s email instructions were very clear on what else I need, but suddenly I’m second guessing if I have enough sunscreen, toothpaste, and what about the condoms I got from student health? Should I bring them just in case?
I think about how furious Drew looked as he squeezed my ankle, our tattoos brushing together.
How shattered he looked when he climbed off me.
No condoms. Not even just in case.
Maybe if there’s no option for sex, I’ll be extra good. Extra professional.
Even if I don’t want to. Even if all I want to do is soothe Drew’s hurt with the softest kisses.
At the barn, Raul is leading Ace into the trailer.
“Where’s Drew?” I ask.
He nods at the glow of red tail lights already bouncing down the lane.
Oh.
I guess Drew had a plan to avoid any awkward morning-after encounters, and there was no need for nervous butterflies.
Raul doesn’t notice my disappointment. “He’s got the bulls. We’ll follow him.”
I take a deep breath before tossing my saddle bags into his truck bed.
All right, then.
On the drive up, I pepper the ranch manager with questions, because I can, and it’s better than letting my brain spin into more and more second guessing of this plan.
And I think I have my feelings on lock when we pull up at the end of the access road, right behind the truck Drew drove up.
