Patrice gave me a rueful smile and tightened his arms around me, his mouth so close to my ear his warm breath made me shiver. “I kind of like this pissed-off you. It’s nice not to be the moody asshole for once. Besides we can still have a nice time, we can eat in the car, there’s heating in there.”

I rolled my eyes, but it was hard to stay mad when he was like this.

“Well, for the record, it stinks to know that my idea to sweep you of your feet was stupid and poorly executed, even if you seem to be weirdly happy about my fail.”

More smiling and acting delighted. “We don’t have to give up on this totally, and knowing how busy you are right now I do appreciate that you went to the trouble of planning something. Besides, it’s not your fault it’s unseasonably cold today. I’d still like to see the horses. I haven’t really been to a horse farm before.”

He was beaming.

I angled my head and tried not to sound too annoyed when I spoke again. “So wait, you can barely muster up a smirk ninety percent of the time, but this utter fiasco is somehow the most fun thing ever for you?”

Again with the smiling, but his eyes were telling me that there was a lot more to his mood. He was seeing something. The way he was looking at me, holding me, it felt different. It was like he was fully there with me for the first time.

“I’m not sure what’s happening right now,” I said, genuinely puzzled.

He took my hand and, without answering, started moving to the stalls. The smell of hay, manure and horseflesh was overpowering with all the ventilation pretty much closed because of the cold. I found the smell comforting, since horses had been one of the few things I’d had growing up that my parents actually approved of. But I knew it wasn’t something most people found pleasant. He seemed fine though, looking around, taking everything in, a contented smile on his lips. When we got to the bay he asked in a low voice, like he was afraid of disturbing the animals, “Which one is yours?”

“How do you know I have one?” was my evasive answer.

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.”