by Erica Penrod
Tayla was inspired by Waylon’s reaction to Promise. He’d experienced deep pain and sorrow in his life, something Promise recognized and obviously brought to the surface. She’d have to collect more information, but horse therapy might be another tool for her to use at Prevail.
Mallory continued the tour, and Waylon asked dozens of questions. He seemed as interested and as fascinated with the place as Tayla was. Time passed quickly, and as they climbed aboard the helicopter to fly back to Seattle, Tayla knew horse therapy needed to be part of the program at Prevail. No matter how much more time she spent with Waylon, she wouldn’t be any surer than she was at this moment—she was crazy about the man.
* * *
“Thank you.” Waylon reached across the seats and took Tayla’s hand. “That was incredible.” They had to be 8000 feet in the air, yet with her hand in his, he’d never felt more grounded, more committed to continue rebuilding his life. “I had no idea the effect those horses would have on me.”
A cowboy didn’t cry, especially not in front of a woman he was trying to impress, but when Promise had tilted her head into his hand, he’d lost it. Emotions he didn’t like to face, like grief and sadness, had taken hold of him. In that moment, he’d understood what the horse was trying to remind him: Waylon was strong enough to grieve the loss of his parents and all the years he’d wasted without turning to drugs to numb the pain.
“I’ve never seen horses who’ve been abused or neglected before.” He took a deep breath as his eyes welled. “I’m glad there are sanctuaries out there like Mended Soul Ranch.”
“I know.” She squeezed his hand. “I absolutely fell in love with the place.”
He kept his hand clasped on hers as he looked into her eyes; Mended Soul Ranch might not be the only thing he’d fallen in love with today. “Me too,” he said softly.
* * *
Tayla’s hands shook, so she tucked them in her jacket pockets after she’d pulled into the parking lot and parked at Waylon’s apartment complex. Today hadn’t gone as planned. Watching Waylon interact with the horses this afternoon only made her want him more. Mended Soul Ranch was supposed to be a platonic field trip, a chance to discover who Waylon West was and to support his recovery in any way she could, not make her long to hold him close and kiss away the sadness she’d witnessed between Waylon and Promise.
“Thank you so much for today.” Waylon pulled a set of keys from his pocket. Bugs danced beneath the streetlights, keeping in time to the scattered beating of her heart. “That place really got to me.” His eyes grew heavy with emotion, and Tayla worried the sanctuary had been too much for him. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been that inspired.” A smile tugged on the corner of his lips. “I mean …” He shook his head softly. “If those horses can overcome what they’ve been through and then help others, why can’t I do that?” He shrugged his shoulders.
Tayla grasped the lining in her pockets to keep from reaching out to him. “You do that already.” She bit her lip. “Every time you attend a meeting, other addicts gather strength from your story every time you share.” Tayla gazed into his eyes, unaware her body angled towards him. She studied his face, his humble smile and the fear still lingering in his eyes, but most of all, she saw courage. Courage wasn’t the absence of fear, but the faith and dedication it took to rise above his addiction. Her arms fought to hold him, and her lips trembled to kiss him, if only to reassure him.
Waylon nodded. “Yeah, I get that from the others in the group.” His gaze drifted and then came back. “But Mended Soul just made me think about doing more, being more so that I can help others.” He leaned over and kissed her forehead. “Thank you for that.”
She nodded, the words trapped beneath the swell of emotion in her throat. Tayla couldn’t move, couldn’t tear herself away from this man, and she was grateful when he put his hand on the handle and opened the door. “Thanks again, Tayla.” He smiled and closed the door.
Tayla exhaled, pulled her hands from her pockets, and put them on her chest, trying to contain her runaway heart as she watched him walk away. She quickly hit the lock button—afraid she might run after him.
