Page 33 of Valentine Nook
I’ve met him three times, and he’s either naked or yelling. And don’t get me started when he turned up at the cottage covered in blood with a story about baby cows. At least he seems to have washed since then.
I’m usually good at reading people but this guy’s impossible, because right now he almost looks happy to see me.
I tear my eyes away from Lando’s, trying not to frown, and focus back on Eddie. “Hey, Eddie. I’m all good. How ’bout you?”
“Can’t complain. Can’t complain. But while you’re passing, maybe you can help us out. I’m telling His Grace here about the bunting?—”
“Bunting?”
Eddie thumbs behind him, and the pair of them turn around so we’re all facing Valentine High Street.
It’s as busy as it usually is, but since I was here yesterday, the entire length of the street has been festooned in multicolored flags strung up from lamppost to lamppost traversing the road. Down on the far end, I spot a couple of guys up on ladders, adding the final touches.
It reminds me of the Fourth of July and brings a huge smile to my face.
“It looks so cute.”
“You think?” asks Lando. “It’s not?—”
“Your Grace, we always have the bunting,” Eddie says with more than a little exasperation. “It’s the summer fair.”
“I know, but this is my second year in charge.” Lando shrugs. “I wanted something better than bunting.”
“What’s better than bunting?”
I’m wondering that myself when I glance between them and realize they’re waiting on me to provide it.
“Oh . . . um . . .” I hate being put on the spot. “I dunno. Balloon arch?”
Eddie sighs because obviously a balloon arch isnotbetter and turns back to Lando. “You want to come and check out the rest of the decorations?”
“Sure, lead the way,” he replies, his gaze flicking to mine. “Um . . . d’you mind? Can you hold Thunder for a second?”
Before I have the chance to say absolutely fucking not, he tosses me the reins and takes off after Eddie followed by a chocolate Labrador I hadn’t noticed.
Now what?
I’m not great with horses.
A few years ago, I was riding a horse during filming when it got spooked and took off down a path, but only after deciding he didn’t want me tagging along. I could have been competing in the rodeo for his attempts to buck me off, and I was catapulted through the air onto the road.
Luckily, I didn’t break anything, but the concussion and overnight hospital stay put me off ever getting back in the saddle.
I’m frozen in place, figuring out what to do when I realize a couple of girls are standing near the fountain staring at me, but because of this monstrous beast, I can’t do what I usually dowhen people stare at me, which is drop my head and walk away.
I push my sunglasses firmly up my nose instead.
“Your horse is gorgeous.”
“Oh . . . thanks. Yeah, he’s not mine.” I smile back, wishing I hadn’t replied because it only encourages the girls to step forward and stroke him.
Even though Thunder—Thunder, I mean, that’s not the name for a super chill horse—has barely moved an inch, I don’t know how he’s going to react to two strangers touching him, but he doesn’t seem to care in the slightest. Of the two of us, I’m the one fending off a panic attack.
The first girl holds her hand out, allowing him to nibble at her palm, and I catch a glimpse of his giant horse teeth chomping on nothing but air. What a tease.
EvenIfeel disappointed for him.
“How old is he?”
