Page 7 of His Wilde Little (Saddle Up #2)

How could we have just kissed like that and then nothing? In a word, it was a magical kiss. I kept licking my lips for hours after, trying to recall the feeling of them on him again. After a bath and dinner, I went to bed and passed out.

It wasn’t often that I woke even earlier than usual but today was one of them. Maybe it was the work I’d done yesterday with the hay, or maybe it was the mental stress of trying to pick apart what the kiss meant. Either way, I woke up and headed to the kitchen.

This wasn’t a reward bake; this was stress baking dialed up to a solid eight.

In my plain blue onesie with my slip-on and their cushioned soles, I was on a mission to channel all my energy into something fun, and hopefully I could do it without waking the entire house.

Daisy, the loudest walking dog in history was also wake, and she had other ideas as her paws pound with each step.

She followed me around the kitchen as I grabbed flour, eggs, sugar, and scoured the pantry for a vanilla pod.

I liked the fresh stuff the best, especially when it came to my glazes and creams.

“Daisy go lay down,” I grumbled.

She didn’t listen. She never listened. But her big eyes and tongue hanging out of her mouth were far too adorable for me to be mad at her.

“I’ll get you a treat if you go lay down.”

Her breathing grew heavier. Of course, she listened when a treat was mentioned.

Back into the pantry, I grabbed her one of her treat chew bars and traded it with her for her to lay in one of her beds scattered around the house. She chose the one in the kitchen, probably so she could keep an eye on me, but it was better than her ratting me out to my folks.

Cupcakes were one of my go to bakes whenever I wanted something easy, mostly because it wasn’t the cupcake that mattered, it was the buttercreams and all the different things you can throw on top of it. I was obsessed with Cupcake Wars during my teen years. It had left a mark on me, clearly.

I’d been in a trance, baking up a storm, two dozen cupcakes.

I’d whipped up six different buttercreams and a whole mess in the process.

And that’s where I ended up with pride cupcakes, the buttercream made up the six colors of the rainbow pride flag.

I made a seventh as a white, and with a piping bag, I spread thin lines of each color before throwing in the white base.

The result with the correct nozzle created pastel and fading rainbow spiral swirls on top of the cupcakes.

My mom walked in, startled to see me, she gasped, clutching the bathrobe tight around her chest. “It’s early, even for you,” she said. “What are you—” she nodded. “Ok. Well, I’m surprised, but there isn’t an event I’m missing is there?”

“I was just—I needed something to do,” I lied. “Why are you up?”

“The horses are arriving soon,” she said. “Well, they’ve told your dad the afternoon, but they also said the morning too because of the predicted rainfall, they’re worried the road to the ranch might be impassable.”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s only flooded a handful of times, they’re being dramatic.”

She chuckled, throwing her head back slightly as she headed over to the coffee pot in the corner of the kitchen. “It was your dad who suggested they come earlier,” she said. “I tried to tell you last night, but I think you were out for the count.”

“Hmm, probably.”

“Surprised the pot isn’t on already,” she said.

Me too, but when I woke up already wired, I didn’t even think about coffee. “I was sidetracked.” I went back into the pantry, passing her. “Do you know if we still have those golden sugar decorations?”

“Sweetheart, it’s far too early for me to take inventory of your baking stuff right now,” she said, and as I peered out of the doorway, I caught her rubbing her eyes and yawning. “And with the rain, I doubt we’ll get many people visiting this afternoon so we can’t even sell those cupcakes.”

“Who said I wanted you to sell them?”

Her voice strained, the same thing that happened to her voice whenever she was getting annoyed. “You’ve made at least thirty, we’re not going to get through thirty cupcakes.”

“Twenty-four,” I corrected her. “And we’ve also got Lorenzo.

I’m sure he’ll love these.” And that’s when it hit me.

I was doing this for his attention, to give to him, to see his face, to have that knowing look, and hopefully address the elephant growing in spaces we would soon both be occupying together constantly.

“It’s nice that you’re getting alone,” she said. “I just worry you might give him the wrong impression.”

