Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 94119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
I was an early bird by nature, though never quite this early. But I adored sunrises, so I decided to go outside. I needed fresh air anyway. Another week had passed and we were on our break from the antibody treatment. My mama and daddy were in the parents’ residence, and I was alone.
Throwing a blanket around my shoulders, I opened the doors to the porch outside. It had chairs and a swing and a sweeping view of the horses in the field. Darkness was slowly lifting, and the sun was rising, bringing a golden glow over the ranch. It looked unnatural, like it was some fancy CGI edit on a movie.
I stepped off the porch and headed to the paddock. Ginger, the chestnut gelding I came out here often to fuss, came toward me. He suited his name—he was as vibrant in color as his namesake spice. I ran my hand down his blaze like he preferred and pressed a kiss on his head.
“You’re such a good boy,” I said, and patted his neck.
I listened to Ginger’s breathing, it’s rhythm steady like a meditation. I inhaled and exhaled only to hear, “If I let you kiss my forehead, will I be a good boy too?”
I laughed before I’d even turned around. Around Jesse Taylor, I had laughed more in a week than I had in the past year. I had no idea how he did it, but he definitely made life much more entertaining.
Without turning my head, I patted Ginger and said, “Is the big, bad QB jealous of a horse?”
“Hell yes I am!” he said, and this time, I did turn, only to see him swinging in an egg chair on his suite’s little porch, a red plaid blanket over his legs. He was wearing a long-sleeve black top, and this time, his head was free of a cap. I realized I didn’t have my headscarf on either.
I froze, and anxiety rocketed through me. I was never without my headscarf. It was silly, I knew it was, but it crushed me to be seen without it. My breathing came fast, and I found myself looking down at my hand. I flexed my fingers to be sure they felt like my own.
They did for now.
“Junebug?” Jesse’s voice made me look up and broke me free of my spiral.
I placed my head on my hand on reflex, and Jesse frowned. “I’ll just retrieve my headscarf,” I said, and made a move to go back to my room. I rushed and, in seconds, was back outside, my headscarf firmly in place and my anxiety settled.
Jesse watched me closely, and I could clearly see the question on his face. But he was a gentleman about it and didn’t comment.
I approached where he sat, keeping the blanket around my shoulders for warmth. I was feeling the chill constantly these days. Jesse nodded in the direction of Ginger. “I think he’s been waiting to see if you’d come out.”
“He has?” I asked, looking back at the gelding who was stealing my heart.
“He wasn’t the only one,” Jesse said, and I whipped my attention back to him. My blushes had lessened around him, though the butterflies hadn’t—not even a smidge.
“How long have you been out here?” I asked.
Jesse shrugged. “A coupla hours maybe. Couldn’t sleep.”
“Steroids?”
“Bingo,” he said, pointing at me, then tipping his head to the side. “You?”
I nodded, then stretched, feeling my aching joints.
Jesse shifted over on the egg seat. “Care to join me?”
“Is there room?” I asked.
“Junebug, you weigh as much as a feather, and I’ve lost all the muscle I ever had. I’m practically a walking string bean at this point. We can fit.”
I studied the chair, assessing.
Jesse tapped the space he’d made beside him. “Plus, I’m pretty sure this egg is a double yolker.”
I sputtered out a laugh at that.
Jesse grinned. “Come on, Junebug. I’m cold, and so are you by the look of it. Get warm beside me.”
I shook my head at his cheeky expression but found myself moving toward him. I sat down on the chair, ignoring his look that screamed See? We do fit. Jesse placed his blanket over us both, then used his foot to swing us back and forth. The motion made me feel all cozy and content, but the woodsy, smoky scent of Jesse kept my body wired.
“Are you warm enough?” he asked. His voice had lowered in volume and held a hint of gravel. I had realized that was how he sounded when he was as affected by me as I was him—it was his tell.
“I am,” I said, casting my gaze to the horizon, as the semicircle of the sun began to climb higher into the sky. “This is beautiful,” I said, resting my head back against the egg chair.
I couldn’t get comfortable, and Jesse offered, “You can rest against my shoulder if you’d like.”