Page 17 of Up in Smoke (The Bunkhouse #3)

“It’s not all that glamorous,” he responds. After crossing an arm over his chest to scratch his shoulder, he turns his upper body toward me with a sly smile. “You think I’m good at what I do?”

I smile and laugh through my nose because no matter what we’re talking about, he always seems to find a way to work in a smirk and an innuendo. “Yes, from what I’ve seen. Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Too late,” he admits. “You should come around more, you know?”

“I’d like to come here more often,” I confess. “I left a heap of work on my kitchen table, but I’m glad I decided to come and learn to ride for a bit. I needed a damn break.”

We slowly pass a stock tank that Tripp leans over to inspect without stopping his horse.

The spring breeze picks up, and I turn my head toward it to let it brush gently over my face along with the sunshine.

I hope this lasts until the sun goes down because I can’t recall the last time I indulged in a slow afternoon of serenity like this.

“You like doing the app stuff?” he asks as we continue our unhurried ride. “You always seem like the amount of work irritates you, and that you’d rather be outside or doing something else.”

“I much prefer being outside. You’re right about that,” I laugh.

“I had a nagging feeling I didn’t belong in my old job teaching at the college, so I started on the app hoping it’d help me move on to something else eventually.

It’s not at all what I planned to do forever.

Thought I was done with it after we sold it and I moved out here. ”

We’ve talked about my complicated career situation once or twice in the last two weeks. At first, it shocked me that he seemed interested. But his questions kept coming the more I told him.

“Then they hit you up for the update,” he states, remembering what I told him.

I sigh and lift a hand to push my long ponytail over my shoulder.

“Yep. It’s unconventional, and most investors push the creators out before the deal is even done.

We made some really special things for the app, though.

I take it as a compliment that they wanted to bring us back to the project when the time came to make more content. ”

“It’s definitely a compliment. But that’s only going to last through the summer, right? What’s next?”

“I’m not sure,” I answer honestly. “I’ve thought about teaching again.

Gardening classes right out of my greenhouse, maybe.

I love educating, especially kids, as long as it’s not in a traditional, stuffy classroom in the middle of a city.

I’m probably missing out on some great opportunities, but I want a slower life than that. Out in the open.”

“Two potatoes and a bottle of milk, as long as you’re happy doing what you’re doing, right?”

“That’s right,” I say, smiling toward the pale blue sky with closed eyes.

My bravery is finally increasing, and I let Bob have full control. It’s a funny name for a horse, but Tripp was right—he’s easygoing. So far.

“No matter what I do, I don’t think I’ll need to worry about surviving on milk and potatoes,” I admit shyly.

Disclosing the fact that my bank account balance includes three commas isn’t exactly natural to bring up.

But I’m still proud of it, and I don’t want to make Tripp think I’m on the struggle bus while panicking over my next job.

“Money isn’t important to me, just so you know.

But I worked my ass off making that app knowing the potential impact it could have. It paid off. Literally.”

“Damn.” Tripp nods with an impressed look. “Congratulations. You must be smart with your money because I think your car and I are the same age.”

“Yes, I am smart with my money,” I admit with a laugh. “Why trap myself with a new car payment when mine runs just fine?”

He smiles. “I’m with you. But if you change your mind on making good financial decisions, I could really use another rich friend to take over bankrolling my parties.”

God , I’ve been giggling every ninety seconds around this guy. Every time I feel the urge to do it again, I wonder if there’s any end to the number of ways he can make me laugh.

“Sugar mama is not in my job description, so I will not be funding your shenanigans. I’ll come to one of your parties, though.”

“Yeah?”

“Sure.” I shrug, trying to play it off. In reality, I was already planning to snag an invitation from Savannah when she mentioned something about the one happening here soon.

Now that we’re in April, the warmer weather has me itching to sit around a bonfire.

“We’re supposed to be friends, remember? Friends go to each other’s parties.”

Tripp’s facial expression changes slightly. Maybe he doesn’t want me there.

“If you come, then you have to lock your keys in my safe. I don’t let my friends drink and drive.”

Sure. And maybe we could play a drinking game, too. Take a shot each time one of us mentions the word friends like we’re trying to remind ourselves of that fact. We’d black out by eleven.

“I can do that,” I agree. “The loft has beds, doesn’t it?”

He nods, pulling a stick of gum from his front pocket and unwrapping it. Regal remains easy in her stride as Tripp loops the reins around the horn of the saddle, pops the gum in his mouth, and stuffs the wrapper back in his pocket.

