Always on My Mind
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But that didn’t mean she couldn’t find a way to help him...
Chapter Thirteen
Lori understood what Grayson wanted her to do. He wanted her to leave him alone. He wanted to pretend that he’d never told her anything about his past. She hadn’t seen him since the previous day when he’d taken her to his log cabin in the storm, wasn’t sure when he’d finally come into the farmhouse to go to bed, or if he’d simply slept somewhere else instead so that he wouldn’t have to talk to her.
But even though she understood what he wanted from her, she just didn’t see how it could be healthy for him to keep all his pain inside for so long. Maybe, she’d been thinking for the past twenty-four hours straight, if he finally let some of it out, then he could start moving forward again. Not necessarily off the farm—she could see how much he truly loved his home here and what he did for a living with the animals and his CSA—but she hadn’t seen him interact with anyone other than herself and Eric.
These should be the best years of Grayson’s life. He should be making the most of them. All the things that didn’t add up—why a gorgeous, thriving man in the prime of his life had chosen to live in the middle of nowhere with only animals for company—made so much more sense now.
But just because it made sense didn’t mean it was right.
Lori was a much better farmhand now than she’d been at first, but she still knew she hadn’t been much help to him so far. Maybe if she could help him with his grief, then coming here would have been worth it.
And she would know she’d done at least one truly worthwhile thing in her life.
Filled with purpose, as soon as she’d finished her most important chores and the sun was just starting to set as a bright red and orange ball falling over the rolling green hills, she went to look for him. It didn’t take her long to find him in the stables.
He didn’t look up when she walked in, but she could see his shoulders tense slightly. It was tempting to turn around and walk out again, to hide from a conversation that she knew wasn’t going to be at all easy. But she owed him this—the chance to finally unburden himself of the weight he’d been carrying around for so long.
Only, she couldn’t quite figure out where to start, so she moved closer to admire the horse he was grooming. “You really do have the most beautiful horses.” He didn’t say anything, but she hadn’t expected him to. Not yet, anyway. “How long have you been riding?”
Of course, instead of answering her simple question, he stayed right where he was behind the horse’s flanks. “Do you need something, Lori? Is the farmhouse on fire? Or have you ‘accidentally’ let a fox into the henhouse?”
His sarcasm stung, but she refused to let him push her away that easily. Not when she guessed that was how he’d dealt with the world ever since his wife died, just by pushing and pushing and pushing until no one dared come close anymore.
Feeling much bolder around his horse since she’d survived the ride the day before, she gently ran her hand down the soft hair on his muzzle and took strength from the big brown eyes staring back at her. Funny, she’d never realized just how much she loved animals until this past week. If only she didn’t travel so much, she would want at least one dog and cat when she went back home.
Although, if she wasn’t going to dance again...
Wait, she hadn’t come into the stable today to work out her own mess of a life. She was here to help Grayson. To get him to see that he could trust her enough to finally open up.
She moved around the side of the horse so that she could see Grayson’s face. “My father died when I was two. He was forty-eight and my mother was left with all eight of us to raise. I would climb into her bed to cuddle with her some nights and her pillow would be all wet and she would just hold me until we both fell asleep.” She could guess without Grayson’s telling her that he hadn’t had anyone to hold after his wife died. Or if he had, he’d turned away from them before they could get too close. “I know how hard it is to lose someone—”
“You don’t know a damn thing about how hard it is!”
His outburst was so loud the previously calm horse spooked and began to rear up. Grayson yanked Lori out of the stall before a hoof could connect with her head.
His expression was so fierce, his grip on her arm so hard, that she had to steel herself not to shrink back from him. He needed her, she knew he did.
Surely it was why he’d worked so hard to keep her at arm’s length.
“I know you must still be in terrible pain over what happened. Have you talked to anyone about your wife? Have you tried to work through any of your grief? Because if you haven’t, then maybe if you talked to me about it, I could help you—”
“Help?” He spit the word out as he released his grip on her so quickly she almost spun into the opposite stall. “Helping is all you’ve been trying to do since you got here. Trying so damned hard.”
“I have been trying, Grayson, and I’ve been doing a pretty good job with everything,” she interjected. “But I think the reason I ended up here, on your farm, wasn’t because I needed to learn to be a farmhand. Maybe—” She forced herself to continue despite the fury on his face. “Maybe I had to come here because you needed me.”
He laughed, but instead of joy, the sound was harsh and brittle, as far from true laughter as anything she’d ever heard.
“All you’ve done since you showed up is ruin things. Break things. Push your way in where you shouldn’t be.” His eyes were black as night, hard as coal. “All you’ve done is go where you’re not wanted.”
Holy crap, he was mean. Even meaner than her ex had been when she’d finally told him what she thought of him and his dancing and his endless career-climbing. Even meaner than he’d been when she’d accidentally let the pig she’d nicknamed Sophie decimate his strawberries.
But when pushed hard enough she could be mean, too, cruel enough to remind him, “You wanted me plenty last night.”
“Then that makes both of us idiots.” His glare was hot enough to spark a fire in the loose hay they were standing on. He raked his eyes down the length of her body and she actually felt dirty by the time he looked back up at her face. “You could take off every scrap of clothes right here, right now, and I wouldn’t be stupid enough to make that mistake again.”
No, damn it, she wouldn’t let another man tell her she wasn’t good enough. She wouldn’t let anyone else chip away at her until her insides curled up into a tight little ball of misery.
