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Matt smacks Caleb in the chest. “Are you saying you were, in fact, cleared for all styles of riding? Because that’s what you’ve been inferring.”

Caleb closes his mouth as he stares at my youngest brother whose face goes through about ten different emotions before he lets loose.

“What the fuck are you trying to do? Do you want to go back to the hospital for another month? I was there with you, and I’m not going to let you do something bone-headed just because you’re bored or think you have something to prove to the cowboys traveling with the rodeo,” Matt fumes.

“And what, I wasn’t there? I was the one in the goddamn bed, hooked up to monitors, getting my ass wiped by nurses while in a neck brace and two casts.”

This is definitely not something I want to get in the middle of. These two have been friends for a long time, but we were all surprised that Caleb’s one person who could come to the hospital was Matt. Not even his agent had access to him. I mean, this whole thing has to still be hard on him. He’s made a small fortune in the rodeo circuit and we’re six months out from his last ride, and he still can’t let loose like he seems to be born to do.

I walk back to the desk and I hear Matt’s voice soften. Turning up the speakers, I drown out their conversation and return to the one on my phone.

Tommy: Sorry, apparently the new mare wasn’t keen on the idea of someone riding her today and people are coming in hot for lunch. I know we just went for wings, but what if we did Maybel’s? Their Thursday evening chef always has something new to try and last week it was an Italian beef dish. You game?

Sam: Oh my, is everyone okay?

I can imagine her confused face at the thought that a horse might not be ready to have a person hop on its back, let alone the time it takes for them to be comfortable with a saddle. She’s typing immediately.

Sam: Maybel’s sounds great. I should be done well before 2 for the next while until Hank can present the justification for more tasks for my position, so I’ll have more time for co-op and dinners.

Sam: I mean, if you want to have dinner again.

The dots pop up and go way over and over while I type my reply. I can practically see the blush on her face as she tries to backpedal assuming there will be more dates.

Tommy: I think just bruised egos over here.

Tommy: Perfect. How about a matinee before dinner since you’re off early? I can sneak out. I happen to have an in with the guy who runs the office at Landen Acres.

Sam: Oh good, I’m glad there’s no lasting damage. How long does it take to be able to ride a horse?

Sam: A matinee before dinner sounds perfect. You pick the show and tell me what time.

Tommy: I promise to not pick anything that I know will make you jump.

Tommy: You should come out sometime in the afternoon after you’re done and see the horses we have. Maybe Friday?

Wow, that was smooth. If Chuck were reading over my shoulder he’d smack me upside the back of the head for being desperate. But I suppose I am. I’m desperate to be around her. Desperate to hold her again. Desperate to breathe in that floral perfume and have it linger on my clothes.

Desperate to kiss her.

Chapter 15: Sam

Butterflies explode in my stomach.

Friday?

I get to see Tommy tonight for the subcommittee meeting, one that he recently joined for reasons I won’t allow myself to examine. Tomorrow for a real date. I re-read the text just to make sure it wasn’t in my head. Nope, not in my head.

Tomorrow, I have an actual date with Tommy. Math-loving, horse-riding, cowboy-hat-wearing, thoughtful Tommy Landen. The man who held my hand and tucked me against him for an entire rom-com. The one who tells me not to hide. The one who knew I’d want to write my ideas down right before his annual wing-eating-contest.

The one who sees me.

Sam: Friday it is. Will we be outside or inside? I’m not riding that mare, am I? Am I riding any horse? I’ve never done that…

Tommy: We’ll be calling you a cowgirl before you know it. But no, you won’t be riding the new mare…not even Caleb managed getting close enough today.

A sense of relief washes over me. Logically, I know that no one would ever put a novice on a mare an award-winning rider couldn't mount today. But I don’t know the etiquette around horses. There seem to be rules, but you can’t shake a horse’s hoof. Well, I suppose you can. But not the way you would with a person.

Sam: Thanks for not throwing me into the deep end.