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TWENTY-NINE

Joey

“Where are we going?” I ask as Damon tugs open the back door of the Lyft.

He doesn’t answer until I’ve slid into the car and he’s plunked into the seat next to me.

“It’s a surprise.”

I blink.

“But you know?—”

“That you hate surprises?” He winks at me, mouth curved into a sexy smile. “Oh, yeah, Red. I know.”

The car pulls away from the curb as I’m sputtering.

He leans close, lips coming to my ear. “But I promise you’ll love this one.”

I spin in my seat, lifting my brows before I settle my hand on his thigh, shifting near so he can hear me when I murmur, “I would have loved staying in my room and having a repeat of last night, considering it’s our day off.”

A nip to my ear. “Liar.”

I shiver. “Ex-excuse me?”

“I said”—a flick of his tongue—“you’re a liar.”

“I’m not lying,” I hiss. “I happen to like very much what we did last night.”

“Oh, of that I’m not in doubt. What you’re lying about is the repeat?—”

“I—”

“Not because you don’t mean it, Red.” He brushes his nose along my jaw. “But because something would undoubtedly come up and you’d find yourself working.”

I grin. “You only say that because you’d find yourself doing the same thing.”

He presses his lips to my forehead. “Maybe.”

“No maybe about it.” I lean my shoulder against his. “Now, what’s this surprise?”

“The surprise”—he shifts, wraps his arm around me and tugs me closer—“is that it’s going to remain a surprise until we get there.” A kiss to the top of my head. “Which, thankfully, won’t take much longer.”

He jerks his chin to the windows, and I frown, realizing that we’ve somehow left the city proper and are in the rolling hills dotted with farms that chase suburbia into the more heavily populated areas.

“Where—”

The driver exits the freeway, turning up into those rolling hills, bright green and dotted with trees, separated into plots with wooden and wire fences.

Frowning, trying to make sense of it all, I mutter, “Taking me off to be murdered then, are you?”

The driver huffs out a laugh, her eyes connecting with mine for a second in the rearview.

“Maybe she’ll tell me where we’re going,” I half-threaten.

“And ruin the surprise?” she says. “Absolutely not.”

Damon laughs and even though I’m frowning on the outside, inside I’m doing the same.

And, anyway, there’s not really a surprise to ruin any longer.

Because we’re turning again, this time onto a narrow track road, waist-high grass on one side, growing up to a giant sign.

A sign that ruins the surprise.

My eyes go wide and my head jerks so fast I nearly give myself whiplash as my gaze connects with Damon’s. “Seriously?”

He nods, mouth curving. “Seriously.”

My reply is hushed, almost reverent. “How did you?—?”

He touches my cheek. “Because I know you.” He leans closer, taps the tip of my nose. “And because I saw the picture in your office, Red.”

“I—” My eyes burn and I hold my breath, blinking rapidly. This is too much. I can’t handle this. I can’t accept it. I can’t?—

“Breathe, Red,” he murmurs, smoothing a hand up and down my arm. “I saw a brochure for this place at the hotel this morning. They happened to have space and…” A shake of his head. “It was kismet.”

I release a trembling breath. “No,” I whisper. “It was you .”

His thumb brushes lightly over my cheek and I only realize he’s wiping a tear away when he orders softly, “Don’t cry.”

“Sweetheart…”

Soft blue eyes. A gentle kiss to my forehead. A…

Sniff from the front seat.

“Sorry,” the driver says as we take a right and pull into a small dirt parking lot. “It’s just good to see that romance is alive and well.”

“Whoever would have thought grumpy, broody Damon Connors would be a romantic at heart?” I tease lightly.

His eyes dance, but he just presses a kiss to my nose before looking forward. “Thanks for the ride,” he tells our driver. “And if you want to come back in three hours, I’ll pay you in cash for a lift back to our hotel.”

She turns in her seat, eyes coming to mine. “I’ll see you then.” A wink at me. “Enjoy the romance.”

Damon pops open the door, holds out a hand for me.

Then we’re in the cool fall air…

And it’s not ten minutes before I’m living one of my dreams.

* * *

“Moo!”

I squeal softly and lean closer, scratching the baby Highland cow—or coo , as our Scottish transplant guide calls them. The adorable fluff ball, my absolute favorite animal on the planet, moos again and shifts so I can get on scratching the spot he really likes—behind his ears.

And I’ve melted.

Or maybe I did from the moment we walked onto the farm and met our guide, hearing the story of how the farm came to be—a drunken bet and a long journey with just five cows…that have now become a herd of thirty.

We brushed the juveniles, dropped hay for the adults, posed in a 4x4 by the prettiest coo in the world (complete with the fancy fashion magazine covers to prove it), and now we’re in a large barn, getting to love on a trio of baby cows, all of whom were rejected by their mothers. Which is the only thing that gave me a blip of sadness—that they weren’t out there with the rest of their herd family—but not for long.

Because we got to enjoy them.

And because they’ll have a nice, peaceful future with plenty of hay and a pasture to graze on when they’re old enough.

“Moo!” his bro exclaims, nudging in for some of my scratching action. And who am I to deny him his loving?

But even as I’m giving cuddles and scratches all around, I’m trying to brace myself.

Because my three hours are almost up.

Because our guide has a life and duties to get back to.

Because our ride is back in the parking lot, waiting to drive us home.

“Maybe I’ll quit my job and start a farm,” I say, only half-joking.

“We could keep the job and get one as a pet,” Damon says, and my heart practically explodes at the gentle way he cuddles the last baby.

“I’m not sure our jobs our conducive with cow raising.”

“Who are you kidding?” His lips twitch. “The guys would love a mascot on the plane.”

I grin, imagining one of these goofballs mooing their way across the country, then I give them all one more scratch and straighten, committing this to memory as I say my goodbyes and then thank our guide.

Damon follows my lead, tipping our guide before we wash up and head for the car.

Before we make it that far, I take his hand, drawing him to a stop.

“You good, Red?” he asks, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear so gently that my heart pulses.

Or maybe it’s just open and raw and vulnerable and… falling hard and fast.

“I need you to know something,” I whisper.

His eyes are serious, but he stops, nods, and waits for me to go on.

“This was the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

He opens his mouth, but I squeeze his fingers, cutting him off.

“And…” I find the courage to finish. “When I’m with you—coos or not—I need you to know that I don’t feel empty.”

His eyes flare.

“I won’t forget today,” I murmur. “And I won’t forget that. And I promise you I’ll find a way to make you feel everything I’m feeling right now.”

Because he deserves that.

Because whether or not he realizes it, his life has been far too empty too.

He starts to shake his head. “I don’t expect?—”

I place my free hand over his mouth, lean in, and know that it’s not really a matter of falling for him. That happened years ago. Today, these last couple of weeks…I’ve already fallen . “I know you don’t expect anything in return, sweetheart.” I drop my hand, lean in, and kiss him with everything I’m feeling. “And that,” I murmur when I lift my head, heart pounding, “is exactly why I’m making you this promise.”

“Red—”

“No more emptiness. Not for either of us.”