Page 12 of Coiled Tight

Did I mention it?

Nope.

“Tell me you’re finally having a day off this week.”

I grunted.

Another reason to avoid Saúl? He kept bringing this up.

Technically speaking, I took my days offs because it was illegal not to—every Sunday. Just because I decided to hang around with the animals, people thought I was working? That wasn’t my fault.

“Maybe? I don’t know yet.”

It wasn’t my fault that I had no interest in actually leaving the sanctuary, which was soon turning into a sanctuary for me as well. I understood rest was important and whatever, but if I rested, I had time to think through shit, and check my emails, and confirm the lack of people on social media I could start a conversation with because I’d fucked up everything.

Spending the day checking in on the pretty foxes and the other animals that were okay with giving some love was a much better use of my time, as far as I was concerned.

Saúl grumbled. “I swear I will lock you in if I have to.”

I huffed.

At least he didn’t say he’d drive me to the nearest town himself. I’d heard that from a couple of the ranch hands who didn’t understand why I wasn’t jumping with joy at the ideaof the BBQ they were putting together for me. I didn’t want to sound unappreciative. I just didn’t think it was going to be my thing.

Their threats definitely weren’t.

Saúl’s threat was only slightly better.

“It’s your house,” I quipped with a shrug.

He stared at me for what felt like a minute. It wasn’t that long, obviously. I didn’t know if he was in need of a haircut or if he preferred longer hair, but the locks of dark hair covering his ears were something else to be distracted by.

Ugh.

“Please, take the day off.” He sighed. “The care team loves you, and they will surely blame me if you burn out ahead of time.”

“I don’t burn out,” I protested.

I did, but I kept on going, because the exhaustion was better than staying alone with my thoughts.

Now there was no way I could get away with visiting the animals on Sunday, though. It was a thin tightrope—being playfully contrary and being seen as an insufferable, stubborn, piece of shit.

Too much?

Probably.

“Fine,” I mumbled. “I’ll stay inside and won’t lift a finger.”

Saúl shook his head. I didn’t know if he was fondly exasperated by me, or if he was at his wits’ end. I never learned the difference. “I can give you riding lessons next week if you do.”

I gasped.

I couldn’t help it.

After the first week and seeing how he was on his horse more often than he was on his truck, I’d gotten that bug I used to have all the time when I lived at the farm. Saúl had noticed, and he’d offered to see which of the horses weren’t claimed for and matched with me, but I hadn’t ridden in so long. I didn’t want to accidentally hurt one because I was out of practice and didn’t have the right balance.

“You’re not playing fair.”

He just shrugged and continued eating.