“I’d say very, just to piss you off, but right now I’m in no shape to defend myself so I’ll just let you go on.”
“I see the way you watch that cute bartender. The owner. Jo? Every time you’ve gone in there and I’ve been with you, you track her like you’re on a hunt and she’s the game. So I’m guessing you wouldn’t mind a chance to do a little more hunting.”
No point in mentioning he’d already technically bagged the game. And wasn’t that just a horrible metaphor? “Yeah, well … fine. Whatever.” He jabbed one finger at Red. “But this isn’t about lunch, or hunting. I need to pull my weight. And if you’re not going to let me up on a real horse today, then I’ll run your damn errands.”
“Suits me. Peyton’s got the list at the main house. She’s in her office.”
Trace heard Red chuckling as he left the stables, but he ignored it. He paused to remove his boots at the front door, freezing a moment to see if he could hear Seth. But then, noticing the time, he knew his son would be down for his morning nap.
A quick knock on the office door was all the warning he gave before walking in. “I’m informed by Lover Boy you have some errands for the gimp to run.”
“Yup.” Without looking up, Peyton held up a sheet of paper. “This stuff is piled in a corner of the storage barn. Grab one of those big boxes and fill it up, then run it to the animal shelter. If you make a quick pit stop to the feed store for the things at the bottom of that list, I’d appreciate it.”
The animal shelter? “We’ve got an animal shelter?”
“Morgan started the ball rolling on that little venture about four years ago. Runs mostly on donations. Whenever we’ve got blankets too worn for the horses, we pass them on. They cut them down to puppy-appropriate sizes.” She frowned and keyed a few more figures into her spreadsheet of doom. “And a few other things they ask for from time to time.”
“Got it.” Easy enough. And just like Morgan to see a need and go filling it. He’d guess the place never lacked for donations. People loved the Brownings, and they adored Morgan. Always had. Now that he was a respected vet, and likely worked for every family in the surrounding area, he must have a whole host of donors.
He was still reading the list as he slipped his boots back on. Otherwise, he would have seen the danger he stepped into.
“Trace!”
Bea hustled up the front steps, her heels clattering noisily over the old wood. “You heading into town? I’m dying to get out of here for a while.”
Aw, shit. “I’ve just got two quick errands and that’s it. It’s not a shopping trip.”
“Where are you going?”
“Animal shelter.” That’d shut her up.
Instead, to his shock, her eyes lit with excitement. “Oh, puppies!” She grabbed a bag hanging from the nearby hook and shooed him. “Go. Let’s go. The dogs await.”
“I thought you hated animals.”
“Puppies are not animals,” she said, staring at him like he was an idiot. “Puppies are adorable little balls of fluff that melt into you. Plus, it can’t hurt to play with them for a while, can it? They’re all caged up in there like fuzzy puppy jail. And now I have that awful, sad Sarah McLachlan song stuck in my head.”
His own head was starting to hurt. “I’m just dropping off a donation, Bea.”
“I’m sure you wouldn’t mind some help, would you?”
He watched as she struggled over the dirt path in her heels. The white of her capri pants was already turning dusty. “It’s old blankets and junk. You wanna carry an old blanket?”
“The puppies need blankets? I’ll carry a blanket.”
He shoved open the large sliding metal door leading to the storage. “You asked for it.”
Jo’s heart added an extra beat into its rhythm when the door opened and Trace walked in. She wasn’t used to seeing him in the daylight, but the sight added another memory to her store. His jaw was freshly shaven, and his dangerously good looks were … not downgraded exactly. He was still sinfully handsome. But the edge of illicitness was gone. More boy next door, less dangerous to make out in a dark corner.
She smiled, doing her best to mask the jolt she felt at the sight of him. “Hey, stranger.”
“Hey back.” He settled down at the bar and looked her over. “You look good.”
“Ditto.” She tossed a coaster in front of him. “Drink, lunch or both?”
“Water, and I’ll be ordering lunch in a second. I’m just waiting for …” He trailed off and glanced at the door as it opened again. “That.”