Or maybe it was the right impression. “There they are.” I found the gold and silver container of sugar paper stars. They were great for adding that little extra sprinkle of glitter and pizzazz to a bake.

Once all twenty-four cupcakes were decorated, an overwhelming sweep of tired came over me, but that was swiftly met with the full pot of coffee.

Freshly brewed. It was heaven sent. I took a mug of it to my bedroom and got dressed for the day.

Knowing I would soon be face-to-face with Lorenzo after last night, I wanted to see if there was something there, like maybe a change of mind.

I glanced at my reward chart on the inside closet door.

“We’ll need to add a new one for being good around horses, and definitely two stars for all the work I did yesterday,” I grumbled to myself.

“Maybe remove one for the kiss because it was unprofessional, but I think he initiated it, so maybe don’t remove one. ”

It was still just my mom awake when I was finished getting ready. Layering up in a quilted jacket that was a lifesaver in early fall and even sometimes winter. I headed out for my morning routine with a coffee thermos in one hand and a cupcake in the other.

Walking slowly, I tried looking to see if Lorenzo was coming from the guesthouse, but he was nowhere to be seen. I went by the barn since the goats and alpacas were in there overnight, and especially since there was rain.

The door ajar. Panic set in my stomach. Someone had gotten in during the night.

Maybe it had been left open. Maybe I’d left it open?

It was definitely closed after the evening milking.

I approached slowly, the pit in my stomach becoming heavier, and a shiver down my back almost made me throw the cupcake… or eat it.

“Get back here!” a voice called out, settling my stomach at ease.

From the doorway into the barn, I watched as Lorenzo chased after one of the billies. I knew immediately it was a billy because of the beard, and the way it was running away from him. I could only begin to wonder what he’d been trying to do to it.

With a shoe in the doorjamb, I pulled it open to see Lorenzo, low to the ground as he finally thought he’d caught the goat.

“Good morning, I guess,” I said.

He swiped his hair back under his hat and sighed. “I don’t know how you do it,” he said. “She wouldn’t get on the stool, so I couldn’t do anything, and I remember you saying sometimes they get a little agitated if they aren’t milked regularly, and I just—”

I couldn’t help myself from laughing, and it seemed like all the other goats were laughing too. The alpacas on the other hand were nestled away on the hay; their heads tucked like they were wearing them as scarves. “I’m sorry for laughing,” I said.

“It’s not nice,” he said.

“But you—” I began, biting the end of my tongue. I didn’t want to embarrass him. “You tried to milk one of the billies. One of the guys.”

Whatever smile was on Lorenzo’s face faded and he quickly covered it with his hat, over his entire face. “You’re kidding,” his voice muffled. “I didn’t, did I?”

“Any consolation, some billies can be milked if they’ve got hormonal imbalances, but none the ones we have. And we only have two,” I told him. “Actually, a real consolation is this cupcake.”

Pulling his hat away and planting it firmly on his head, he was blushing. “I thought I was getting a head start on the day, and I just made a darn fool outta myself.”

Presenting the cupcake to him, I needed him to see the detailing that had gone into it. “I’m just glad you didn’t try milking the alpacas. Although, I might’ve paid to see that wrestle match go down.”

“I shouldn’t, but I will,” he said, taking the cupcake. “And I was steering clear of the alpacas, and the cats, wherever they’re hiding. They’re like CCTV, caught one of them in the rafters, just skulking around like I was their prey.”

“In their defense, you are in their home,” I said. “So, what got you up so early?”

“I slept pretty early,” he said, licking the frosting like it was ice cream. “And so, I woke up early, didn’t have much to do, saw a text on my phone from your dad about the horses, so I got up, saw Mary in the stables, and decided to come give the goats a try.”

I wondered if we’d both gotten to sleep early because our brains couldn’t shut off about what had happened between us yesterday in the hay. And I couldn’t ask him, he’d know I was thinking about it; after saying I wouldn’t mention it to anyone—and what he assumed would be mentioning it to him.

“You come alone?” he asked licking the frosting nearly clean off the cupcake.

