What he said was benign, but the look contained in his gaze set butterflies alight in my belly and my pulse racing as heat spun through me.
“They’re curious. Don’t worry, they’re not hungry. I fed them before you picked me up.”
“Do they stay in the pasture all night?”
I shook my head. “I need to put them in their stalls. Want to help?”
“Of course.” He tucked the spare helmet into the compartment under the seat and set his on top of the seat before falling into step beside me.
My senses were heightened, attuned to the frequency of Diego’s presence. The sound of our footsteps on the gravel was broken by an owl calling in the trees nearby. When the horses saw me heading toward the barn with Diego, they trotted over to meet us there.
Stepping through the large sliding door into the barn, the soothing scents struck me—hay, horses, and an underlying hint of leather. These were the smells of my childhood when I rode horses. My mother had ridden horses, and we had neighbors who had a farm where we rode nearby. It was a calming spot in my childhood where it always felt like I was scrambling to catch up to the brilliance of my parents and my brother.
Dyslexia was a common learning disability, but it was still confusing when nobody knew what was going on. Sadly, my parents’ high expectations for my brilliance had interfered with the school figuring out the issue sooner. Once doubt seeps into your soul, it lingers, like mold that you can’t get out of a room sometimes. I’d largely come to peace with that. I knew my parents loved me, but what happened had shaped my childhood. School is such a big part of childhood that when it’s not going well and you’re struggling, it could turn into a bundle of uncertainty and insecurity. Horses and softball were what I’d loved during those years, and only one of those loves remained unscathed.
Diego glanced around. “Nice barn.”
It was a small barn and well-maintained. There were four stalls with an aisle in between. Crossing to the other end of the barn, I opened the door to the small paddock. My elderly buddy, Shasta, walked slowly into the barn, lifting his nose to nudge me in the shoulder.
“Hey, sweetie,” I said, scratching him on the forehead. He turned his attention to Diego, curiously sniffing him and nibbling lightly on his shoulder as he passed by.
“I think that’s his version of a kiss,” I said with a laugh.
Diego didn’t seem bothered in the slightest, instantly endearing himself to me. He laughed as he greeted Shasta. Shasta had once been a speckled horse, as I knew from the photographs in the house, but he was almost all white now. He enjoyed being brushed, so I groomed him daily and took care of his mane and tail, which he flicked affectionately when he passed by. Shasta knew the routine well and walked into his stall, the closest one by the door to the paddock.
Charlie came trotting through, stopping quickly to greet Diego and appearing to recognize him. “I think he knows he’s seen me before,” Diego said with a chuckle.
“Probably. It was memorable, what with the motorcycle and all.”
After Charlie went into his stall, the other two horses followed. One was a dark bay with a star on his forehead, owned by a woman who lived down the road and came by fairly regularly. The other was a chestnut with a wide white blaze on his face. He was also owned by a neighbor nearby, although his owner didn’t stop by as often.
Once all the horses were in their stalls, Diego followed my lead without me needing to explain it, closing and latching their stall doors. We fetched some hay, and he helped me toss it into their stalls.
As we walked out, my belly shimmied with nervous anticipation. I wanted to invite him inside, but I couldn’t remember the last time I had invited anyone into a place where I lived.
Apparently, my mouth was ahead of my brain, and my question tumbled out. “Would you like to come in?”
“Of course. Don’t you remember? You promised me the perfect brownie.”
“Oh, right. Did I say the brownies were perfect?”
“Maybe not exactly, but that’s why we passed on dessert. Now, if you’ve changed your mind, I won’t insist.”
When I glanced sideways and saw his teasing smile, my belly did a few flips and butterflies spun like mad. “Oh, I insist,” I managed, feeling my cheeks heat.
The place I was renting was a small, ranch-style home. We went in through the front door, which was in the center of the rectangular-shaped structure and had a small curved porch. It opened into the living room. To one side was an archway that led into the kitchen and dining room area, and the other archway on the other end led into a hallway with three bedrooms and a bathroom. Like everywhere in Alaska, or so it seemed, the house had a view through the trees with a glimpse of the mountains to the side.
Diego glanced around. “Nice place.”
“I love it,” I said. “It came furnished and everything.”
I kicked off my shoes by the door, and he followed suit. “Follow me.” I gestured as I began to cross through the archway to the kitchen. “I’ll get that brownie for you.”
Chocolate was one of my favorite things, and I made incredible brownies, if I did say so myself. They were decadent with melted dark chocolate in the center. Heated, with vanilla ice cream, it was about the best simple dessert in the universe as far as I was concerned.
Diego followed me in, taking in the kitchen. It had counters lining three walls with a small oval table by the windows in what served as a casual dining area.
“Have a seat,” I called over my shoulder. “Do you want anything to drink with dessert?”
“Just water will do.”
I quickly sliced two brownies and heated them in the microwave. Only moments later, I was sitting across from Diego, watching as he took a bite and let out a rough moan. The sound vibrated through me. It seemed everything he did spoke to my hormones. They sent up a little cheer of approval.
“Damn. That’s fucking amazing,” he said flatly. “It really is the best brownie I’ve ever had.”
I didn’t know why I was blushing over brownies, but here I was.
“I’m glad to hear it. I’m sure Delia has desserts just as good as this. Everything else there is five-star quality.”
Diego took another bite. “Agreed that everything she makes is excellent, but I’m not sure she can beat this brownie. With the ice cream, it might be the food version of God.”
I laughed and took a bite.
“So, what did you think of the plane ride?” he asked a few moments later after he set his spoon down and pushed his empty bowl away.
“It was awesome. I’ve never been in a small plane like that. I kind of can’t believe that’s your job.”
He grinned. “Sometimes I can’t believe it either. I’ve been flying for years. That’s why I went into the Air Force. I wanted to fly planes. I didn’t know I’d luck into a job like this after I got out of the military.”
“I bet you guys love it.”
“We do. I have a job I love, and I get to work with people who are family to me. Can’t really beat it. I’m a happy man.”
A fierce sense of longing pierced me. That feeling, what he described, was what I wanted—feeling like I had my place in the world and I had my own little tribe. That was something I felt like I’d been searching for forever.