She definitely wasn't a kid anymore and the realization, or at least the feelings it stirred within me, were a little unsettling. I couldn't explain it; seeing her standing there in that barn today... all grown up...

I felt guilty for thinking she looked really beautiful, like her father, my former boss, might just come back and kick my ass from beyond the grave.

I couldn't let myself think like that; she was so incredibly off limits, and I was the furthest thing from what she wanted in a man... what any woman would want in a man...

I ran my fingers through my hair and swore under my breath when finally she climbed down the ladder and headed back towards the main house. I closed and locked the hatch to the barn and grabbed the sheets from the laundry basket.

I was highly doubtful I'd be getting much sleep but it was worth a shot.

After tossing, turning and wincing in pain for the better part of the next five hours, I finally gave up and made my way to a pair of old wooden shutters, pulling them open and staring out at the Atwood property. The sun was still a few ways away from rising and the air was a little chilly, but I liked it best that way.

The lights were off in the main house; Carly was probably asleep and I envied her for that. I don't think I'd slept properly in nine years.

I walked to the other end of the room and started looking around; I opened the drawer to the night stand, unsure what I was expecting to find. It was empty, and I guessed it would remain that way for a while given I barely owned anything. I opened the creaky doors to the closet and decided to make myself busy by unpacking my clothes. Once again, I barely owned anything, so that took about five minutes.

I was about to shut the closet door when I spotted the old guitar case out of the corner of my eye, battered and faded with age and use.

"Damn," I muttered, reaching up and tugging it off the top shelf just over my head. I hadn't seen that thing in so long; actually, I forgot all about it when I left it behind to gather dust nine years ago.

I unlocked the case and popped the top open. The guitar was as old as the case but it had fared much better, the wood still gleaming. I picked it up and ran my fingers over the rusted strings.

At the bottom of the case sat a few guitar picks, an old pocket knife, two dimes, a quarter and an old notebook filled with my untidy scrawl; song lyrics mostly, things that would probably make me laugh or cringe if I were to read them again.

I grabbed a black guitar pick and went back to the window, climbing out onto the thick ledge and letting my fingers take control.

I winced at the sound.

The guitar needed a new set of strings.

The sun was still rising when my alarm clock went off, about ten minutes before I really had to get up to start my day. I turned onto my left side and pressed snooze, enjoying the peace and quiet for a moment.

Then the moment was gone and I put my brain into drive, slipping out of bed and making my way downstairs to start a pot of coffee. I returned upstairs while the coffee was brewing and crossed to the other end of the hall into the bathroom.

I showered and dressed quickly into a pair of old jeans and a t-shirt, pulling my damp hair into a quick braid.

I didn't usually wear too much make-up; that morning I was going to be lazy and forget it altogether, but then I thought of John and the girl in me reacted instinctively, grabbing the foundation on my dresser and the accompanying brush. I added a bit of mascara and called it good.

I didn't know why I was making such a fuss; he was a thirty year-old man, a few weeks from thirty-one, and I was a twenty year-old girl with a stupid crush I thought I'd buried long ago with my childhood innocence.

I sighed and grabbed a ring from my jewelry box that used to belong to my mother, putting it onto my right hand. I made a move to close the box again but a hint of silver caught my eye.

I smiled a little as I picked up the dog tags and ran my fingers over the smooth metal.

I wore those dog tags for months after John left, determined to keep them safe for a man that was supposed to come back for them. Eventually I grew up and put them away in my jewelry box, but I never completely forgot about them.

I put the dog tags back and made my way downstairs, the aroma of coffee making me giddy. No one should be this excited about caffeine in the morning; I had a serious problem.

I was pouring myself a cup and humming to myself when the screen door opened a few feet behind me.

I spun around on the heels of my bare feet and smiled up at John.

He wore a red t-shirt and a pair of jeans. He took off his baseball cap the moment he set foot inside and put it on the table, adding a pair of sunglasses and the keys of his truck next to it. There was already a hint of dark stubble covering his jaw and cheeks; the fact that he could grow that much facial hair overnight reminded me once again of the age gap separating us.

Ten years, almost eleven.

"Mornin'," John was the first to speak.

"Hi," I replied. "Grab yourself a cup... I didn't start on breakfast yet... Did you sleep at all? I know the first night in a strange place can be weird," I said conversationally.

