“What breeds and discipline?”
“They’re quarter horse types, so Western might be a better fit, even though I prefer English. Whatever helps them get adopted, really.”
She slowly nods. “I can get a list for you. There are some trainers in the area I’d stay away from.”
“Thank you so much. We’re new here so I didn’t know anyone to ask, other than the vet.”
“You’ve met Dr. Jacob.” She raises her eyebrows. “He’s easy on the eyes, isn’t he?”
“I guess. I think he’s kind of a grump,” I say, and she laughs.
“Speak of the devil.” Poppy’s perfectly lined lips pull into a smile and I turn, following her gaze to the man who just walked in. Of fucking course.
Jacob Harris.
Chapter Twenty
JACOB
I feel eyes on me the second I step into Silver Cafe. I’m meeting my parents for dinner and, like usual, I’m running late. Looking up, I see Josie fucking Walker standing next to Poppy Randolph. Poppy was the first to scoff at Kim’s natural horsemanship approach and, for a split second, I think I might have to come to Josie’s rescue too. But the two are standing close together, and they’re both smiling. The fuck?
“Why, hello there, Dr. Harris,” Poppy croons, lips curving into a smile. “Pleasure running into you like this.” She laughs, reaching out and putting her hand on my chest. Josie gives her a what the hell look that I silently approve.
“Ms. Rudolph,” the hostess calls, holding up a to-go bag.
“My order is ready,” she says, fingers sliding down my chest as I step back to avoid her touch. “I’m looking forward to seeing you next weekend,” poppy says with a wide smile. I am actually looking forward to next weekend--Just not going with her. Poppy's father contributes a large donation to an animal welfare charity ball every year. There are always a handful of other equine wellness professionals that I very much enjoy conversing with. So much so that I can put up with being Poppy’s plus one for the night. “But hopefully not before that,” she giggles. “Not seeing the vet can be a good thing.”
“Yeah.” I take another step back and Poppy goes to grab her order.
“And I'll be in touch,” she tells Josie. “If you two aren't busy Friday afternoon, stop by.” She flicks her eyes to me and then back to Josie. “I'll be loading up to head out to the show for the weekend, though, but I think you can get a good feel of the barn.”
“We would love that, thanks!” Josie tells her enthusiastically.
They’re friends now? Not that I care—because I don’t. But, dammit, why would someone like Josie hang out with someone like Poppy?
“Hi,” Josie says flatly after Poppy leaves, pulling her arms across her chest. She’s dressed in leggings and a t-shirt, with what looks like dusty handprints on her butt and thighs. Not that I’m looking.
Who am I kidding? My body reacts whenever she’s around, which is really fucking annoying. Just like her optimism. I don’t consider myself a negative person, but I’m realistic.
“Hi,” I say back.
“Three times in one day. She raises her eyebrows. Should I be concerned you're stalking me?”
“You do realize two of the three times we’ve run into each other were because you came to me right?”
“Good point.”
“I take it everything is good with Thor?”
“Yeah,” she says and flicks her eyes to her arm. There’s a nice-sized purple bruise half covered by the sleeve of her black t-shirt.
“Shit, you got kicked?”
She purses her lips, ready to deny it, but then sighs. “Yeah. You know that saying: tell a gelding, ask a stallion, discuss it with a mare—”
“Pray if it’s a pony,” I say at the same time and she smiles, eyes sparkling for the first time since I’ve known her. “Well, I forgot to pray. I think he just got startled since he was eating. I thought it would distract him, but I was obviously mistaken.”
She has the tendency to over-explain everything, I’ve noticed. “You’re okay?”
“Yeah. ‘Tis merely a flesh wound. Well, flesh-bruise?” She wrinkles her nose and shakes her head. “Once he was done eating his grain, he paid attention to me and I was able to take care of him, don’t worry,” she adds pointedly and the glint in her eyes goes away.
“I wasn’t worried,” I retort. “Not about you.” Fuck, that did not come out as I meant it.
“Well then.” She inhales, breasts rising beneath her shirt. She’s either not wearing a bra, or the fabric is thin and it’s so fucking distracting. I usually have more self-control than this.
“I’m glad you’re both all right,” I add, needing to save face. She’s a client, for fuck’s sake. “Are you waiting for a table?”
“No. Just food. You?”
“Table.” I spot my parents and my mom excitedly waves.
“Your parents?” Josie asks.
“Yep.”
“That’s, uh, nice.”
I nod and we stand there, awkwardly staring at each other. There’s no way she’s feeling what I’m feeling, which is the irritating desire to have her body against mine. “Yeah. So, uh, take care now.”