Chapter Thirteen
Lori understood what Grayson wanted her to do. He wanted her to leave him alone. He wanted to pretend that he’d never told her anything about his past. She hadn’t seen him since the previous day when he’d taken her to his log cabin in the storm, wasn’t sure when he’d finally come into the farmhouse to go to bed, or if he’d simply slept somewhere else instead so that he wouldn’t have to talk to her.
But even though she understood what he wanted from her, she just didn’t see how it could be healthy for him to keep all his pain inside for so long. Maybe, she’d been thinking for the past twenty-four hours straight, if he finally let some of it out, then he could start moving forward again. Not necessarily off the farm—she could see how much he truly loved his home here and what he did for a living with the animals and his CSA—but she hadn’t seen him interact with anyone other than herself and Eric.
These should be the best years of Grayson’s life. He should be making the most of them. All the things that didn’t add up—why a gorgeous, thriving man in the prime of his life had chosen to live in the middle of nowhere with only animals for company—made so much more sense now.
But just because it made sense didn’t mean it was right.
Lori was a much better farmhand now than she’d been at first, but she still knew she hadn’t been much help to him so far. Maybe if she could help him with his grief, then coming here would have been worth it.
And she would know she’d done at least one truly worthwhile thing in her life.
Filled with purpose, as soon as she’d finished her most important chores and the sun was just starting to set as a bright red and orange ball falling over the rolling green hills, she went to look for him. It didn’t take her long to find him in the stables.
He didn’t look up when she walked in, but she could see his shoulders tense slightly. It was tempting to turn around and walk out again, to hide from a conversation that she knew wasn’t going to be at all easy. But she owed him this—the chance to finally unburden himself of the weight he’d been carrying around for so long.
Only, she couldn’t quite figure out where to start, so she moved closer to admire the horse he was grooming. “You really do have the most beautiful horses.” He didn’t say anything, but she hadn’t expected him to. Not yet, anyway. “How long have you been riding?”
Of course, instead of answering her simple question, he stayed right where he was behind the horse’s flanks. “Do you need something, Lori? Is the farmhouse on fire? Or have you ‘accidentally’ let a fox into the henhouse?”
His sarcasm stung, but she refused to let him push her away that easily. Not when she guessed that was how he’d dealt with the world ever since his wife died, just by pushing and pushing and pushing until no one dared come close anymore.
Feeling much bolder around his horse since she’d survived the ride the day before, she gently ran her hand down the soft hair on his muzzle and took strength from the big brown eyes staring back at her. Funny, she’d never realized just how much she loved animals until this past week. If only she didn’t travel so much, she would want at least one dog and cat when she went back home.
Although, if she wasn’t going to dance again...
Wait, she hadn’t come into the stable today to work out her own mess of a life. She was here to help Grayson. To get him to see that he could trust her enough to finally open up.
She moved around the side of the horse so that she could see Grayson’s face. “My father died when I was two. He was forty-eight and my mother was left with all eight of us to raise. I would climb into her bed to cuddle with her some nights and her pillow would be all wet and she would just hold me until we both fell asleep.” She could guess without Grayson’s telling her that he hadn’t had anyone to hold after his wife died. Or if he had, he’d turned away from them before they could get too close. “I know how hard it is to lose someone—”
“You don’t know a damn thing about how hard it is!”
His outburst was so loud the previously calm horse spooked and began to rear up. Grayson yanked Lori out of the stall before a hoof could connect with her head.
His expression was so fierce, his grip on her arm so hard, that she had to steel herself not to shrink back from him. He needed her, she knew he did.
Surely it was why he’d worked so hard to keep her at arm’s length.
“I know you must still be in terrible pain over what happened. Have you talked to anyone about your wife? Have you tried to work through any of your grief? Because if you haven’t, then maybe if you talked to me about it, I could help you—”
“Help?” He spit the word out as he released his grip on her so quickly she almost spun into the opposite stall. “Helping is all you’ve been trying to do since you got here. Trying so damned hard.”
“I have been trying, Grayson, and I’ve been doing a pretty good job with everything,” she interjected. “But I think the reason I ended up here, on your farm, wasn’t because I needed to learn to be a farmhand. Maybe—” She forced herself to continue despite the fury on his face. “Maybe I had to come here because you needed me.”
He laughed, but instead of joy, the sound was harsh and brittle, as far from true laughter as anything she’d ever heard.
“All you’ve done since you showed up is ruin things. Break things. Push your way in where you shouldn’t be.” His eyes were black as night, hard as coal. “All you’ve done is go where you’re not wanted.”
Holy crap, he was mean. Even meaner than her ex had been when she’d finally told him what she thought of him and his dancing and his endless career-climbing. Even meaner than he’d been when she’d accidentally let the pig she’d nicknamed Sophie decimate his strawberries.
But when pushed hard enough she could be mean, too, cruel enough to remind him, “You wanted me plenty last night.”
“Then that makes both of us idiots.” His glare was hot enough to spark a fire in the loose hay they were standing on. He raked his eyes down the length of her body and she actually felt dirty by the time he looked back up at her face. “You could take off every scrap of clothes right here, right now, and I wouldn’t be stupid enough to make that mistake again.”
No, damn it, she wouldn’t let another man tell her she wasn’t good enough. She wouldn’t let anyone else chip away at her until her insides curled up into a tight little ball of misery.