“I always come out here alone,” I said. “I also brought fresh coffee. I didn’t know if you had that stuff at the house. If you wanted some.”

“That kiss,” he said.

He brought it up.

He was thinking about it.

It wasn’t all in my head. It never was, it was on my lips, and apparently on his too.

“What about it?” I asked.

“I hate the idea that it’s something I’m telling you to keep secret, because that kinda implies there’s something bad about it, and I know there isn’t,” he said, unable to look me in the eye again.

“I respect whoever you tell. It was just a kiss, and I am not in the closet, if that’s what you’re—trying to see, with this.

” And there was the smile, but still not direct eye contact.

“I’m not sure if I told you then, but I don’t have anyone I would tell,” I said.

“Even Diane, I wouldn’t say anything to, because she’s a bit of a gossip.

I’d probably only tell the animals anyway, and unless you’re you, who seems to talk to animals, I’m pretty sure everyone else has a language barrier. ”

He smirked, finally locking eyes with me again, still blushing pink cheeks. “I’m not Doctor Dolittle, I don’t speak to them, it’s just an understanding, and it seems to only be an understanding with horses. I’d say you were more of a Dolittle with how you work with all the other animals.”

“Besides all that, I just want to know why it happened?” I asked.

“The kiss?”

“Yes.”

“You kissed me,” he said, adjusting his stance to stand wider almost.

“No, I think you kissed me. I was laid in the hay.”

“I laid there first.” He stared right at me with frosting on his lower lip, I was beginning to think I’d kissed him first now, because I desperately wanted to do it again. His lip like that, it begged for my lips to touch it.

Gulping slightly and adjusting the hand I held the thermos in, I walked closer to him, my voice growing quieter. “And it looked comfy, which I hear myself say, and I don’t think I’ve ever said that about hay before.”

Lorenzo shook his head. “I’d never make a move first.”

“That poor goat over there seems to think otherwise,” I said. “You’ve traumatized him.”

At the mention of the goat, one of them rammed into him and bleated before skittering off and seemingly laughing.

“If I wanted to kiss you, I would have done,” he said.

“And you did.”

“You’d know all about it if I did,” he said.

“I do,” I said with a chuckle. “Your head went to mine and your lips just mushed themselves against my lips. If you don’t remember it like that, then I don’t know what to tell you.”

The bridge of his nose continued to blush, and I wondered if I was also blushing. My face was quite cold in the early morning fall breeze, so it was mostly numbed.

He stepped closer and placed at my shoulder with one hand caressing the nape of my neck.

“You want to kiss me?” I asked, almost choking the words out of my mouth.

“I want to see something,” he said.

We grew closer to each other and then our lips touched. The sweet foresting from his lips had me desperate to go in for a second kiss, but he’d already pulled away, nodding to himself as if he’d made his mind up, or realized something about the kiss.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t think I went in for the first kiss,” he said. “I just feel like your head moved in more to mine on the first kiss.”

“Try again,” I said. “Because you went in first.”

We kissed three more times after that, only stopping when the cats above us hissed, mainly at him.

It wasn’t common for them to do that, but I reasoned with him that they thought he must’ve been trying to kill me with his mouth, and with the number of kisses we’d exchanged, there was definitely a part of me dying—and it was also the part desperate for him.

“I guess that’s our sign to actually do some work.”

“I thought we were, the work of trying to figure out who initiated this whole thing,” he said.

“And I’d argue that it was you, not only because you joined me in the hay, but because you brought me baked goods on that first day, you wore that enamel pin, and just now, you gave me a cupcake.

That was delicious by the way.” He smacked his lips.

“And I’ll take some of the coffee if you’re offering. ”

My eyes narrowed, desperate for confirmation. How could we go from those light kisses to—to nothing? “Do you like me?”

And he looked away. I’d been accused of moving fast in the past, especially on the apps.

Dating in the country was hard, and now I was a stereotype, finding the first viable option and trying to straddle it into a relationship.

At least I was using horse terminology now.

That had to count for him liking me more.