by Ryan, Kaylee
Ten minutes later, I still have no answers and realize that I’m the creeper who’s sitting in the parking lot of an animal shelter. Reaching for the handle, I start to climb out of my SUV, but I freeze when I see her. Her long dark hair is braided and thrown over her shoulder. She’s wearing a tank top with the shelter’s logo, and a pair of tight pants, leggings, a man’s best friend.
I can’t take my eyes off her. She’s leading a horse my way. She turns her head to talk to him, and I see her stumble. My hand jerks open the door, and my legs rush to carry me to her, but it’s too late. She stumbles and falls to the ground. The horse gets spooked and rushes past me. I don’t try and stop it as I rush to her, falling on my knees beside her.
“Emma,” I say with a pant.
“Ow.” Her voice is soft and constricted with pain.
“Hey, let me look at you.”
She lifts her head, and the pain in her eyes twists my gut. “L-Landon?” she asks, confused.
“Yeah.” I swipe her bangs out of her eyes. “You okay?”
“What are you doing here?” She moves to sit up and winces.
“Let me help you.” She doesn’t fight me as I stand and place my hands under her arms and lift her. She tries to step out of my hold and ends up falling into my arms as she cries out in pain. I don’t think, I just swing her into my arms bridal style and carry her to the front door. “Can you turn the knob?” I ask. She’s able to turn the knob, and I kick the door open with my foot. I bypass the receptionist desk and move down the hall. “This your office?” I ask her.
“Yeah.” She nods, her face still scrunched up in pain.
I don’t ask which desk is hers, the bouquet of lilies and roses tells me. I hide my smile, but something inside me lifts knowing that she kept them. Carefully, I set her in the chair. “Let me take a look.” I run my hands down her leg, all toned muscle, and stop when I reach her ankle.
“It’s fine, or it will be. I just landed on it wrong.” She tries to pull her leg out of my hands, but I’m not having it. “You never told me what you’re doing here.”
“I came to see you.”
“Me?” she asks, confused.
“Yeah, it’s been too long since I’ve seen those green eyes.” I’m staring at her, our faces close as I kneel before her. I have the sudden urge to pull her into a kiss.
“Come on, Landon. Why are you here?”
I didn’t know it was the truth until the words left my lips the first time, so I repeat, “To see you.” Gently, my fingers trace over her ankle that’s already starting to swell. “I’m sorry I didn’t get to you in time. I saw you stumble. I tried.”
“Not your fault or your responsibility.”
“Maybe so, but I’m still sorry all the same. Looks like a sprain.”
“Great,” she mutters.
“Are you the only one here?”
She nods, her eyes glassy. “Yes. We had a volunteer scheduled, but they were a no show. CJ’s daycare called, and he’s got pink eye, or so they think. Aubrey left to pick him up and take him to the doctor.”
“Okay. Well, I think if you ice it, keep it elevated, it should be okay. Where can I get some ice?”
“I can manage. You should go.”
Unable to resist, I reach up and cradle her cheek in the palm of my hand. “I’m here, and I’m going to help you.” Her green eyes regard me, and they truly are a unique color, so much so, my breath hitches as she stares at me. Blinking hard, I scan her face, and that’s when I see a soft dusting of freckles on either cheek. I didn’t notice them before, but I like them. They suit her. Makes her more… human, I guess. She’s not like the women I’m used to. Dressed to the nines, more makeup coated on their faces than the department store can carry, and always with a mission: bed a player. Emma is a breath of fresh air, one that I didn’t realize I needed until this very moment.
“Thank you,” she whispers.
“Where can I get some ice?”
“We have a storage cabinet in the bathroom across the hall. There’s a first aid kit. There should be some ice packs in it.”
“Okay. I’ll be right back.” I fight the urge to press my lips to hers or even to taste her freckles. Instead, I stand, give her arm a gentle squeeze, and leave to find the ice packs.
“Here.” I hand her a bottle of water a few moments later that I found in the breakroom. She takes it, and I tear open a small packet of Ibuprofen. “Take these. It will help with the pain and inflammation.” She doesn’t argue as she holds out her hand to accept the pills before tossing them back, drinking half the bottle of water.
