My eyes narrowed again. There was no judgment from her, just curiosity. This girl wasn’t normal, which was a realization that hit me smack in the chest. I knew already, but it was just resonating throughout me more and more.

God. I couldn’t let her slip through my fingers, but I had a feeling that was what this girl did—to everyone.

“No, but I shouldn’t go as hard as I have been.”

“Why?”

I frowned. “Why should I not drink as much?”

“Why do you drink so much?”

“Uh.” I scratched behind my ear. “My brother died about almost eight months ago. I was on the phone with him when it happened.” I was going for broke. “It messed me up real bad.”

“But you’re an actor? That’s what you do for a job?”

“Yeah.”

“So, you’re working. That’s good. You’re not so messed up that you can’t keep a job.”

I frowned at her, then cracked a grin. “Are you Dr. Phil-ing me?”

She frowned this time. “What is that?”

She lived with horses.

“Nothing. Stupid joke.” I shook my head and tugged at my collar. Did it suddenly get hot out here? “My manager got me to do this movie, so here I am. Acting. Doing my job.” Sounding lame yet again.

She took a step toward me, bringing her feet almost into the river. “I don’t know what a Dr. Phil-ing is. Is that something to drink?”

I barked out a laugh and then stopped right away. I didn’t want her to think I was laughing at her. “He’s a psychologist or psychiatrist, whichever one, and he has his own show. He counsels people on television.”

Understanding dawned in her eyes, but she stepped back, her feet pulling farther away from the river. “I know what a counselor is.”

I wanted to ask how she knew. The question was burning on my tongue, but it was the same thing. If I pushed too much, would she run? I didn’t want that. I so didn’t want that.

Oh, fuck it. I was going for it.

“So, we’ve established that I’m somewhat of a drunk, and it’s because of my brother’s death.” I gestured to those woods again. “Can I ask about you? It’s the elephant in the room.”

She looked around. “We’re not in a room. There’s no elephant here.”

“It’s a phrase.” Shit. I was going too far. I needed to pull back. “Nothing. Sorry.”

I saw a faint grin. She was teasing me.

She asked, “Are you trying to ask me why I spend so much time with the horses?”

“Uh. Yeah.”

She shrugged, looking away. “It makes more sense to be with them.”

“Really?”

She nodded, turning back to me. “Don’t you feel like that? You’re here instead of being with the others up there?” She gestured toward the main lodge.

“They all went to the bars tonight. And . . .” Again, I was going for it. “I took a walk tonight hoping to see you.”

She continued to look at me. She didn’t break her gaze or even blink. Then she grinned, two soft dimples showing. “You’re flirting with me.”

“Damn straight.”

Her mouth parted a little. “When people flirt, are they this honest about it?”

“God, no.” I rubbed a hand over my face. Gayle would’ve been laughing her ass off at me if she were watching. The girl was calling me on everything. “There’s usually some innuendos, but nothing so out and out.”

“Innuendos.”

“Yeah. Where the message is implied but not so explicitly said.”

“Ah. Yes.” Her smile was fading, but it still lingered a bit longer. The wrinkles around her mouth remained. “I’d forgotten about that. I don’t talk to people.”

“Like ever?”

“As little as I can.” She shook her head. “Talking to people seems pointless to me.”

Holy fuck. There were so many questions I wanted to ask just off that one statement. I refrained. People wanted to know my business, and I was always turned off. I couldn’t bombard the girl.

“I get it. I do.”

She grinned again, and this time, I had the distinct impression she was laughing at me. “You do? You have a band of horses that’s taken you in too?”

“Yeah.” I didn’t remember the last time I’d smiled like this, maybe when I was a kid. “Don’t think you’re so special. My herd is made up of all stallions. Take that. All stallions. How many times does that work out?”

She stared at me and then peeled over in laughter the next second.

This girl. This female. This woman.

I wasn’t even sure which I was dealing with, but she humbled me. She wasn’t talking to me with an agenda. She didn’t want something from me. She didn’t see me with dollar signs in her eyes or her next acting gig already lined up. She was pure. She was innocent. And she had no idea how rare she was.

I felt stupidly little in that moment.

She was what every person wanted to find in life.

When she noticed I was looking at her weird, she quieted, a small chuckle slipping out, but she hid it behind a hand. “Sorry. Just—” She looked to the ground. “No one’s made that kind of joke to me before.”