* * *
Waylon paused at his door, thinking about Tayla and the experience she’d just shared with him. To him, the day had been almost spiritual, an affirmation that God existed and loved every creature, giving them the capacity to heal, forgive, and move on. Tayla had captivated him with the questions she’d asked Mallory and her compassion for the horses, yet Waylon didn’t know what Tayla saw when she looked at him. Perhaps he was like an injured horse to her and she pitied him, something he wasn’t sure he could live with. Waylon wanted her to see a man willing to accept a past he could not change, using his mistakes to construct a future he could be proud of, a future he might want to share with her.
Ten
“I’m sorry.” Tayla blew out a breath. “I’m just a little excited.” After she’d dropped Waylon off at his apartment, she’d called Saige.
“I can tell, but which part are you more excited about? Horse therapy or Waylon?”
“Both.” She kicked her shoes to the floor and crashed on the bed beside Charlie. Waylon came to mind, so she got up, picked up her shoes, and set them neatly in the closet. “Waylon, actually. He’s the main reason I was so impressed with the place. You should’ve seen his reaction to the horse.” The words caught in her throat. “The horse drew out his emotions, but in a positive way.”
“That does sound cool. I hoped you would like it.”
Tayla resumed her spot next to Charlie.
“Hold on a second.” Saige paused and mumbled something. “Sorry, Mark wants me to hurry because he’s got the episode on pause.”
“Oh, alright. We can talk tomorrow.” Sometimes friends’ husbands were so annoying. Tayla smiled to herself, knowing how happy Saige and Mark were together.
Saige laughed. “Alright, but Tay?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t push him away now.” Saige’s voice reflected a somber tone.
Tayla brushed her bangs to the side. “I won’t.” Irritation gnawed at her happy mood.
“I can hear it in your voice. You like Waylon.”
“I do like him. I never said I didn’t.” Tayla shouldn’t be aggravated by Saige watching out for her, and the truth was, Saige was right. After the euphoria wore off, Tayla would dissect the events and pick out all the reasons she shouldn’t let herself care about Waylon as more than a friend.
“It’s more than that.”
“I know.” She rubbed her forehead, trying to erase the tension beginning to furrow her brow. “But it’s too early to freak out. It was only one date, which technically wasn’t a date.”
The doorbell rang, and Charlie barked. “I gotta go. Someone’s at the door.” Tayla ended the call, pulled up the front porch camera on her phone, and squealed. Waylon was at her door.
* * *
Waylon stood at Tayla’s front door, rehearsing what he’d planned to say on the ride over. In his head, this scene played out like a grand gesture in one of those romantic comedies Gemma made him and Jamon watch. But here, slightly damp beneath a front porch light, he wondered if Tayla would see his surprise visit that way.
The door opened, and he straightened his shoulders. Tayla greeted him with her pup. “Hi.” She tilted her head as a notch appeared between her brows.
“Hey. I brought you these.” He held out a bouquet of flowers and a box of dog biscuits. “I know it’s late, but I just wanted to say thank you for today. It was a unique experience, and I’m grateful.”
An easy smile spread across her lips, and her brow softened. Tayla’s arms were full of flowers, treats, and Charlie. “You’re welcome, and thank you.” She sniffed the roses, and Charlie wriggled.
“Here, let me help you.” He reached for the pup.
“Thanks. Would you like to come in?”
“Actually, I wondered if you wanted to go for a walk. It’s a beautiful night, a
nd it’s stopped raining.” Waylon adjusted Charlie against his chest. “I’m sure Charlie would like to go.”
Tayla narrowed her eyes as if she might discover his motive if she looked close enough. “Is it cold?” She peered out behind him.
“It’s a little chilly, but not bad.”
“Okay. Come in, and I’ll grab my coat and Charlie’s leash.”
She held the door as he walked by. Her citrus and sweet floral scent intoxicated him. Goose bumps freckled his skin, his stomach swayed, and Waylon worried he’d taken on too much in one day. A man could only be so strong. Grateful for the pup keeping his hands full, he resisted the urge to push her up against the door and give her a proper thank-you kiss.
“I’ll just be a minute.”