“Thank you.”
I nod. Grabbing what I assume is Aubrey’s chair, I roll it over to prop her leg up on and then squeeze the ice pack to activate it. I squish it around in my hands for a couple of minutes, getting it mixed up before placing it on her ankle. She winces but otherwise doesn’t say anything.
“You good here?”
“Yeah, I’ll be fine.”
“Good. Now, tell me what I need to do to get the horse back in the pasture.”
“Shit, I forgot about Buckwheat.”
“Buckwheat? Do all the animals have names?”
“Most of them. I can call Aubrey or Chance when he gets home.”
“No need. I’m here. Just tell me what to do.”
“Landon—” I hear the argument forming in that one word, so I place my finger to her lips to shut her up. Have her lips always been that full, and… kissable?
“I’m helping you. Now tell me what I need to do.”
“He’s a big baby,” she relents. “But if you get some feed in a bucket and give him some time, he’ll come to you.”
“Okay. Where’s the food?”
“Out in the barn. I can show you.” She moves to get up.
“No.” My voice is firm. “You’re staying put. Here.” I hand her my phone. “Call your number on my phone.”
“What?”
“I said call yourself from my phone. That way, you can talk me through it and you won’t be tempted to get up to see what I’m doing. When we’re done, you can delete the call so I don’t have your number.”
“That’s crazy. Why would you want me to delete my number?”
I shrug. “I want to earn it, Em. Now call yourself.” I don’t know what I’m doing. This is the perfect opportunity to get her number, but I meant what I said. I want to earn it. There’s something to be said for having to work for her affection. It’s not something I knew that I wanted or even needed in my life until I saw her fall to the ground. I can’t explain it. I was worried about her. Not just “oh no, I hope she’s okay,” but worried. I don’t understand what’s happening here. I barely know this girl, but she consumes me. One small interaction of banter and her not throwing herself at me apparently is all it takes to have me hooked. Who knew?
I see a slight tremble in her hand as she takes my phone. Her fingers slowly press against the screen as she dials her phone. It’s sitting on her desk, so I grab it, lifting it to my ear. “Emma’s phone.” I grin. To my surprise, she grins back. “I’m going to get Buckwheat. Keep your ass in that chair.” I point to the chair as I speak into her phone, talking to her. I’m staring her down when she shakes her head, and a slow smile crosses her face. It hits me in the gut and has me puffing out my chest at the same time. I did that. I put that smile there, and I can’t wait to do it again.
“Go.” She points toward the door, and I salute her. Her chuckle follows me all the way down the hall.
Outside, I’m not exactly sure what I’m going to be up against. I spot Buckwheat over by the barn. “He’s by the barn,” I tell Emma.
“Good. Horses are smart. He knows where he’s fed, and it’s feeding time.”
“I can do that. How much?”
“He gets one scoop, a chunk of hay, and his water needs filled.”
“Got it.” I reach the horse. “Hey, buddy.” I hold my hand out to let him smell me. “Can horses smell fear?” I ask
Emma.
“Yeah, all animals can. Are you scared, Landon?” Her voice is teasing, and I love it.
“No, but he looks scared.”
“He probably is. Poor baby.”
Buckwheat turns his head, bringing himself closer to me. “Hey, bud. Let’s get you back in the field, okay?” He snorts, and I take that as a yes. Stepping away, I open the gate, hoping he’ll just walk right in. He doesn’t. “Gotta be stubborn, huh? You get that from Emma?” I ask.
“Hey.” She laughs.
“You know it’s true,” I tease. “Okay, so the feed’s in the barn?” I ask, even though she already told me.
“Yes. We keep it in a barrel to keep rodents and other animals out of it. There’s a scoop inside.”
I make my way into the barn, and sure enough, there’s a large blue plastic barrel with a Horse Feed label written on the side. Twisting off the top, the scoop is there just as she said.
“Did you find it?” she asks.
“Yeah, he gets one scoop, right? Heaped or even?”
“What?”
