“What’s his full name?” I asked.
“Obsidian King,” Gunner said with a proud sigh. “Of Belmont Stakes winner Midnight Dominion, and Kentucky Derby winner Velvet Empress. And here’s the best bit, the grandsire of Sovereign Crest.”
My eyes bugged. “Sovereign Crest, who won the Triple Crown?”
“The very same.”
“You didn’t tell me that.” I ran a hand down the horse’s strong neck, marveling in the corded muscle beneath his sleek coat.
“I didn’t want to jinx it if Jack Parnell changed his mind about selling him to me.” Gunner took a step back and watched him reverently as Mikey handed me the reins.
“Here you go, Tally.” He grinned. “He’s amazing, right?”
“Incredible. He’s going to make some beautiful babies, that's for sure.” I started to lead him toward the stables where we’d set up what was almost like a penthouse suite for him. We were using one of the double stalls for him, hopefully so Songbird could eventually join him there.
As I walked him across the yard, everyone was buzzing, excited to see the incredible beast that would hopefully put The Last Creek Horse Breeding program on the map. Gunner had involved me all the way, but today I felt detached. Like my heart wasn’t wholly into it because it was elsewhere. With someone else who didn’t even want it.
Almost at the stable, Glenn appeared with a huge grin on his face.
“He’s huge,” he said, reaching out a hand to stroke Obsidian’s nose. He reared his head back making Glenn stumble. “Shit, he’s pretty grouchy isn’t he?”
I laughed loudly. “I think he’s fine. Maybe it’s more your problem than his.”
He frowned, his eyes quizzical like he had no clue how it could possibly be his fault. My thoughts went back to Wilder; he always owned his mistakes. Was always upfront about what he wanted. He’d told me it was just sex and I’d been the one to make a damn mess of things and fall for him. He’d warned me not to, but I’d done it anyway.
I leaned forward and put a hand on Glenn’s forearm, looking him directly in the eye. “I think maybe you should stick to the ranch horses from now on. This boy is clearly too much for you.”
He gave a nervous chuckle, and it was obvious he wasn’t sure I was being serious. I totally was. Obsidian King was way too much horse for the smooth skinned city boy who fancied himself as a rancher.
Turning to lead Obsidian past Glenn, that was when I saw him.
Wilder.
He was standing by the horse trailer watching me. Watching Glenn. When he started to walk my way, his face a mask of disdain, I knew I wasn’t ready to hear it. Didn’t want to hear how it was over and that we were no longer just sex. We weren’t anything any longer.
“Mikey,” I called to him, beckoning him over. “Think you could take Obi, I feel ill all of a sudden.”
He frowned. “You do look kinda pale.” He took the reins and peered at me. “You should drink some ginger ale, that’ll ease the nausea.”
Nodding, I gave him a tight smile hoping that ginger ale could fix hearts too, even though I already knew it couldn’t. Then I rushed away. I didn’t look back. I couldn’t. Just in case he was watching—letting me go.
Back in my cabin, I sat on the edge of my bed, still in my work clothes, staring at nothing. The silence felt different now. Not peaceful like it used to be when I was waiting for his knock. Just... empty.
I kept waiting for my phone to buzz. For boots on my porch. For some sign that what we'd had mattered to him too.
It didn't come.
I was fine. Perfectly fine. The pain would go away. In fact, it wasn’t pain, it was just a dull ache at the idea of not having great sex any longer. Scrubthat, incredible sex.
Dragging my knees up to my chest, I rested my cheek on them, my eyes fixed on the door that wasn’t going to open, no matter how hard I wished for something different. It was supposed to be temporary. Convenient. Maybe we both forgot that for a while. Whatever it was, I wasn't going to beg him for anything different, anything more. I certainly wasn’t going to beg him to stay. He pulled away first. He shut me out, so that said everything about what we’d once been.
Contemplating curling up in bed and shutting everyone out for the rest of the day, I stretched out my legs and groaned.
“Fuck my life.”
Glancing through the window, I shivered at the sight of the driving rain, wondering whether I should go back to work. I’d done everything I’d needed to do for the day, having cleared my schedule for the arrival of the stallion, Obi, as I’d decided I was going to call him.
I picked up my phone to check the text that Gunner had sent to me.
