Brant
The Graystone Hill stable came into view just as the sun had crept over the horizon. The sight was welcome yet caused a hollow feeling of melancholy in my gut. Real life was upon us—the night of intimacy we’d shared already feeling like a distant dream. Maybe we’d stepped through that portal in the circle of trees after all, and yesterday and last night had only been part of a vivid dream. Or at least that’s how it felt.
We’d woken as the first gray light of dawn filtered in the windows overhead. Belle’s naked body had been curled against mine and for a moment I’d simply lain there, allowing myself to enjoy this last sweet moment with her. But she must have sensed that I was awake because she’d stirred, opening her eyes, and we’d risen, pulled on our clothes sleepily, and gathered our things. Belle was sleepy-eyed and reticent, which I attributed to the early hour. I hoped things wouldn’t be awkward between us, but I felt unusually distracted, off balance. I’d never felt that way after spending the night with a woman. I supposed it was because we’d not only shared our bodies the night before, but Belle, at least, had shared her heart with me. And even though I hadn’t divulged any deeply personal information, it felt as if I’d shared something with her I’d never shared with anyone else.
I’d picked up the key hanging on a silver chain from where I’d set it on the old trunk the night before and handed it to her. Our eyes had met as I’d placed the necklace in her open palm, something flashing between us—the memory of what had happened directly after I’d removed it from around her neck. The places my lips had trailed . . . I’d felt the memory of those moments arcing between us. Pulsing. Her eyes had moved from mine, and she’d continued gathering her belongings.
The ride back to the stable had been slow-going with Starshine being led behind us on a rope, but the rain had stopped, the sun was out, and at least we could see where the horses were stepping, and what areas to lead them around. I looked over my shoulder to make sure Starshine was okay, and considered how I’d surprised myself the night be
fore with how much I’d remembered about this acreage. Even though this farmland stretched for farther than the eye could see, I’d never forgotten each hill and hollow. I hadn’t realized what an integral part of me it was.
I glanced at Belle, at the elegant lines of her profile, the way she held her spine and wondered what it would be like to know a woman like I still knew this land—to know the flash of her eyes just as I still knew the way the sun glinted off the dew-heavy hills. To know the curves and lines of her flesh the way I still knew every hill and valley. To know the specific flavor of each place on her body the way I still knew how sweet the stream water would be on my tongue after a long day riding. At the thought of Belle’s taste, blood rushed south, skin heated. What would it be like if she were mine? If I could stop right now, pull her down from her horse, and kiss away the wariness in her eyes, rid her of that faraway look so she could focus on nothing but my hands on her curves, my lips on her—
Christ. I grimaced, painfully hard now, adjusting myself in my saddle. Dangerous thoughts. And though they filled me with desire, they also filled me with fear. Too strong. Too possessive. Belle glanced over, her eyes widening on whatever was in my expression, but she didn’t question or comment. She looked toward the stable and spurred Mona Lisa on as she patted her on the neck. “Look at that, girl, we made it home.”
Home.
Belle did consider this place home. And after everything she’d told me last night, I was so glad she’d found one. If anyone deserved peace, comfort, belonging, it was this woman.
We dismounted outside the stable and led the horses in. Mick was just arriving and he grinned when he saw us. “Well, thank Jesus,” he said. He clapped me on the back and then pulled Belle into his side, giving her a hug. She smiled sincerely, hugging him back.
“Hi, Mick. I’m sorry about last night. I was a little high-strung.”
He shook his head. “You were worried. We all know how much you love these horses. It was hard to think of one out there alone. I understand.”
Belle let out an uncomfortable-sounding laugh and turned, leading Mona Lisa to one of the stalls, Starshine following her mother.
Mick helped get the horses brushed, checked out, and fed, and we put them in a stall, Belle taking a moment to press her face to Mona Lisa’s neck, whispering words to her that I had a feeling were more for Belle than for her horse, who was happily chomping on her hay.
Just as she turned, a car pulled up outside the open door of the stable, the tires splashing the rain puddles still on the ground. We watched as a man I estimated to be in his late forties got out of his car. He had dark hair with a little bit of gray at the temples and was tall and lean, a man who obviously kept himself in good shape.
Belle sucked in a small, excited-sounding breath and then walked quickly to the open door. The man saw her, and smiled so brightly, my chest squeezed uncomfortably. She let out a happy sound and threw herself into his arms, wrapping her own around his neck.
What the fuck?
He laughed too, squeezing her back. The embrace lasted far too long for my comfort before he let go, stepping back and taking her hands. “You look great, Belle.”
She nodded and I could hear the smile in her voice when she said, “I am good, Hank, though I’m just getting back from rescuing a lost horse, so I’m a bit of a mess.” She laughed, running her hand over her hair that she’d braided haphazardly when we’d woken earlier.
“You’re as beautiful as ever.”
She shook her head slightly. Her back was still to me, but I could just see the humble smile gracing those pretty lips. The lips that had been on me last night.
“It’s great to see you. What are you doing out here so early?”
The man—Hank—ran a hand through his hair. “I’m just checking on some leads for a case and was close enough that I thought I’d stop in on my way and check on you. I remembered you were usually up at sunrise and at the stable.”
She chuckled. “You know me well.”
He did? Well why the hell was that?
Belle looked back and spotted me where I was putting away the things we’d used to groom Mona Lisa and Starshine, but mostly where I was listening in on their conversation. She smiled warmly at me. “Hey Brant, come meet Hank Miller.”
I walked over, giving Hank a smile and an assessing look before shaking his hand. “Hank.”
“Brant.” His look was equally assessing and for a moment we both stood there, sizing each other up.
Belle cleared her throat. “Hank, Brant is Mr. Talbot’s son. Brant, Detective Miller worked on my case. He . . . found me that day. It was because of him that I survived.”