“A heaped scoop or an even scoop. These things make a difference, Emma.”
She laughs again and I love the sound. “Heaped is fine.”
“Noted.” With my heaped scoop in one hand and the cell phone held to my ear with the other, I make my way back outside to Buckwheat. His head rises, and I swear his eyes grow wide when he sees the scoop of feed in my hands. “This is for you, buddy,” I tell him. “Come on.” I hold it out, letting him get a whiff, and he sticks his tongue out, trying to take a bite, but I pull the scoop away. A little of the feed falls from the scoop and to the ground, so he bends to try and devour it. “Come on, Buckwheat, this way.” I hold up the scoop and slowly walk into the field. I’m glad that I left the gate open earlier.
“Is he following you?” Emma asks.
I turn to look over my shoulder. “He’s thinking about it. Where do I feed him?”
“Just on the ground is fine. There’s a bare spot next to the water trough. You see it?”
“Yes.”
“That’s where we usually feed him.”
I dump the scoop of feed onto the ground and hear galloping feet. I turn in time to see Buckwheat come to a halt and begin to eat. “He’s in,” I tell Emma.
“Oh, good.” I can hear the relief in her voice. “Now, some hay.”
“Right.” I make sure the gate is secure, and head back to the barn to return the scoop and make sure the lid is sealed tight on the drum. “The bale of hay lying beside the feed?” I check.
“Yeah, just a chunk.”
“How big is a chunk?”
“I don’t know, about a four-inch piece. He gets grass, but we still like to give him hay because that’s what he’s used to.”
“Okay. And where do I toss this?”
“Next to his food.”
“Easy enough.” I toss the hay over, but Buckwheat doesn’t seem to notice as he’s still hoovering the feed that’s spread out on the ground. I don’t have to ask where the water is as there is a spout that hangs over the trough. I pull the handle and lean against the fence as it fills. “How’s the ankle?” I ask.
“It hurts, but I’ll be fine. I’ll go home and rest it up tonight, and she’ll be good as new.”
“It’s your right foot.”
“Yeah.”
“You can’t drive.”
“Aubrey will come and get me.”
“Or I could take you home. Maybe we can grab some dinner on the way there.”
“Landon, we’ve talked about this.”
“No, you said no to dinner, not a ride home.”
“No.” She says the words, but it’s not with the same conviction as before.
“Come on, Em. You know who I am. It’s not like I’m some mass murderer.”
“That’s comforting,” she says dryly.
“Let me finish up whatever you need doing here. We’ll hit a drive-thru or order pizza, and I’ll take you home. Easy.”
“I’ll need my car.”
“Who says you can drive tomorrow? I have to be at the field at nine. I can swing by and pick you up.” Or I could stay, I think, but keep that thought to myself.
“Aubrey can pick me up.”
I want to argue, but even I know when to stop. Besides, what’s she going to do when I show up at her place in the morning? “What else needs to be done?”
“Just the night check. I need to make sure all the animals have water, and that the cages are secure. Everything else that I had on my list today can wait. The animals are what’s important.”
“You sure?” I ask as I shut off the water, and head back toward the building.
“Yes. If you don’t mind?”
“I told you I didn’t. I’m on my way back inside now.” As bad as I hate to end the call, I lock the screen instead of snooping to get to know her better. Working for her attention has merit, and that smile she gave me earlier… I’m definitely going to work for more of those. I’m not sure what that means, or if I want it to mean anything. For the time being, I’m just going to go with what feels right, and we can figure out the rest as we go.
Chapter 5
Emma 5
Landon ends the call, and I look down at his phone in my hands. He said I could delete the number. My fingers hover over my number, but I can’t do it. I’m curious if he’ll check and if he does, if he’ll use it. I’m not sure that he will. Not after him telling me to remove it, that he wanted me to be the one to give him my number. In a way, me not deleting the call is me giving him my number, right?
“You need anything?” Landon asks from the doorway.
I place his phone on my desk and shake my head. “Thank you for your help, Landon.”
“You’re welcome.” He flashes me his dimples. Surely, he knows the power of those things.
