“No,” I bite. I’m ready to get the hell out of Sutten, as a matter of fact. I’m ready to get away from her and all the shit she’s doing to my head. I’m not someone who gets distracted, and I refuse to become one when it comes to her.
Pippa shrugs, guiding her horse forward. “I’m going to show you anyway.”
She’s too far ahead to hear the angry sigh that rips through me. I scowl, training my eyes on the back of her head so I don’t get distracted by her body once again. I’m so focused on keeping my gaze in a safe zone that I miss the fact that both of our horses have come to a stop, and in front of us is a view that makes me pause.
“Holy shit,” I mutter under my breath, looking at the expansive view in front of us. It’s so breathtaking it deserves to be captured in paint forever.
“It’s something else, isn’t it?” Her voice takes me by surprise. She’s no longer ahead of me; instead, she sits on her horse right next to me.
“It’s okay,” I lie. It’s one of the most beautiful views I’ve ever seen. Some of the leaves on the trees have started to change colors. It’s absolutely mesmerizing. I’ve been all around the world. I’ve seen a handful of the seven wonders of the world, but fuck, I hate that she’s right about the view in front of me.
It’s magnificent. A hidden treasure that not many people seem to know about except the people who live here. The trees paint a vibrant picture in hues of red and orange, mixed with a small amount of luscious green from the trees that haven’t quite accepted summer changing into fall. There are even mixes of yellows throughout the rolling hills. If I look far enough, there’s a large body of water nestled in between the trees. The top of the mountaintop behind it reflects in the water, creating a masterpiece.
If I could have some of my most popular artists come up here, they could create magic. The idea pops into my head without welcome. I shouldn’t want to return here. I shouldn’t want to bring talented artists here to capture the breathtaking essence in front of me, but I can’t stop myself from already imagining it. They’d never come close to capturing how perfect the view is, but damn do I know some really talented people who could try their best.
“What’s on your mind?” Pippa’s voice is soft, pulling me from all the different plans flying through my head. Even the kid I just met—Tommy, I believe it was—could create a masterpiece if he had the chance to come up here and paint the views.
“I can’t imagine what this looks like at dawn.” The words spill from my mouth before I can do anything about stopping them. My jaw snaps together as my head catches up with what I just said. It wasn’t at all what I was thinking—or was I? Either way, it wasn’t something I wanted to say out loud to her.
I still feel this immense need to act like the view in front of me is ordinary—even though it’s anything but. The expanse of land in front of us is everything, but I don’t want to let her know that. I don’t want her to know she’s right.
“It’s truly one of a kind.” Her eyes soften at the corners a little. It isn’t with humor. It’s almost as if her features soften with relief. Like she can breathe a little easier knowing I didn’t automatically bash something she loves so much.
We’ve bickered and fought more than I have with any other random stranger in my life. I should have no problem insulting the view she clearly loves—but I can’t do it. I’ve said some shitty things to her, but I can’t do it again. Not at this exact moment.
Because I understand what she means. I’ve seen the incredible craftsmanship in the architecture of Barcelona, the lake at the bottom of the mountains in Hallstatt, Austria, the Amalfi Coast in Italy with water such a vivid turquoise I wondered how it was possible for it to be so vibrant. I’ve vacationed in the French countryside and walked through rows and rows of blooming cherry blossom trees in Japan. My lifestyle has brought me all around the world, allowing me to see so many beautiful places. Little did I know the one I wanted captured in paint the most was one in a little town I’d never heard of in Colorado. And I never would’ve heard of it if my best friend and his wife hadn’t insisted on getting married here and forcing us all to join them.
“Is this where I say I told you so?” There’s sass to her voice as she climbs off her horse.
I roll my eyes at her. She absolutely could say that, but I bite my tongue so I don’t admit it to her. Instead, I look at the ground and anxiously wonder how the hell I’m supposed to get off this horse.