The Beginning of a Beautiful Friendship

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Brock's POV

Hunter and I spent the day working and hanging out. He's a pretty cool guy and didn't care if I did things perfectly. We were defiantly going to be good friends.

After working all day I headed home happy about the day except for one little part. I couldn't stop thinking about Laci's words and how she could never want to see me again. I mean this was a bit of a stretch, I do work at her farm now. We are going to have to see each other every day, which I really didn't see a problem with that. She was hot.

Laci's POV

I really wasn't that mad at Brock. I just needed to get away from him and it was the only thing I could do to achieve that. I had yelled at him trying to keep a straight face the entire time. His reaction was so cute that I just wanted to grab him and kiss him, but I knew I couldn't. I couldn't think when I was around him. His body clouded my thoughts and his smell was intoxicating. He smelled like mint with a hint of pine. He had eyes of the bluest skies and a smile as bright as the sun. Just thinking about him pulled my mind away from reality. I have to stop thinking about him. I have decided to become friends with him. Hopefully being friends will help me to get over him.

The next morning I woke up to the sound of the tractor starting. I got up, dressed, and ran outside to do my chores. I had to feed my horses.

We have about twenty horses at Prairie View Ranch and three of them are mine. Some of them we ride for rodeo, some of them we breed, and some of them we just ride. Ambara, is a genuine quarter horse, that I use to barrel race. She has caramel brown hair. Gunner is an appaloosa horse. He has dark brown hair with patches of white on his back. He was my first horse. Pacos is an old paint horse that use to be my grandpa's until he retired and moved to town. He has a dark black mane, with light tan hair and white patches on his face.

As I was feeding Ambara, I noticed that she had tensed up all of a sudden. I followed her gaze and saw Brock walking towards me. I could feel a smile creep onto my face and the word hey was issued from my mouth. He looked at me with a grin and seemed relieved. I didn't know I was that mean to him yesterday, but from his reaction I guess I must have been. I quickly apologized for yesterday and he began to help me feed Ambara, who had finally relaxed.

When we finished Brock turned to me and said, "Can I take you to a movie tonight? I feel really bad about screwing everything up yesterday and want to make it up to you."

I hadn't been expecting it, so it took me a second to register what he had said. In the few seconds it took me to take it all in, his face fell. I began to feel bad, so I told him I would and asked what time he wanted to go.

He replied, "Is seven thirty ok?" I smiled and nodded my head. He said he had to go do some more work and with that he left the stable.

I was so excited that I spent the rest of the day either helping my mom or in my room getting ready. I could not decide what to wear. I finally decided on dark blue jeans, with a light pink top and long sleeved shirt over top. It was white and came off my shoulder a bit. I curled my hair and put it in a side ponytail and did some light make-up. I was standing in front of the mirror when my dad walked in.

He took one look at me and his face turned stern looking. He asked me, "Where are you going tonight and who are you going with?"

I smiled at him and said cheerfully, "Daddy, I'm just going out with some friends to the movie. It's not a big deal."

It must have worked because his face went soft and he left seeming satisfied. He is so protective of me. He wants me to marry a nice farm boy, who played football and was on his way to becoming a professional rodeo star like he had been. I had only had one problem with this though, most of the rodeo stars these days don't stick with only one girl.

I heard Brock's truck pull up and ran downstairs and out the door before my dad could realize who's truck it was. I hopped in the front seat and we were off.

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