Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 82279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
“Yes, wow.” I look down at it in awe. “It’s really happening.”
“Considering the stables are nearly done, I’d say there’s no doubt about that,” he teases.
I tap the envelope against the palm of my opposite hand. “Thanks for this.”
“Proud of you, sweetheart.”
Now I’m the one cheesing.
“Grab me some apple pie from the B&B, will ya?” he calls out as I walk out.
“Yeah, okay!” I shake my head.
I quickly stop by the rescue to see how the progress with the barn is coming along. We have a little over two weeks before the grand opening. Once I’m out of my truck, I take a quick walk through the barn for some photos. I hold up the envelope in front of the entrance, then snap a picture for Payton.
Kaitlyn: All we need is a frame!
Payton: I’m on it. We’ll have our first rescue before we know it.
Kaitlyn: I’m getting a little nervous! A giddy nervous, though.
Payton: Me too. Feels surreal.
I smile at his message before heading to the B&B. Instead of piling my plate full of carbs, I make a grilled chicken salad with a side of fresh strawberries.
Just as I take my first bite, Maize walks up and stares at me. “What are you doin’?”
“What’s it look like?” I swallow down the lettuce.
“It looks like you’re eatin’ like a rabbit.” She plops down in front of me.
“I’m just tryin’ to stay healthy.”
She meets my gaze. “So how’s the baby-makin’ goin’?”
“Not great.” I take a bite of chicken and angrily chew. “I’m frustrated as fuck.”
“Let me reword that. How’s the sex?” she mocks, stealing a strawberry.
I sigh. “Good. Oh my God. So fuckin’ good. It makes it worth it. I mean yeah, I want a baby, but I can’t say I’m not enjoying myself trying to make one.”
Maize narrows her eyes at me. “But you’re still just friends?” She lifts her fingers and quotes her final words.
“How’re the girls and Mav doin’?” I ask. Between her and Gavin’s busy work schedule, I don’t know how they keep up with three kids.
“Don’t try changing the subject. The kids are rowdy and keeping us busy as usual. Now answer my question.”
“Yes, we’re friends, roommates, and future co-parents.” Sighing, I try to ignore the fact that he called me good girl in the shower yesterday or that I’ve been fantasizing about it every minute since. I cross my legs underneath the table, the movement causing friction between my thighs.
“Whatever you say,” she sing-songs as she goes to the buffet, then returns. “You look like you could use this,” she tells me, sliding a piece of apple pie across the table.
“Oh, my dad wanted a piece. Thanks for the reminder.”
She shakes her head and makes her way back to the kitchen. I quickly finish eating, sneak a bite of the crust and filling, then shove it in a to-go box.
When I return to the training facility, I hand it over to Dad. Five seconds later, he’s complaining in his doorway about it being half-eaten.
“I had to make sure it tasted good and wasn’t poisonous.” I grin.
He narrows his eyes.
Mom walks up. “Oh, let me check too.”
“Just a little.” Dad lifts the top for Mom, who then snags a huge bite and pops it in her mouth.
“Oh yeah, it’s good enough for you, honey.”
Dad slams the lid down. “A buncha pie thieves.”
“What’s yours is mine,” she taunts.
“I’m tempted to ask Maize to make me a whole one,” he says, walking away with his sad half-eaten slice.
Mom walks over and gives me a high five.
“I needed that laugh,” I admit.
“Me too,” she says.
I head to the tack room and grab my riding helmet. Rolling Thunder and I will be practicing walking pirouettes. It’s a turning movement that must be executed flawlessly in dressage. The rhythm of their walk is crucial during competition.
After I have the saddle and bridle on him, we get to work in the arena. My outside worries and fears melt away when I'm training. Only when I’m not riding can I be reminded of what I don’t have.
An hour passes, and I notice Zach running through the arena. I want to scold him to slow down so he doesn’t spook the horse, but it’s too late. Immediately, the agitation and bucking start. Though I’m used to it, I’m still annoyed because I’ve told my little cousin a million times not to do that. But he’s only eleven and tends to forget sometimes.
Once the Arabian settles, I hop off and lead him out so I can remove all of the gear. As soon as we step into the equipment stall, I snap the two lead ropes on the halter to hold him in place.
Zach eagerly follows me like a shadow while talking my ear off. I swear his dad gave him a bucket of sugar to eat for lunch.