Feeling her gaze return to me, I glance her way and meet her eyes. “Do you get outside much now? You seem pretty content to be inside working. In fact, besides my father, I don’t know anyone who’s happier to be working around the clock like you.” I know she means it in a teasing manner, but there’s no missing the slight hurt that flits through her eyes.
“I get outside when I’m heading to the office,” I tease. I can picture my brother in his stuck-up suit, talking on the phone, and paying absolutely no attention to the world around him, while he’s headed to the office in his chauffeured car. For someone who spends all of his time outside or in a barn, that concept is foreign and sad to me.
“You’re funny,” she whispers, a smile playing on her lips. Confusion flits across her face, almost like she doesn’t know what to do with that realization. She’s probably never thought Matthew to be funny. Oh, he used to be a hoot, back when we were younger, but as he aged, he became more focused, more about grades, service organizations that would look good on college applications, and eventually business.
“Tell me more about you. More about your past,” I encourage, leading her to a park bench and taking a seat. Even though I read her bio in the packet of bullshit my brother left me, I feel like it didn’t even scratch the surface of what makes Kyla tick.
“Well, you already know my mother passed away three years ago. My dad told me he’s ready to retire, which makes me happy and sad.”
“Why?” I ask, leaning back against the bench, my focus solely on her.
“Well, I’m glad he’ll finally have some free time to do the things he wants to do, like more traveling and maybe even finding a hobby that doesn’t involve work,” she states, giving me a small smile. “But sad because that company has been a big part of our lives. He built it from the ground up, working his butt off for so many years. I’m sad to see it turned over to someone else when he sells it.”
“There’s no one in the company who wants to buy it?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “No. I don’t think anyone on his executive team could afford it,” she says with a smirk.
“You?” I ask, but she’s already shaking her head no again.
“Heck no. I’ve never been interested in business like that. I enjoyed going there when I was younger, but not so I could learn the ins and outs of the business. I went there to watch him work and spend time with him. Running his business was never my passion, and he’s always known that.”
Extending my legs out, I watch as a wisp of her hair blows in the slight breeze. It makes my fingers itch to hold it in my hand and feel the softness of the strands. “So what is your passion? If you could be doing anything, what would it be?”
Kyla smiles instantly. “I’d do something with animals. I’ve been volunteering at the rescue for several years now, and I’d love to do more. I don’t know what, but something. Maybe start my own rescue that offers discounted spay and neuter options. We get so many strays dropped off that are pregnant. I’d also focus my resources on adopting out those older dogs and cats. The kittens and puppies always go first. Someone looking for a first pet usually goes for something young and cuddly, while the older animals sit until the right person comes along. I’d push for those adoptions more.”
I don’t even realize I’m smiling until she gives me a hesitant grin back and asks, “What?”
“Nothing,” I reply, shaking my head. “It sounds like you’ve already given this some thought.”
She shrugs and turns her attention to the basketball game playing out in front of us. “Maybe. I’ve always said someday I’d own a huge house out in the country somewhere with a barn and tons of room for plenty of animals in need of love to run and play.”
I can tell there’s something more she wants to say, but doesn’t, and I don’t push. Instead, I focus on the fact her dream sounds awfully damn similar to my own. In fact, images of Kyla heading to my barn to feed the horses, a big Labrador retriever trailing behind her, plays through my mind. Considering I’ve known her for a matter of twenty-four hours, that picture is startling. I tell myself it’s just because she painted such a vivid picture and stick with it, ignoring the niggling alarm in the back of my mind calling me a liar.
We end up sitting on that bench for fifteen minutes, both of us lost in our own thoughts, but the crazy part about it is I can’t get over how content I am. Again, with that word. Content.
“So this week is the big renovation, right?”
“Yep,” I reply, recalling one of the three tasks my brother left for me to complete. “Sounds like a big project, but it should be complete by the end of the week.”
“I bet it’ll be nice to have a little personality in the space,” she says, the corner of her lip curling up.
“You mean you don’t approve of the sterile museum vibe?”
Kyla shrugs her delicate shoulders. “Well, I guess it’s nice, but I don’t know. It doesn’t really feel like you. When I met you yes, but as I continue to get to know you, it doesn’t quite feel right.”
A fresh wave of guilt sweeps through my body, rendering me completely speechless. I shift where I sit, trying to ease the tightness in my neck and chest, but it doesn’t help. Instead, it just feels like I’m carrying an extra forty-pound weight on my shoulders.
“Come on, Cowboy,” she says, jumping up, a broad grin on her face.
I follow, a little too quickly, and stand beside
