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I ignored her not-so-subtle hint to leave.

Instead, I plopped my ass into a chair in front of her desk and got right to the point. “Did she mentioned that I offered to teach you to ride on Saturday?”

“Yes,” she said in a clipped tone.

“And?” I prompted.

Her gaze finally met mine as she asked, “Why? We don’t like each other and we’re not exactly friends. We’re not even friendly acquaintances.”

I had to admit, the woman had spunk, and she spoke her mind.

I shrugged. “Why not? I have a bunch of horses that need the exercise. And I wouldn’t say that I dislike you. I don’t really know you well enough to make that kind of decision.”

Yeah, that was a dig about her lack of openness, and she knew it.

She glared at me as she answered, “How much do you need to know about a stranger?”

“We’ll always be strangers if we don’t get to know each other.”

“Are you telling me that you’d answer every question I asked you?” she asked in a more curious tone.

“I probably would,” I said noncommittally. It depended on what she wanted to know. “Most of my past is common knowledge. I grew up here, and there aren’t a lot of secrets in a small town.”

“I’m just not like that, and I’m not used to it,” she said in a genuine tone. “I lived in a busier place. Most people weren’t interested in my life.”

I had no doubt that her statement was honest. I hadn’t exactly spilled every detail of my life to strangers when I’d lived in New York.

“I’m interested,” I grumbled.

“Let’s just be honest with each other about your motives for offering to teach me to ride,” she said as she sat back down in her chair. “You want to pry more information out of me and seeing me outside of work provides you with a better atmosphere to do just that.”

Shit!She was on to me.

I hadn’t expected that.

Apparently, she was much more observant than I’d thought.

“Has it ever occurred to you that I just want to spend some time with you because you’re a beautiful, intelligent woman?” I asked before I could stop myself.

That was not my real motive, but she was beautiful, and she was intelligent.

“Seriously?” she said with a snort. “I’m not your type.”

I raised a brow. “What do you think is my type exactly?”

“I’ve heard that you don’t really date. You mostly do hookups with women your age or older who don’t want entanglements.”

Living in a small town had its downsides, and people who gossiped was one of them. Reese had obviously heard about my preferences when it came to women.

I was going to have to convince her that I might want to change my ways. If she thought I was attracted to her, she might relax about me asking her so many questions. Itwouldbe better if she thought I was just interested in her because I liked her.

I couldn’t say that I didn’t realize that she was gorgeous but seriously pursuing her would never happen.

I didn’t do serious relationships.

Especially not with a woman who was a decade younger than me.

“So you’re the kind of woman who wants a husband and kids someday?” I asked cautiously.