"Finn, this is amazing!" she shouted without turning back to him.
*
Leaning back against the hood of his truck, Finn appraised the view. Pretty incredible, and what she was shooting wasn't that bad, either.
It was the prettiest part of the ranch, especially this time of day. The Baylor property and the Pierce property ran side by side straight back toward the mountains, cresting at the top of a hill. Below, a lush forested valley stretched out, and not far out, snow covered mountain peaks broke the skyline. Even when he saw it on a regular basis, the view never failed to impress, especially with the sun sinking down into the Rockies like it was right now.
He watched her work for a while, lowering her camera occasionally to just stare out across the valley, appreciating with the eye what she would capture with her camera. Sometime later, she turned back to him with a wide smile and a high, bright flush staining her cheeks. He hadn't seen her this excited about something in all the time she'd been at the ranch and a tiny kernel of pride rooted itself in his heart that he could make her that happy—even though it wasn't the one big reason she'd come to the Baylor ranch.
"Thank you so much for bringing me up here." She shook her head, and glanced back over her shoulder. "I never would have gotten up here by myself."
"It's no big deal." He shrugged as she crossed the space between them and leaned her hips against the hood like he had, looking out over the landscape from a distance. She shifted, twisting her torso away from him to swing her camera bag up onto the truck and her ponytail swung toward him, flooding his senses with that warm sugared coconut scent that had infiltrated his mind after he'd kissed her that night. There was barely six inches between them, and he could feel a little frisson of energy in that space that made him want to make it disappear.
When she turned back around, she gave him a pointed look that told him it was a big deal to her, but she didn't say anything.
"Look, I'm not very good at this stuff anymore," he began. Her pointed look turned questioning. "Maybe I've never actually been very good at this."
When you married your high school sweetheart, you didn't need to develop much game. Her dark eyes clouded with confusion as she waited for him to continue. Shifting, he rubbed his hand on the back of his neck, wishing he hadn't started down this road.
"I haven't been very nice to you since you got here."
"Maybe not at first," she agreed, and Finn grimaced. "But you took me on as a client, even when you didn't want to. And you offered up your spare room to help a girl out." Her words came quick and almost apologetic, and it wasn't making any of this any easier.
"Minor blips in a mean streak you didn't deserve."
She looked like she wanted to make a return volley but she bit her lower lip instead and the same feelings that had welled up inside of him and burst out in their flurry of a heated kiss rose up again.
"I'd like to take you out, Lily. If you'd let me."
Her eyes widened in surprise, then understanding. "To apologize," she clarified.
"For the reasons people go on dates. And to get to know you better. And as a way of apology."
He'd done all of this wrong, and he wouldn't blame her if she told him to go to hell. He could feel his heart rate just like a stampede of wild horses thundering behind his sternum. She shouldn't say yes, but he hoped she would.
"Okay."
"Dinner tonight, then?" There, it was out there and he couldn't take it back. Anxious for her answer, he stuffed down the nerves already twinging at the idea of taking someone out to a non-platonic dinner for the first time in years.
She raised a brow at him, but a sly smile curled one corner of her lips. "So I don't have the opportunity to think about it and change my mind?"
He laughed out loud, her playful response easing the anxiety eating at his belly. "Exactly."
"Okay," she repeated, turning back to the edge of the pasture. "But you need to give me a little more time to catch this sunset."
—TWENTY-THREE—
"Ten minutes." Finn's voice came through Lily's closed bedroom door along with a knock.
She frowned and turned to the side to survey herself in the mirror over the dresser again. There had been no apparent need for 'date clothes' when she'd left Denver—she hadn't had a need for them in a long while—but now she wished she had something else. The compromise had been her newest pair of jeans with a belt, a white tank top and a blue plaid elbow-length button-down shirt over it. In Denver, this wouldn't have cut it, not by a long shot, but in Three Rivers, it would have to do.
Smoothing her hands over her soft midsection, she twisted her face. She'd never been a slender girl, and after the accident, and not riding, she'd gained a few more pounds she wasn't a hundred percent happy with.
Finn knocked again and she huffed. This was silly. They were living together; he'd seen her in yoga pants and oversized sweaters, and—just this morning—half naked. Anything was going to be an improvement from that. Rearranging her pout into a smile in the mirror, she shook out her hair once more and pulled the door open.
He had walked away, and judging by the direction he'd turned, he was pacing a tight circle, but when he heard the door open, he stopped and lifted his head. A burst of butterflies filled her chest when he was silent for a moment. Had she committed a major fashion faux pas?
Drawing a deep breath, she stepped out into the door frame to stop herself from chickening out and just closing the door, because he had the same look in his eyes she'd seen when he'd caught her photographing the kitchen table, and until Finn Baylor, it had been a long time since anyone had looked at her that way.
"Wow," he finally spoke, sounding like someone had just socked him in the stomach and pushed all the air out of him.
"Good wow, or bad wow?" She shifted, crossing her arms over her midsection as she attempted to defend herself with humor.
"Don't cover yourself up, Lily. You look great." He didn't return the teasing; instead, appreciation read loud and clear.
She felt a flattered blush rise up her cheeks when he paid her the compliment, and uncrossed her arms.
