Page 34 of Organized Chaos

“I hate to say I told you so, but…” Sarah trailed off and lifted a shoulder. “Told you so.”

There went his laughter again. He propped his elbow on the windowsill and watched her drive.

The wheels rumbled down the road, a peaceful companion. As was Phillip’s presence. She’d never really considered herself the type to get attached to a guy, but Phillip was quickly working his way deep into her heart.

“Have you figured it out yet?” she asked.

He angled his body toward hers as the ranch house came into view. “Figured what out?”

“What this is.” She motioned between them.

“No.” He didn’t dodge the question or try to explain it way. He simply twirled the end of her braid around his fingers. “I’m having fun figuring it out as we go along. What is it you call that, being spontaneous?”

“Yeah.” She didn’t have time to elaborate since Roger was leaving his truck and moving to open Rosie’s door. Whoever thought chivalry was dead needed to spend some time with the Williamses.

Rosie waved to get their attention. “Phillip, will you show Sarah that old chair? It’s down in the barn.”

Phillip arched a brow and held out his elbow. “How about it? Care for a stroll down to the barn?”

“Oh, can I ride a horse while we’re there?” She looped her arm around his and skip-stepped down the driveway.

Phillip looked down at his jeans and boots. He tipped an imaginary hat. “Forgot my Stetson, but I suppose the horses won’t mind. Good thing you’re dressed the part.”

“Why?” she shot back. “You think they’d buck me off if I wore the wrong clothes?”

“Nah.” He fiddled with the sliding door, unlatching a hook before pushing the doors open and stepping into the coolness the barn provided. “They might try to eat that one shirt though. The one with the glitter paint on it.”

She knew the one he was talking about. She’d worn ripped jeans and a bulky sweater the day of the podcast. “It’s watermelon scented paint.”

“Yep.” He opened another door, this one leading into a room full of saddles and bridles. “Up these steps.” He pointed at the corner.

Sarah eyed the steep staircase. “It’s in the loft?”

“Mom moved it out here a few years ago. No idea why.”

She put her foot on the bottom step and tested it. “I remember how this goes. About halfway up the whole thing is going to break.”

“Then you’re definitely not getting on a horse today.” He let out a dramatic sigh. “You figured it out. It was all a ploy to get you into the loft.”

“So you can kidnap me again.” She hurried up the steps and into the loft. The soft aroma of hay greeted her, along with a haze of dust motes that caught the light and glittered like stardust.

He made an “aw shucks” motion and moved deeper into the loft. “Like I said, you figured me out.”

Sarah followed him toward the corner where a tightly wrapped object was tucked away.

He slid a knife from his pocket and sliced through the strings, then yanked the thick material away from the chair.

Sarah felt her mouth pop open. “This is vintage.”

“It’s shredded.” Phillip flapped a piece of upholstery up and down with his hand. “Dad wanted her to throw it away.”

“That’s why she hid it out here. Out of sight and all that.” Sarah grabbed the arms and tried to pull the chair forward.

“Never understood that saying.” Phillip stood behind the chair, put his hip against the back, and pushed.

Sarah fell face first into the upholstery. Dirt clogged her nose and a massive sneeze spewed out.

Phillip gaped at her, his arms crossed over the back of the chair. “Oops.”

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