Page 121 of Brim Over Boot
“I did,” he says, slapping Jackson’s shoulder. “Tell him I called it.”
Jackson shrugs apologetically.
“Fucking hell,” I complain. “This isn’t news?”
I glance around the room, all of my family—sans Lawson and Wendy—staring back at me and Noah, not a single one of them remotely surprised. Remi’s lips twist into a smirk.
“For fuck’s sake,” I grumble.
Noah rubs the back of my shoulder. “Thank you for taking this in stride,” he says like a goddamn gentleman. Since when is Noah fucking King a gentleman?
I give him a glare, but he only smiles at me.
“Well, we’re very happy for you both,” my mom pipes up. I wait for the catch I know is coming. “Does this mean you two are done sneaking around?”
I groan again, and my mom taps her neck surreptitiously, thinking she’s being subtle. Jackson laughs before covering it with a cough.
“Anyways,” I say loudly. “Now that you’ve met my…Noah, we’ll be on our way. Say bye.”
“Hold on now,” my dad says, resituating on the couch and clasping his hands in front of himself. “Noah, you ever seen a castration?”
“We’re going,” I say loudly, forcibly steering Noah out of the living room to a chorus of cackles.
I hear Ash mutter, “Do not recommend,” amidst the noise.
“They seem nice,” Noah says, clearly trying not to laugh.
“They’re the worst,” I assure him. “I love them terribly, but I’d trade any one of them in given the chance.Eh. Not Remi.”
“Is he doing okay?” Noah asks, the two of us stepping outside onto the porch, the sun high overhead and the breeze blowing gently across the grass behind the house.
I nod, giving him a tug toward the horse barn. “He’s better. Sometimes it takes him a day or two to fully recover, but you’d never know it. He’s strong.”
“I don’t doubt that,” Noah says.
When we reach the barn, I head toward Clementine’s stall. Noah keeps pace with me, looking around curiously, even though I know it’s not the first time he’s been in here. My horse lifts her head immediately in greeting, waiting for me to open the door before headbutting my chest. I rub along her neck and scratch behind her ears.
“Clem,” I say softly as Noah steps up beside me, “you know Noah King. Asshole extraordinaire. Good kisser. Kinda a decent guy.”
“Quite the progression there,” Noah deadpans.
I snort. “You’re only allowed to bite him if he really deserves it, all right?”
Clementine kicks her head up in acknowledgement.
“And, uh,” I say, giving Noah a little shove back into the hall. I lead him one stall over, to a bay roan whose tail is swooshing gently. “Noah, this is Hazel. She’s been a workhorse for the last ten years, but after several spooks recently, we learned she’s losing sight in her left eye. She’s retired now and could use someone to care for her.”
Noah stills.
“She can still be ridden just fine,” I go on, “but a calmer life would be better for her. And I thought, well, if you wanna…”
I trail off, unsure of how to take Noah’s silence.
He clears his throat once. Twice. “Are you asking if I want her?”
“Well, yes?” I say, opening the door to Hazel’s stall. She’s always been a real good girl, gentle and sweet, and I give her a pet along her nose that she accepts readily. “No pressure. But you mentioned how you’ve never had one of your own ’cause you and Walter don’t have the land for it. We have plenty of space here, so—”
My sentence ends abruptly as I’m tugged into a sturdy pair of arms. Noah hugs me so tightly I can feel my bones creak, his hand in my hair not giving me an inch in which to move. His kisses my neck, stubble bristling, and my eyes flutter closed, my hands sliding to his back and hanging on.