“I’m going to get this gate.”

I pull on the reins and Bob slows to a full stop.

When Tripp flips the chain and pushes the gate to swing away from him, he turns and leans his back against the fence post with crossed arms. He makes a quick kissing sound and Regal steps through on her own, stopping on the other side to wait for his next command. Without prompting, Bob follows her.

There’s a divot in the ground right in our path—nothing more than a patch of sunken earth. I wasn’t at all prepared for him to leap over it like it was a hole full of snakes. Maybe he always does this and it’s nothing out of the ordinary. Still, I didn’t see the sudden movement coming.

One second, I’m in the saddle. The next, my balance is gone. My arms flail instinctively, too late to grab the horn, and too slow to stop the tilt of my body as the world tilts right along with it.

I yelp—loud and embarrassing—and then I’m falling.

Strong arms catch me midair, grounding me in a sudden, firm grip that sends a jolt straight through my ribs. My face ends up buried somewhere near Tripp’s collarbone, and the scent of his sun-drenched cotton shirt floods my senses before I even fully process what happened.

I want to die. Or laugh. Maybe both.

“Points for style,” Tripp says, voice amused but steady. “You trying to fly or just keep me on my toes?”

My cheeks are on fire, but I force a breath and lift my chin to frown at him. He’s still holding me like it’s no big deal while I’m mortified. And weirdly . . . comforted.

“I was just testing your reflexes,” I mutter, trying to sound breezy. “Congratulations. You passed.”

He grins, all crooked and proud, and god help me , I smile back.

“Good to know.” His eyes flick to mine. “I’m always up for extra credit if you need to test any of my other skills.”

I purse my lips and gently push off his chest. That damn grin widens when he finally sets me down.

With my feet under me again, I brush invisible dirt from my thighs.

The jeans I dug out from the back of my closet for our impromptu ride today are perfectly clean since he caught me before I crashed to the ground, but I pretend to swipe dust anyway.

“I can’t think of any at the moment,” I lie nonchalantly.

“I can.”

His lips roll into his mouth, and we stare at each other for several drawn-out moments. I don’t dare ask him to clarify what he’s talking about. I already know.

I never should have said anything to Blythe and Savannah about not being about to . . . I shake my head to avoid overthinking it more than I already have since he overheard me.

“Are you ever going to let me live that down?”

“Maybe,” he answers with a shrug. “But what kind of man would I be if I let my friend suffer with their problems alone instead of trying to help fix them?”

There’s that word again. Take a shot.

I cock a hip, gather my hands in front of me, and awkwardly cross one foot over the other. “A hard-up one?”

“ Jesus , Mace,” he chuckles. “Maybe I am. I guess we both have a problem that needs fixing.”

My eyes widen and my lips part. Tripp gave me the grace of ignoring this topic since we got home from the baseball game. But apparently, it’s still been on his mind. It most definitely hasn’t been on mine. Especially not when I can’t sleep.

He tilts his head, waiting for my reaction. I don’t want to blurt out something ridiculous, so I stay quiet. Finally, he gives up waiting and casually walks to my horse and fixes the reins.

“I’m just kidding, okay? Forget I mentioned it. Come here.”

Bob cranes his neck and turns his head to pin me with an unbothered look that says are you coming or not?

I follow Tripp’s request and walk to him.

He grips my shoulders and positions me next to the horse, then moves to stand behind me.

The air between his front and my back feels charged, but I work to ignore it.

Tripp takes both of my hands and lifts them to grab onto either end of the saddle.

Even though I’m still new to this, basic instinct guides me to lift my left leg and slip my foot in the stirrup.

He slides his hands down to grip my waist, lifting me to my seat before I have a chance to bounce my right foot off the ground and pull myself up.

“Is Bob going to buck me off again?” I ask.

Tripp looks up at me and rests an arm on the back of my saddle. “Animals are unpredictable. Falling happens and you just have to get used to it.”

I hook a finger under his cap and flick it off so that it lands on the ground with a quiet thud. When he rolls his eyes and bends to pick it up, I place a foot on his shoulder and lightly push.

Damn his strong legs that barely stumble.

“Like that?” I chirp with a grin.

He fixes me with narrowed eyes but pulls his hat on and walks toward Regal. “Exactly like that.”

I laugh, though I’m not sure we’re still talking about riding horses.