Waylon waited in the entryway of the mansion, refusing to let the crown molding and crystal chandeliers sway his feelings about Tayla. A moment later, she appeared, wearing the same outfit she had on earlier, but she’d traded the boots for sneakers and added a beanie to her head. He ignored the desire coursing through his veins. “Ready?” The word sounded like he was a pubescent teenager.
“Yeah.” She walked over and attached Charlie’s leash. “Let’s go.” They reached the connecting sidewalk that ran through the entire neighborhood. “This place is beautiful. I’m so glad Saige found it for me.” Tayla looked around.
Waylon, too, admired The Cove’s landscaped sidewalks and flower beds coinciding with the countryside—a beautiful illustration of God and man working together. Waylon had Charlie’s leash; Charlie was busy sniffing every surface.
They paused as the pup did his business in the bush. “Don’t worry, I brought the baggies.” She pulled a collection of little blue bags from her pocket and laughed.
Waylon shook his head. “This Texas farm boy has a lot to get used to in the big city.”
Tayla grinned. “I know. My dad would’ve never followed a dog around with a baggie.”
Charlie took off again, and they followed. The moon, shadowed by clouds, gave off enough light for him to see her face. Her milky complexion set off her raspberry lips, and stars sparkled in her eyes—not the stars from the sky, but tiny bright lights that were all her own. He swallowed the lump in his throat and stopped.
“Again?” Tayla paused. “How many times does a dog need to go?”
“No.” Waylon turned to her. “I stopped.”
“Oh.” She looked up at him.
“I came over because I needed to talk to you.”
“Okay?” She bit her lip.
“You know I’m an addict and I’m working hard to stay clean.”
She nodded.
“And a relationship is probably not the best thing for me right now.” He searched her eyes. “But I don’t want to walk away from you.” Waylon drew in a breath. “I’ve been running from things my whole life.”
Tayla stepped back, and his heart sank. She stared at the ground and then up at him. “I’m not sure what to say.”
“All I want to know is that I’m not crazy, and you feel this thing, whatever it is, between us too.”
She didn’t speak, and Waylon was sure she was ready to scoop up Charlie and make her escape. “I guess we’re both crazy.” Her voice was almost a whisper. “I feel it too.”
He blinked and shook his head. “You do?”
* * *
“Yes.” Tayla admitted the truth even though everything inside urged her to deny her feelings. Her mind panicked: You’re moving too fast. Alarms blared in her ears: Leave now. Her belly churned with anxiety: You hardly know him.
“I, I can’t explain it.” She came back to him, soaking in the face of the man who, without a logical explanation, stirred a longing inside her Tayla hadn’t known existed. Work and friends had been enough until him. Her heart rattled against the chains she’d bound link by link as she’d witnessed her father’s downward spiral and her mother’s slow descent into a woman so broken she’d given up and left a daughter behind. Her head was right, and she should get out now.
Waylon reached over and touched her face. “I don’t know what to do. There’s so much about me you don’t know, and if you did …” He swallowed as his eyes glistened. “I don’t think you’d ever look at me the same.” His head hung as his hand dropped from her face.
Tayla took his hand and entwined her fingers through his. “If I didn’t have the understanding that I do, that might be true.”
He lifted his head, and something flickered in his eyes, like an ember of hope. His hand was rough and twice the size of hers, yet she was the one strong enough to hold on for the both of them as his fingers trembled.
“But I’ve witnessed people time and time again make choices induced by the chemicals flowing through their body and not by the love in their heart.” She held his gaze. “That doesn’t define who they are. What matters is now.” Tayla reassured herself as childhood memories pounded from behind the closed door in her mind.
Waylon shook his head softly. “We know so little about each other.”
“I know. This doesn’t make sense.” She motioned back and forth between them. “This pull I feel towards you.”
“It’s crazy.”
Tayla stared into his eyes. “I know, but it might be a good crazy.” She smiled. “And what we do about it is up to us.”
He turned his head slightly, and his brow rose. “Okay, so what do we do?” Waylon glanced down and adjusted Charlie’s leash in his hand. The pup was content to explore, uninterested in their conversation.