He didn't look half bad himself. It was a variation on his regular daily dress, but somehow didn't look 'regular' to her. Clean dark-wash jeans sat low on his hips, accenting his long, lean body. A navy long sleeved button up shirt was tucked into them with the top two buttons undone, and he held an almost pristine black Stetson by the brim.
This was a man who didn't feel the need for the bright patterns and flashy bling of the rodeo cowboys. And it appealed to her, propelling her two steps forward, out of the doorway and into the hall with him, putting them just about chest to chest. The cabin was small, and the hallway was smaller. She pulled the door shut behind her and stepped out toward the living room to put some breathing room between them.
"So where are we going?"
She might have been imagining it, but the smile he flashed her looked downright playful. "You're just gonna have to wait and see."
Fifteen minutes later found them in his truck, turning left toward the highway instead of right toward town. She'd expected Hinkley's, based on the fact that it was really the only dining establishment in the city. The day was just beginning to get dark, and while some anxiety flip-flopped around in her empty stomach, she wasn't sure if it was because of the highway driving or because of the man sitting a couple feet away, who kept glancing over at her to gauge her reaction to the unfamiliar route. He seemed to be watching for her reaction, relishing the opportunity to surprise her. Cute.
A couple of miles down the highway, he hit his blinker and turned off on a small, unlit exit.
"Finn Baylor, I know I've been a thorn in your side since I showed up, but are you taking me out to the middle of nowhere to get rid of me once and for all?"
The reward for her wit was a deep laugh as he hit his blinker again and they pulled into a dirt parking lot. There were no houses around, but a converted travel trailer sat at the back of the lot
, lit up with outdoor Christmas lights, despite the early season. A couple of picnic tables sat near one end, and a large plastic menu was posted next to a takeout window. He put the truck in park and tossed one of those slow, easy smiles her way again.
Amused by his boyish enthusiasm, she followed his lead and jumped out of the truck. They met again in front of it.
"Best burgers in Colorado. I promise."
"Really?" When they got closer and she could see the menu, she spotted a little note at the bottom of the corrugated plastic that said 'Proudly Serving Baylor Beef'.
"But seriously, still the best burgers," he said, when he saw where her eyes had been drawn.
When she scanned the rest of the menu, she noted everything started as a normal hamburger, but could be dressed up in a variety of ways—all of them with cute little themed names.
"How am I supposed to just pick one of these?" She shook her head, taking note of something tasty-looking called the California Sunrise, rivaled by the New York New York burger. She glanced over to find Finn watching her, just barely containing laughter.
"I recommend The Rancher, but I might be a little biased."
Lily checked the description—a third-pound burger with barbecue sauce, bacon, crispy fried onions and pepper jack cheese.
"If I eat that, I will explode," she said with certainty.
"It delicious, and you won't explode. I promise I'll roll you home."
She waffled for a minute, and then nodded. "Okay."
Finn turned to the older woman waiting in the window. "Yvette, you're looking better than ever."
The woman batted her hand in the air to brush his compliment off. "Enough, Finn. What can I get for yas?"
"We'll have two Ranchers, and…two root beer floats?" He checked with Lily as he ordered the latter, who responded with a nod. When Yvette appeared back in the window with the drinks, he dug in his back pocket and peeled a couple bills out. "Keep the change."
He handed her one of the drinks and nodded toward one of the picnic tables. "It'll be a few minutes, but it's worth the wait."
"Thank you for inviting me out here, Finn," Lily said as she slid her legs into the picnic table opposite where he sat sideways on the bench seat. She guessed he was keeping one eye on the window for Yvette to signal him their food was ready.
"I used to come out here a lot more often…they close up once the weather gets too cold. 'Nother couple of weeks. And I haven't been all summer, so I thought I'd kill two birds with one stone." He smiled at her and she noticed how his eyes crinkled at the edges; a sign of someone who had once smiled a whole hell of a lot more than she saw him smiling now.
"So that's how you're friendly with Yvette?" She twisted her straw in her drink, moving some of the creamy foam into the soda base.
"Well…Baylor beef." He tipped his head down and she blushed.
"Oh, right. Duh."
"But also, in case you missed it, Three Rivers is tiny. We share resources with the other towns around us, and everybody knows everybody. So I knew Yvette before she opened up this little spot. She was my fifth grade teacher."
As if she'd been summoned, Yvette appeared in the window of the trailer and called Finn's name. He flashed Lily a quick smile before he got up, and returned not long after with two paper plates, each containing one of the largest hamburgers she'd ever seen and a mountain of crispy, hand cut French fries that made her mouth water. With a flourish, he set one down in front of her, and then took his seat opposite her again.
"You seriously will have to roll me home."
"Good thing it's on my way," he winked.
*
If he'd been a gambling man, Finn would never have bet his first date in a decade would have gone so well. He wouldn't have put money on her saying yes, either. He'd sent her a million mixed signals, but he hoped she could read this one loud and clear.