“So, point me where to go next.”
“Down the hall, there are two rooms. We just have cats and dogs, and Buckwheat right now. There’s a utility sink and next to it is a hose that’s hooked up to the water. Just make sure each bowl is full. You shouldn’t have to open the cages.”
“Got it. Anything else?”
“No.”
“I’ll be quick.” He winks and disappears down the hall.
Tilting my head back against the seat, I close my eyes. I can’t believe this is happening. That I fell, and he was the one there to pick up the pieces for me. Why did it have to be him? I know I’m crazy. Any woman would be thrilled to have Landon Barker be at their beck and call, but he’s… too much. Too sexy, too confident, too… everything.
“Hey.” His deep voice pulls me from my thoughts.
Opening my eyes, I see him kneeling next to the chair, a concerned expression on his face. “You okay?”
“Oh, you mean other than the sprained ankle—by the way, thanks for the diagnosis, Doc, and the fact that you have to do my job and take care of me? Sure, I’m just peachy.”
“Come on, Miss Independent. Let’s get you home.” He stands to his full height and begins to remove the ice pack from my ankle.
“Thank you so much for all of your help, but I can call Aubrey. If we could just switch phones,” I say, grabbing his from the desk and handing it to him. I should have already called her, but I haven’t. I don’t want to analyze why that is. I’m just going to blame it on the pain, and maybe it has a little to do with the sexiness of the quarterback who’s been tending to my needs. I mean my ankle.
Mine rings, and he grins as he pulls it out of his pocket and looks at the screen. He turns it to show me, and it’s Aubrey. “See, perfect timing.” I hold my hand out for the phone but instead of handing it to me, he flashes those damn dimples and swipes at the screen.
“Hello.” He pauses. “This is Landon.” He goes on to explain why he has my phone and what happened. “I’m going to grab her some dinner and take her home.” Another pause. “I can pick her up in the morning.”
“Let me talk to her,” I
say loudly, holding my hand out for the phone.
“No, she’s not okay with it.” He laughs. “But I’m doing it anyway.”
“Landon,” I say, my voice stern.
“She wants to talk to you.” He winks as he hands me my phone and takes his, sliding it into his back pocket.
“Hey, Aubs.”
“Sounds like you’ve had an eventful day. How’s the ankle?”
“It’s swollen and hurts to stand. I should be fine resting it tonight.”
“He’s taking you home, huh?”
“I thought maybe—” I don’t say more because I know she knows what I’m getting at.
“Yeah, I would have, but he’s there, and he really wants to help you.”
“What if he’s some psycho killer or something?” I ask, sneaking a look at Landon. He’s leaning against the edge of my desk, legs crossed at the ankles, and arms crossed over his chest. A cocky smirk’s on his face. Like the adult that I am, I stick my tongue out at him, causing him to laugh.
“He’s not.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Chance, is Landon Barker a serial killer?” I hear her ask her husband, and I roll my eyes. I hear him chuckle and say no. “See,” she tells me.
“Fine. Can you pick me up in the morning?”
“You have a ride.”
“Aubreeyy,” I whine.
An evil laugh comes through the line. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Take care of that ankle.” The line goes dead and I’m tempted to toss my phone at Landon’s smug face.
“Do you have what you need?” Landon asks.
I point to my purse and my lunch bag on the corner of my desk. He picks them up and hands them to me. “Ready?” Before I have a chance to answer, he’s bending and lifting me into his arms.
I squeal a little, which causes a low chuckle to come from deep in his chest. “You know, it feels better. I’m sure I can drive.” My attempt to convince him falls on deaf ears.
He continues to push through the door and carry me to his SUV. “Can you open the door?” he asks.
I hesitate as I think about arguing, but I’m sure he’ll just figure out a way to do it on his own. Besides, being this close to him, being in his arms wrapped in all that muscle with his scent surrounding me, it’s doing things to me that it shouldn’t. I don’t want to be attracted to him, but I am. I need distance, so I reach out and pull open the door. He moves it over with his leg and carefully places me in the passenger seat.