“The sensible thing to do would be to take things slowly.” She gripped his hand tighter. “Get to know each other.”
“Okay.” His voice lacked conviction, and she understood him perfectly.
“Which feels completely backwards.” Tayla exhaled. “Since everything is rushing inside me.”
“You’re right. We should take it slow.” Waylon released his hand from hers as the light in his eyes intensified. He reached up and cupped the back of her neck, drawing her in. “Is this slow enough?”
His lips brushed hers as she closed her eyes and surrendered. He paused, and she waited, wanting more. When he didn’t move, she opened her eyes. He wanted her permission, which she freely gave, wrapping her arms around his waist and pulling him to her.
With the green light, Waylon dove in. His mouth crushed hers like an ocean tide, flooding her senses, then receding long enough for her to crave more. Tayla had never been kissed like this, because she’d never been kissed by Waylon.
The kiss she’d placed on his lips a few days ago had been an impulse, done without thought and nothing like the methodical way Waylon tasted her now: intentional and detailed, giving and taking, desire giving way to tenderness and a physical conveying of emotions. Tayla remembered the man at the horse sanctuary today and the tender heart she’d glimpsed. Her compassion and budding feelings for Waylon took the kiss to a place she’d never been before, a place where only she and Waylon existed and nothing mattered except each other and what they might discover together.
He pulled back as he gazed into her eyes, then pressed his lips tenderly on hers one last time. Waylon brushed her bangs to the side, and a smile set across his face like a sunset.
“Slow, huh?” A smile tugged on the corners of her lips. She kept her arms around Waylon as Charlie began to whimper.
“Apparently not fast enough for Charlie.” Waylon glanced down as the pup tugged on the leash, ready to move on. “Alright, alright, we’re moving.”
He reached for Tayla’s hand as they wandered down the walk. The autumn air nipped at her nose, but she’d never been warmer. Waylon’s demeanor seemed to have softened, and a peaceful expression covered his face. She sidled up to him, knowing her world would never be complete without him in it. Tayla’s head reminded her to proceed with caution, but she couldn’t take things slow, not when Waylon made her heart beat so fast.
Eleven
Monday morning, Waylon struggled to keep his mind on his job. Ha
mmer this, Tayla that. Measure this, Tayla that. His focus wrapped up in the memory of Saturday night beneath the muted sky. The kiss they’d shared blinded him to any other woman, but what eclipsed his world was the serenity he’d found with Tayla in his arms. It’d been a lacking component to his recovery, a piece he hadn’t known was missing until she was by his side.
Waylon worked to put his life back together, minute by minute, hour by hour, never dwelling on what he didn’t have. After what he’d experienced, every day was a gift, and he didn’t intend to squander a moment. Providing for himself and repairing his relationship with Jamon drove him to stay clean, and he hadn’t thought beyond those ambitions. Not until the moment Tayla had confessed her feelings for him and his universe expanded.
“It’s lunchtime.” Jed knocked on the two-by-four, startling Waylon. “And you’re going to wish you’d found your razor this morning.”
Waylon raised his brow. “Oh, why’s that?”
“Because there is a very pretty woman out by the office trailer, and she’s asking for you.” Jed pushed back his hard hat and scratched his forehead. “Although I can’t imagine why.” He grinned. “I’d get out there if I were you.”
“Yes, sir.” Waylon put his tools in his bag and walked out of the framed apartment he’d been working on. He ran his fingers over the stubble along his chin and the well-worn flannel he wore over a stained T-shirt. He’d planned on seeing Tayla tonight, something they’d arranged over the phone yesterday.
Waylon turned the corner and saw Tayla leaning against the portable building with a brown bag in her hand. She wore black skinny pants and high heels showing off her legs. A fitted jacket over a white button-down accentuated her curves. Tayla looked like a celebrity with her short, wild hair and dark sunglasses, and he wasn’t the only one who noticed as members of the crew gaped at her.