Erin stared before she smirked. “Wow. You are pissed. Is that why you got hammered? Because you’re mad at Miles? Your mom said you got very drunk, and she thinks it is because you didn’t get your gift yet. Maybe Miles forgot. Or he’s met someone, and she doesn’t like the idea of him sending gifts to another woman.”
I stared at her, my mouth gaping. I hadn’t even let myself think about Miles meeting someone. Hell, when would he have time to meet someone while serving in the armed forces? It wasn’t like he could create a profile on Tinder or something, considering he didn’t have time to come home, much less go on a date. I hadn’t actually heard from him for a few months now that I thought about it. Besides his random texts to say he was thinking about me, or telling some stupid joke, it was total silence.
“Okay…I need to address so much after that. First off, excuse me, I didn’t get drunk! And no, that is not why I went out! I’ve been mad at Miles for five years. And I went out because it was my birthday, and oh my gawd, how do you know so much about my life?”
She gave me a look that screamed she was feeling sorry for me. “It’s a small town, Kynslee. I’ll be sure to let your mom know you didn’t go out last night because you were mad at Miles and missing his gift.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Honestly, Erin, you don’t need to do that. I simply went out last night with my friends. There were no motives other than celebrating the end of my twenties and me crossing the threshold of my thirties, finally.”
“And getting drunk.”
“I wasn’t drunk!” I stated. “Besides, it’s really none of my mother’s business. Or yours, for that matter. But you already know that.”
I was livid with my mom for talking about me to Erin.
She gave me that smile that all southern women had perfected by the time they were nine years old. The slight lift of the mouth, tight head nod, and the unspoken words of, Ahh-huh, you just keep telling yourself that, honey. Bless your soul.
“I have the power to get you fired, Erin,” I warned as I pointed to her.
Her smile grew bigger, and she attempted not to laugh. I was positive she lived for getting me worked up.
Without another word, I stomped away from her. All thirty years of me actually stomped.
The moment I walked into the barn, all felt right in the world again. Inhaling deeply, I let the smells of leather, hay, manure, and dirt fill my senses as I took in the large barn.
This was my happy place. The two-story barn had been added onto over the years, torn down and rebuilt when I was fourteen. The barn looked like it had been here on the ranch forever, but it also had a certain elegance that screamed of my parents. Where my grandfather was old-school country, my father was “buy expensive horses, treat them well, and make money on the side breeding and selling them” type of country.
Made out of knotty pine, the outside of the building was stunning. A concrete pad gave way to massive stalls. Twenty in all. The stalls all had the same knotty pine wood on the Dutch doors, with upper black gates that slid open. Brazilian hardwood covered the stalls and had been finished off with a specialty floor added for horses’ comfort. To say they were spoiled was an understatement. My father had wanted lots of natural light, so not only were there a few skylights, but large windows built into the barn. I’d found old wooden shutters at an estate sale when I was nineteen and my father had added them on, giving the windows an old, rustic feel.
The second floor of the barn consisted of two parts. One was the loft where hay was stored. The other half was a sort of play area, if you will. A pool table, small kitchen, and two sets of bunkbeds. It had been a haven for me and my friends growing up, one of our favorite places to hang out when we were in high school. There were plenty of nights I’d slept up there while waiting for a foal to be birthed. Or when I simply needed space and alone time. Of course, it was also where I lost my virginity. And where I had hoped Miles would confess his undying love for me five years ago.
I rolled my eyes at all the years and emotions I’d wasted on him. This would be the year I pushed past that silly dream once and for all. Miles was actually helping me out by forgetting my birthday.
A twenty-by-twenty tack room sat at the end with a small office to the side. I was the only person who used the office. It was where I worked on new marketing strategies when I wasn’t at The Mercantile.