"This place is far from strange," John replied after an extended pause, sneaking behind me to grab a coffee mug from one of the cupboards. "Sorry," he added a little awkwardly as his arm brushed against mine.

"It's okay," I told him, glancing over my shoulder. "So everythin' at the loft is fine then? You don't need anythin'?" I wondered.

"I'm good," John nodded.

There was another stretch of silence as I gathered ingredients to make some omelets, watching him out of the corner of my eye. He was leaning against the island countertop, watching me too.

"Want help with anythin'?" he asked finally.

"Sure," I answered after a moment's hesitation, figuring after his insistence on doing the dishes last night that arguing with him wouldn't amount to much. "I don't know what you like in your omelet so uh... just... grab whatever and put it together," I suggested, grabbing the cheese grater from one of the cupboards.

"I don't think breakfast will be this fancy every day," I added with a soft laugh, looking up at him a little apologetically.

"It's okay... anythin' beats army food," John chuckled.

After breakfast we checked on the horses quickly and then proceeded to walk around. I showed him some of the newer additions to the ranch since he'd last been here. He probably knew the chores he had to do better than I did so I didn't go into too much detail about that, sticking to the basics and making sure he didn't have any questions.

He didn't have any, figures.

The rest of the morning was spent doing a lot of business-y things. I had a meeting with a troublesome boarder - the person boarding the horse was giving me headaches, not the actual horse - that was three months behind on boarding fees, and then I got behind the computer screen to finish the certificates for the kids that had just graduated from the beginner riding course.

It was almost noon and I was beginning to get hungry when I happened to glance up towards the clock above the office entrance - the office was an extension to the barn, opposite the tack room, and didn't have a door.

I about jumped halfway out of my chair when I saw John standing there.

"Crap, you scared me half to death! How long have you been standin' there?" I asked him, holding my hand up over my speeding heart.

"Just a couple seconds," John replied, looking a little sheepish. He hesitated for a moment longer before deciding to walk further into the office, his heavy, booted footfalls causing the old floorboards to creak. "I was just lookin' around at your fences...I noticed you've got one that needs some fixin'... before coyotes start gettin' in... You don't have some leftover fence staples do you?" he wondered.

"Oh, uh..." I thought for a moment, looking down at my keyboard. "No, I think my cousin said somethin' about runnin' out last time...But I can go and grab some," I told him.

"I can go, it's no trouble," John was quick to add.

"Oh well, I have to go to town anyway to get some more ink for my printer," I replied, not wanting him to waste gas just for that. "So I can just get the... what was it? The fence staples? That," I added.

"Do you know what they look like?" John asked me with a smirk.

"Not in the slightest," I admitted, blushing. "Stop laughing at me! I haven't been doin' too great a job at keepin' track of everything... my dad was the one that took care of that stuff, never bothered to show me," I told him.

"I wasn't laughin'," John argued, stoic as ever.

"You were in your head," I retorted, fighting the urge to roll my eyes at him.

"Just come with me then," he shrugged, that crooked smirk back on his face again. He took his hat off, ran his fingers through his black hair and put his hat back on, twisting it so that the bill was at the back, making it a lot easier for me to see his face. "I'll show you for future reference," he smiled.

I opened my mouth to argue that I could send my cousin out later, not wanting to cause John any trouble, but secretly I was looking forward to spending some more time with him... regardless of his poor conversation skills.

"Alright, fine... do you want to go now? We can grab some lunch at Buck's on the way back... I'm starvin'," I suggested.

"Yeah, sounds good," John shrugged.

"Good, let me go grab my-" I told him, quickly getting out of my chair and almost face-planting after tripping on my own two feet. John's torso was conveniently there to break my fall however, his steadying hands reaching for my waist. "-purse," I ended my sentence a little breathlessly, staring up at him.

"Don't go trippin' over yourself; I'm not that great company," he teased.

I wanted to come up with some interesting retort, something that would make him smile again or make me seem less like a blubbering, clumsy idiot... but I couldn't. My body was still pressed against his chest and his arms were still holding me steady, his touch strong and manly... but also soft and comfortable... all mixed together.

I couldn't breathe, let alone think straight.

"I'll just... go get my purse," I smiled shyly, untangling myself from the awkward embrace and speeding out of the barn towards the house.

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