Page 56 of American Love Story

His exaggerated eye roll was almost comical.

I pointed at my guy, who had been fretting since he’d heard my voice. “That’s him,” I said, pointing at my black Percheron that was now openly demanding my attention, snorting and bumping his nose on the door of his stall. I walked over and gave him some love while Patrice watched from a distance. “This is Justice.”

He laughed and shook his head at that. “Subtle.”

I dipped my head, sure I was blushing at his teasing tone. “So much about me is understated.”

I actually got a snort out of Patrice Denis.

“He’s beautiful.” He inched toward where I was standing petting Justice’s big head. “And large.”

I smiled at Patrice’s very cautious tone and movements. “You can move closer, he thinks he’s a dog. He’ll probably try to lick you, but other than that, you’re pretty safe.”

We stood there for a few moments petting Justice and feeding him an apple I’d brought for him, while I thought of how to salvage this afternoon. I was running scenarios through my head when Patrice tugged on my scarf.

“Hey, no fretting. We’re having a nice a time.” He hiked his thumb in the direction of the parking lot. “Let’s finish visiting with Justice then go warm up a little in the car. We can drive back home after.” The word home was uttered in a very suggestive tone. The way he was looking at me made me feel like my clothes were going to disintegrate from by body.

After giving a last pat to a very unhappy Justice, I let Patrice pull me out of the barn, and we walked to my SUV. I said in genuine amazement, “This zen thing you’ve got going is quite remarkable. I’m not sure I can handle it.”

He laughed again as we got into my frigid car and I immediately blasted the heat and turned on the seat warmers. As we sat there thawing out, I saw Patrice was mulling over what I’d said.

He leaned down to get the thermos I’d brought with me and opened it. When he sniffed it, he raised both eyebrows. “Is there liquor in here?”

I grinned at his surprised expression. “Just a touch of bourbon.”

He shook his head and closed it up. “Maybe just water, then.”

I just nodded, still waiting for his answer about my previous comment. After taking a long drink of what had to be icy water, he looked at me and I could tell he was still considering how to approach the conversation I’d just reopened.

“It’s not zen.” He shook his head as he bit the side of his mouth. “My utter lack of chill doesn’t exactly allow for that,” he said ruefully, then let out a long breath and pressed his head to the back of the seat and turned those almost-black eyes on me. I couldn’t stay away when he was this close, so I leaned in to him and pressed a kiss to his mouth.

When I pulled back, he put his hand on the back of my head and pulled me in for another, licking into my mouth with gentle brushes of his tongue. Making me feel his kiss all the way down to my toes.

Only after did he start to talk again. “I just like that you’re able to lose it a little bit with me. That you don’t feel like you need to do that Mr. Sunshine thing all the time.”

Mr. Sunshine?

He leaned in and kissed me again. “It’s just nice to see that you can be real with me. I want to reciprocate, babe.”

Babe?

I was literally stunned into silence, but apparently the new Patrice was chatty. “I want to make this work, and to do that, I need to let go a bit, be a little sunnier, so you can feel free…not to be. Balance.”

I pursed my lips and could almost see my eyebrows with how much I’d furrowed them. “So youlikethat I threw a fit?”

He actually cackled at my bafflement. “I like that we can be ourselves with each other. I like being with you in the car right now and not freezing my ass off while I try to ride a gigantic horse that could crush me. I likeyou,Easton.”

My heart was beating that way it had started doing whenever Patrice was around. “I like you, too.”

He nodded and then thrust his chin out in the direction of the steering wheel. “Let’s go back to your place. Maybe we can put the rest of this afternoon to good use.”

I pulled out of the stable and onto the road back to Ithaca, thinking about what had just happened. My romantic afternoon had been an utter fail, and somehow things between Patrice and me felt more solid now than they’d ever had. Before I knew it, I was talking about something I hadn’t said to anyone else before.

“Brad outed me to my dad.”

I briefly glanced at Patrice’s face, which had lost all semblance of relaxation. “He did what?” he asked, his voice barely contained fury.

“It was a long time ago; we were still in high school. I actually went to the public high school, because they had better AP classes. Brad did, too. He was a year behind me. Anyway, junior year, I wasn’t out, but I’d been seeing this senior.”