Felix hooks his head over my shoulder, demanding attention, which makes me chuckle. I scratch his nose and lean my cheek against his jaw as I do.
“Sorry, boy, it’s a sheet of ice out there. I don’t think you would like it if you went out. Let’s see how it looks tomorrow, maybe me and Mason can throw some ice melt out for you.”
Even with my ice spikes on my boots, the walk down the hill from the house was a slow treck. Felix goes into the stall, but he huffs and bobs his head to show his chagrin, making me laugh. The fresh grain and hay grabs his attention, and he seems to forgive me for the time being.
Felix is an Appaloosa and was foaled by my favorite horse, Frost, about four years ago, he’s also one of our most gentle horses. It was Dad’s idea to keep him for Lainey Rai after Marley predicted he would be the perfect horse for her.
At the time, I hadn’t even considered keeping a horse specifically for Lainey Rai since she never got on one without an adult, but I’m glad I did. She has a way with the horses like her Aunt Marley, and Felix has definitely been perfect for her.
Tossing the muck shovel into the cart, I push it into the stall I just took Felix out of. I pull the empty water and grain buckets out of their holders and toss them out into the corridor to hose off in the grooming stall.
“What’d those buckets ever do to you?” Mason’s deep voice breaks through the quiet I’ve been enjoying.
He went to Marley’s stables about an hour ago to help her move the carts across the ice to the dumpster. I can’t say I’m looking forward to his smart-ass company right now.
“He’s been tossing things around for the past two hours, if you can get him to tell you why, let me know.” Dad yells from the tack room where he’s cleaning gear, his gravelly voice sounds even more rough when yelling.
Ignoring both of their comments, I straighten and turn to ask Mason, “Is Lainey Rai helping Marley?”
He leans against the stall door with a shit-eating grin on his face. “Yeah, they were cooing all over the mare that doesn’t like men.”
Turning away to clear a strip on the floor to wheel my cart, I grunt at him and start shoveling. That horse hates men for the same reason some women hate men, she’d been mistreated for a long time. She came to us with sores on her neck and back, one was full of puss, a matted mane and tail, and every time Mason or I got close, she would try to bolt, and the whites of her eyes would show the panic she was feeling.
It took all of a day before she was letting Marley touch her nose and another couple of days before she was approaching Marley for attention. She’s a beautiful horse, I’ve never understood how people can hurt such gentle, comical and majestic creatures.
They can also be sneaky when they want something.
Sort of like the little filly up in my house who smells like peaches and has amber eyes that look like whiskey through a crystal glass. Goddamn it! I throw a shovel full of shit so hard it almost knocks the cart over. I can’t be thinking about her beautiful smile or what those heart shaped lips would feel like.
There's also something in me that wants to shove her against the wall and sink into her, to feel her heat wrapped around me as I hear her moan. When I locked eyes with her earlier, I could see her attraction there, it was the same look I was giving her, and my cock twitched in my jeans.
Fuck!
“Damn, brother, if you don’t want to shovel the shit, I’ll do it. I don’t mind.”
I look over my shoulder at Mason, he’s still leaning against the door frame with the same grin, and I want to punch him in the nose. Last time Mason and I got into a real fight was shortly after he turned seventeen and thought his shit didn’tstink.
We were tossing bales of hay out of the hayloft in the barn when we got into it and started throwing punches and tussling, we ended up knocking over some of the bales Dad had painstakingly stacked earlier in the season and making a huge mess in the loft.
Dad was pissed.
By the time we completed the list of things Dad told us we had to clean as punishment, it was well into the night. We didn’t have dinner, and we were sweaty, dirty, covered in hay, and blood was smeared across both of our faces from our earlier tussle and wiping sweat.
The irritation I felt with him that day is the same irritation I feel now, but it’s not because of him, and I have to remind myself of that.
“Why don’t you make yourself useful and toss some ice melt out in the paddock so we can let some of them out for a while tomorrow.” I growl and turn back to my task.
“Does the smoke pouring out of your ears have anything to do with the belle up in the house and the way you were looking at her?” He asks, and I freeze for half a second, but I don’t acknowledge the question before I resume what I’m doing.
As he walks away, in typical Mason fashion, he is chuckling to himself for getting a rise out of me.
Fucking shit-heel.
The rest of the day, I manage to keep to myself, but that doesn’t mean Mason is done being the annoying asshole he is. I love my brother, but today I miss when he lived closer to his Team in Tennessee.
It wasn’t until he met Sloane that he moved back home a few months ago. We called him home because Dad had his heart attack, I’ve suspected the harassment at the hands of the ‘Royce’ company might be part of what brought that on.
Just another reason that woman shouldn’t be in our house.
