him this - the chance to finally unburden himself of the weight he'd been carrying around for so long.
Only, she couldn't quite figure out where to start, so she moved closer to admire the horse he was grooming. "You really do have the most beautiful horses." He didn't say anything, but she hadn't expected him to. Not yet, anyway. "How long have you been riding?"
Of course, instead of answering her simple question, he stayed right where he was behind the horse's flanks. "Do you need something, Lori? Is the farmhouse on fire? Or have you 'accidentally' let a fox into the henhouse?"
His sarcasm stung, but she refused to let him push her away that easily. Not when she guessed that was how he'd dealt with the world ever since his wife died, just by pushing and pushing and pushing until no one dared come close anymore.
Feeling much bolder around his horse since she'd survived the ride the day before, she gently ran her hand down the soft hair on his muzzle and took strength from the big brown eyes staring back at her. Funny, she'd never realized just how much she loved animals until this past week. If only she didn't travel so much, she would want at least one dog and cat when she went back home.
Although, if she wasn't going to dance again...
Wait, she hadn't come into the stable today to work out her own mess of a life. She was here to help Grayson. To get him to see that he could trust her enough to finally open up.
She moved around the side of the horse so that she could see Grayson's face. "My father died when I was two. He was forty-eight and my mother was left with all eight of us to raise. I would climb into her bed to cuddle with her some nights and her pillow would be all wet and she would just hold me until we both fell asleep." She could guess without Grayson's telling her that he hadn't had anyone to hold after his wife died. Or if he had, he'd turned away from them before they could get too close. "I know how hard it is to lose someone - "
"You don't know a damn thing about how hard it is!"
His outburst was so loud the previously calm horse spooked and began to rear up. Grayson yanked Lori out of the stall before a hoof could connect with her head.
His expression was so fierce, his grip on her arm so hard, that she had to steel herself not to shrink back from him. He needed her, she knew he did.
Surely it was why he'd worked so hard to keep her at arm's length.
"I know you must still be in terrible pain over what happened. Have you talked to anyone about your wife? Have you tried to work through any of your grief? Because if you haven't, then maybe if you talked to me about it, I could help you - "
"Help?" He spit the word out as he released his grip on her so quickly she almost spun into the opposite stall. "Helping is all you've been trying to do since you got here. Trying so damned hard."
"I have been trying, Grayson, and I've been doing a pretty good job with everything," she interjected. "But I think the reason I ended up here, on your farm, wasn't because I needed to learn to be a farmhand. Maybe - " She forced herself to continue despite the fury on his face. "Maybe I had to come here because you needed me."
He laughed, but instead of joy, the sound was harsh and brittle, as far from true laughter as anything she'd ever heard.
"All you've done since you showed up is ruin things. Break things. Push your way in where you shouldn't be." His eyes were black as night, hard as coal. "All you've done is go where you're not wanted."
Holy crap, he was mean. Even meaner than her ex had been when she'd finally told him what she thought of him and his dancing and his endless career-climbing. Even meaner than he'd been when she'd accidentally let the pig she'd nicknamed Sophie decimate his strawberries.
But when pushed hard enough she could be mean, too, cruel enough to remind him, "You wanted me plenty last night."
"Then that makes both of us idiots." His glare was hot enough to spark a fire in the loose hay they were standing on. He raked his