“Now, Kitty—Violet is a perfectly polite lady. She’ll not do anything to endanger you.” Lance’s expression turned achingly fond as he faced the horse, running a hand up her nose. “I would know, after all. I raised her myself.”
Ugh, why was that cute? That wasn’t supposed to be cute. You know who lost their shit over dudes and horses? Lonely housewives who read cheesy bodice-rippers, that was who, and Keith was better than that.
“Yeah?” he asked, trying for casual. “You, um…big on horses?”
“I find them calming. Valiant and bold, though they recognize a gentle soul.”
With a small huff of laughter, Lance let his forehead fall against Violet’s long nose. In response, she snorted and nudged at his head.
“Violet and I have loved one another since she was a foal,” Lance explained, stroking her neck and allowing his eyes to slip shut. “Rachel intended for us to grow together, I believe, and years later, here we are. Steadfast companions.”
Keith tilted his head. “Who’s Rachel?”
Though Lance wasn’t facing him, Keith could feel the air between them change. It wasn’t a bad change, necessarily, but there was something somber in Lance’s voice when he spoke. “…I apologize, Keith. We’ve only just met, yet there are times I feel as if I’ve known you for years. You are quite easy to talk to.”
--