Lily seemed to be enjoying herself, and it surprised him a little bit how good a time he was having. He'd always loved Yvette's burgers, and enjoying one while sitting across from a girl who looked as good as Lily did was a hell of a lot better than eating it from a takeout tray at his kitchen table all alone. He and Sunny had frequented Yvette's a lot when they were first married, but he'd only just started coming back last year—always on his own, until now. It felt less itchy than he expected. Dangerously comfortable, even.
"So you've always lived in Three Rivers?" Lily asked, taking her first bite of the burger. Her eyes widened and then she tipped her head back and let out a groan of satisfaction. He couldn't stop his laughter; it was a common reaction. "Ohmigod. Finn. Oh my God."
"Right? And yes, I've always lived here. We're the fourth generation to run the Baylor ranch, and besides the time Noah spent in Denver with Emma, we've all always been here." He picked up a few fries and washed them down with his drink.
Lily leaned forward over her plate, her elbows on the tabletop. "You never wanted to leave?"
He shrugged.
"Hard to want to leave when you have everything you need."
Even as he said the words, he knew they fell short. There had been a time, when Sunny and Gavin were both still alive and the family was free of the grief that had burdened them all, when Finn believed Three Rivers had everything he needed and he'd never need to leave. But in the last couple of years, more than once he'd considered getting in his truck and going somewhere where nobody knew him to start over fresh. He'd never acted on it because of his sense of duty to his family.
"What about you?" he asked, eager to take the focus off of himself. "You've always lived in Denver?"
She shook her head.
"We actually settled in Denver after my dad bailed on us. My mom's family is from there, but we lived all over before that. So we've been in Denver, as a family…" she paused, tipping her head back, her mouth moving as she counted under her breath. "Ten years."
"And you never wanted to leave?"
She shrugged, polishing off the rest of her burger, and then pushed her plate, with half of her fries toward the middle of the table.
"I wouldn't say Denver had everything I needed, but it was comfortable. And I didn't want to leave my mom. She took the divorce pretty hard."
He nodded, but it was hard to imagine those feelings. He'd never considered himself privileged to have parents that had been married for decades, but now that he thought about it, it was obvious.
"What about photography school?"
Lily shook her head. "Self-taught. I'm pretty lucky to have gotten the contract with the Stock Show."
He thought of the focus in her eyes this morning when he'd found her tilting her head at that coffee cup on the table. She obviously had seen something there he'd never in a million years have seen. And the shots she'd taken at the beginning of him working with Encore. She found something in ordinary occurrences that made them special. It was something like 'feel' in horsemanship—you could take lessons your whole life and never develop the sensitivity and good timing required to be a truly excellent horseman—something you were born with, that couldn't be taught.
"All done?" He tipped his head toward her uneaten fries.
"I really could not eat another bite."
"Alright, I'll roll you out of here." He laughed and got up, taking her garbage and depositing it in a nearby trash bin. Waving at Yvette, he ushered Lily toward the truck, holding the passenger door open for her this time.
She paused in the triangle of space between the door and his body, and turned to look at him with a brow raised.
"Just in case you need a push." He winked, and she shook her head with a rueful look, then levered herself into the truck by the running board and the handle by the door frame, without his help.
"See? Didn't need you."
She didn't need him, but maybe she could want him.
—TWENTY-FOUR—
Lily wasn't surprised when they headed straight back to the ranch. He had said dinner, and she wasn't sure there was anything else worth doing in Th
ree Rivers. She was surprised when he pulled on past his cabin and started up the same path he'd taken just this afternoon to take her to the end of the ranch property.
Night had fallen but the sky was clear and bright with a big, round, full moon lighting the path as well as the truck's headlights did. She suspected Finn could have driven this route with his eyes closed, anyways.
This time, when he reached the end of the pasture, he made a wide arc and backed his truck up almost to the fence line, so they were looking back down at the ranch. It was a long way off but she could see the warm yellow glow of lights in the big house. Glancing over at him, she smiled.
"This isn't the view I want you to see, just wait," he promised, and got out of the truck. She got out and mirrored his path on her side of the truck as he walked the length of the box and then lowered the tailgate. "Hang on."
He disappeared back to the cab, and she heard a new country song playing as he turned on the truck's radio. The landscape she'd photographed just hours earlier was transformed. The inky black of night spread out and on the horizon, the spectacular display of stars was interrupted by the jagged peaks of the Rockies. She crossed her arms over her middle to ward off the chill of the evening and took a deep breath, her heart constricted in her chest.
She'd been reasonably certain this afternoon when she'd stood in this same spot that it was the most beautiful thing Colorado had to offer, but he'd gone and proven her wrong. There was no way her camera could have captured the feeling rattling around in her rib cage; wonder and the reality of their smallness in this giant universe layered over how it felt to know Finn Baylor had arranged for this for her.
She heard Finn behind her, and when she turned, he had a plaid blanket folded over his arm and a thermos in his other hand.
"Now I know you've brought me up here to off me," she chuckled as he spread the blanket on the tailgate.
"Trust me, if I wanted to get rid of you, I would have done it long ago." The playful tone in his voice had taken some getting used to, but it was good. She settled onto the tailgate, her legs swinging in the open space beneath her, and he sat beside her, close enough their arms touched, and despite the layers of fabric between them, her blood heated.
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