Merry Ever After

Whinnie went nose-to-nose with Betty, their usual greeting, before snorting at me to let me know she was ready for dinner.

I fed her, gave her an evening rub down, and with some only minimal bitching and moaning added some more straw to the stall.

“Last thing you need to be doing right now, babe.”

I jumped, then winced at the chorus of ouch that rolled through my body.

Whinnie swung her head toward the man in the door and snorted.

Vonn pushed away from the doorway and approached. He ran one of those big, competent hands down the horse’s velvet nose. “You ride?”

“Only when I have to. She belongs to my daughter, who’s in college. Addison left me a thirty-six-page manual on the care and feeding of Whinnie. A neighborhood kid comes out a few times a week to exercise her.”

Vonn said nothing but gave Whinnie a long stroke down her neck. The horse shivered with delight. I couldn’t blame her.

“Anything else need doing out here?” he asked, those fierce blue eyes landing on me.

I shook my head. “She’s all set for the night.”

He nodded. “I’ll shovel a path out here in the morning.”

“You don’t—”

“Brooke.”

It sounded like a warning.

“Sorry,” I muttered.

He hooked a thumb toward the door. “House. Let’s go.”

We ducked back out into the snow, Betty leading the way and Vonn bringing up the rear.

“What’s that place?” he asked.

I turned and saw he was peering through the dark and the snow at the golden glow.

“That’s the Milton Estate,” I explained. “One of the town founders built it. It’s gorgeous. There’s a pool, an actual rose garden, and this barn the last owner turned into studio space for his wife’s photography business.”

The fanciful stone house and outbuildings sat on three acres of prime real estate like a modern day fairytale come to life.

“Wow,” I said, sniffing the air when we returned to the house. It smelled like my favorite scent: homecooked meal that someone else made.

“N

eeds about half an hour in the oven,” he announced.

“I’ll show you your room, then. So you can get changed and shower…” I trailed off, realizing he would be naked. Mere feet from my bedroom.

“Sure you don’t have a concussion?” he asked, lips quirking.

“Oh, shut up. I’m tired and hungry and sore.” I led the way upstairs, admittedly a little slower than usual. “Guest room is here and the bathroom is right across the hall.”

He stood there holding an impressive amount of luggage, taking in the gallery of family photos I had hanging in the hallway. That assessing gaze came back to me, and I couldn’t ignore the effect it had on my heart beat.

Betty galloped up the stairs and plopped her butt on the floor between us, waiting for one of us to move. But still he watched me.

“Thanks,” Vonn said finally.