The next morning, I’m up early, having made a plan last night. I want to see if I can get Harlow to talk to me again, and to do that, I need to be where she is. So that means I'm watching her work her horses this morning. I may even offer my assistance. I mean, how different can it be to working a normal horse? Each and every one of us knows how to do that, even if I don't ride as often as my siblings.
After examining my ass in the mirror and discovering a rainbow-colored bruise that still hurts, I make my way downstairs to breakfast, thinking I might be able to get Harlow on her own before she goes out. Would she forgive me if I had the bruise made permanent in a tattoo? A forever reminder to never be a dick unless I want to get bit in the ass. Snorting in amusement at my own idea, I head toward the main living area.
But when I get there, it looks like I’m not the only one who had the same idea. Every one of my siblings is there, all dressed casually, looking like none of them have any intention of going into their respective offices today.
Nana gets me a plate of food when she sees me wincing, ruffling my hair and giving me a kiss on the cheek as she places it in front of me. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Harlow coming into the room, but I’m too busy listening to Nana. She whispers in my ear, “Make this right, boy” before going back to her place.
My eyes meet hers, and I nod, the wordless response bringing a smile to Nana’s face, and at least I can rest a little easier knowing that she’s in my corner.
Chapter Seven
Harlow
The alarm wakes me early the next morning, Princess following my socked feet as I quietly make my way to the kitchen, carrying my boots. I guess she’s decided to spend the day somewhere other than my room. Though I won’t be surprised if my sleepover buddy is back in my room just in time for bed.
When I hit the living area expecting to find nobody, I’m surprised to see everyone is not only awake, but they're also having breakfast.
“Morning, Harlow.” Dad's cheery voice is followed up with a round of grumpy grunts and head nods from all the various siblings. “We only use the formal dining room occasionally, so most of the time you’ll find us in here,” he explains, obviously seeing my surprise.
What the actual fuck is going on? Did everyone get bodysnatched by aliens overnight? I mean, they're not friendly, but they're not acting downright hostile like they usually are.
Shaking off my confusion, I mumble back a greeting as I get a cup of coffee from the side cabinet before sitting down. Princess has followed me the entire time, and when I sit down, she quickly jumps into my lap before I can pull my chair in.
“Stolen my cat, have you, Harlow?” Declan’s tone isalmostneutral, but the tightness of his eyes tips me off to the undercurrent of bitterness that tells the truth.
I run my hand over her back before taking a sip of my coffee and smiling at him. “Sorry, dude, I can't help that I keep finding her in my room. Someone must be letting her in because I always find the door cracked open.”
Nana frowns at my reply, and I can see Declan flinch slightly.Would he really let his cat into my room just so he has a reason to bitch at me? Petty level 1,000.I study his face but then shake myself mentally. No, he wouldn't do that; he dotes on the cat. Picking Princess up, I walk around to his side and dump her gently in his lap so that I can get myself some food. “You should take better care of a queen who's about to give birth. It’s almost time to lock her down in a room so she doesn't give birth in some random place,” I suggest to him.
With barely enough room to take a breath, he snarls, “I know. It’s not my first time doing this. I’ve had other cats that have had kittens.” But then he turns back to his cat, and out of the corner of my eye I watch as he snuggles into her, rubbing his face against hers as she does that ragdoll thing and flops into him, her purring louder than I've ever heard. The sight makes me smile, so I quickly turn, not needing to show any extra ounce of connection to my asshole “siblings.” It would be cute if he wasn't such a dick.Who am I kidding? It’s cute even though he’s a dick.
When I’ve got enough food, I sit back down at the table and look around. The atmosphere is relaxed, and nobody seems to be in a hurry like the last breakfast I attended. It’s then I realize everyone is wearing casual clothes.Duh, Harlow, it’s Saturday.Damn it, I assumed I’d have the place to myself. Well, no matter, I’ve got a busy day planned. I can’t wait to get the horses worked so that I can go on my little adventure.
Quickly finishing up my breakfast and coffee, I wish everyone a good day and take my plate through to the kitchen before putting my boots on and slipping out the other door. I’ve got to get all four horses into stables, brushed and tacked up, and that always takes a while when you’re working with more than one animal.
But when I get down to the yards they were in, they sit empty, and I finally remember that Luke is here too. I guess maybe that’s not a bad thing. He, or maybe Josh, has already stabled them for me, and that’s going to save me a small amount of time.
So I head over to the stables, the sound of horse hooves banging on the floor bringing a smile to my face. Someone is impatient this morning.
Cross-tied in the middle of the stable walk way is the pretty white mare, Delilah. She’s being brushed by Josh, and a couple of feet behind him, Luke has Hercules saddled and ready to go.
“Wow, look at you guys go! That makes my life a little easier.”
Josh smiles at me but Luke just nods, his eyes scanning up and down my body in a way that makes me feel weirded out.And that’s why I tirelessly avoided him whenever possible.Hiding a grimace, I turn to Delilah and run my hand over her muzzle.
“Brad called down last night and asked for me to give you a hand. He says you’ve got plans for later this afternoon.” My heart warms at my dad's thoughtfulness. I’m pretty sure he thinks my fascination with abandoned buildings is a little weird, but it’s nice to know he supports it whether he understands it or not.
“And it’s not like I’m all that busy. This really is the cushiest stable manager's position I’ve ever had. When any of the Summers actually ride, they do everything themselves. All I really have to do is feed them and ride an occasional horse if one of the others doesn’t have time. Oh, and look after Prada.” He nods toward the palomino mare.So that’s what her name is. Figures.
“Thank you anyway, I really appreciate it. Do you know what the driver did with my safety gear?”
“Yeah, I put it in the tack room,” he says, waving his hand in that direction.
Giving Delilah a final pat on the neck, I head over to grab my things. The door sits open, and when I enter, the rich smell of leather fills my nose, making me smile. There’s nothing better than the smell of freshly cleaned tack…. except maybe Oliver’s car.Stupid man, why did he have to go and ruin it?A smile crosses my face, though this time it’s driven by a twist of wicked satisfaction.I wonder what his ass looks like today. See, if he hadn't gone against me like that, I could’ve been kissing it better for him right now. Maybe even distracting him from his pain with a bit of pleasure. Stupid man.
Needing to focus on anything besides Oliver’s ass and all the things I wish I could be doing to it, I shake my head like I can fling those thoughts away. My bag is on one of the shelves, and I dig out my safety vest and my helmet, eager to get going. I pull on my vest first, making sure it’s fastened correctly before securing my helmet on my head. Lying on the floor in front of me are a couple of practice jousting lances and my padded jousting jacket. Looks like Chuck wants me to practice jousting too. Maybe that's why he sent Luke. Though I am a little reluctant to do it again so close to my injury. I’ll leave it as a last resort.
Heading back out, I approach Luke and Hercules, a large Holstiener chestnut gelding, a little on the heavier side. Makes him a perfect horse to carry around a knight in armor, which, given the jousting equipment, might be pretty likely for this movie.
