Chapter 4
Mornings Suck
“So early,” I complained, trudging into Annabelle’s office in her barn.
“Coffee?” She quickly handed me a paper cup.
“Bless you.” I took in a deep breath of the strong java. “Why do you horse people insist on everything happening at the ass crack of dawn?”
“It was the only time your precious bride-to-be could meet with all the other wedding-related appointments she has going on,” Annie explained while patting me on the head like I was one of her horses. “Remember, I am doing this as a favor.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I batted away her condescending gesture and slouched into a worn chair beside her desk. “I really do appreciate this.”
“I know, and that is why I am doing it.”
Annie stifled a yawn. She commenced with shuffling papers around her desk, and we sat in silence for a few minutes while I watched her work.
“You haven’t mentioned your folks in a while. How’s everything on the home front?” Annabelle asked.
I shrugged. “Bill and Francie are always going to just be Bill and Francie—wishing you were their daughter instead of me and putting Jon on a pedestal.”
She pursed her lips. “They’ll come around.”
I tensed my shoulders. I had no words left to explain away my parents’ dissatisfaction with my life choices.
“Knock, knock,” a gruff voice called out as Trace’s face appeared in the doorway.
Saved by the handsome doorbell.
“Trace?” I jumped to my feet, setting the coffee down and anxiously smoothing out my wrinkled Fleetwood Mac tank top.
“Am I early?” Glancing down at his watch, he took a step farther into the office.
“We just were expecting Misty and Rayford,” I explained, starting to follow Annabelle past him as she walked into the breezeway of the stables.
“Good morning to you too, Sawyer,” he badgered, cocking his head to the side as he trailed behind me.
Annabelle spun on her heels. “You’re not the groom?”
“Brother of the bride, Trace. It’s a pleasure.” He held his hand out to her before continuing, “Misty didn’t tell you I was coming on her behalf?” He fiddled with his suit jacket, seeming to be uncomfortable.
“She has you doing a lot of the wedding stuff, doesn’t she?” I questioned harshly.
I really need to work on my tone.
“I offered. Neither one of them would know a horse from a jackass, so here I am.” He held out his arms playfully with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face.
Trace was looking just as dapper as he had the other morning: three-piece suit, perfectly trimmed beard, expensive shoes, bright smile—not at all the attire I would expect to see in a barn. I was turning to a pile of goo from swooning. He was drop-dead gorgeous and melting my panties on the spot.
“You’re drooling,” Annie muttered to me under her breath before turning to Trace. “This is kind of weird, but oh well. These are my horses. I’m going to be bringing Cletus and Hunter with me on the day of the wedding since they are the same height. It’ll be the best for pictures.”
Annabelle gestured to the two animals respectively as I frantically tried to pull myself together before we walked over to Hunter’s stall.
“Hey Hunter,” I tutted, and the horse happily whinnied as we approached.
Trace patted the steed’s neck while smiling. “He’s beautiful.”
I couldn’t help but notice the subtle glance Trace threw over to me. My skin prickled from my neck to the tops of my ears as I diverted my eyes back to Hunter.