Is it getting to the point where we start to share that?
Shit or get off the pot.
TheBigO: So, I’ve been thinking…
RacingQueen: Me too.
TheBigO: Is it time to say who we are?
RacingQueen: Almost. Not yet. A few more days of mystery. I have an idea.
Fuck.
I’m both relieved and curious.
My dick stiffens against my zipper as a million different outcomes run through my head.
TheBigO: Will I like this idea?
RacingQueen: We both will. I promise.
A mask?
Sophia
“What the fuck?” Myfists settle against my hips as I watch my horse steal more shitty alfalfa from the adjoining pen. “First I get shoved into the corner, now they feed their crappy hay close enough that Misty can reach it?” I throw up my hands and stomp past Rachel.
I swear she’s fighting a smile.“At least it isn’t grain she’s getting into.” Rachel shrugs, turning on her heel to follow me.
“April helped me come up with a very specific diet. I don’t want to screw everything up with my mare getting colic all of the sudden,” I grumble, scanning the massive livestock pens to see if I can find the lot manager.
“Delbert!” I call out loud enough that several heads turn.
But his grizzled beard also pivots to point in my direction. “Yep?” he yells back.
I wave him over, my arm looking like one of those frantic blow up characters in front of a car lot.
“Yes, Miss Sophia?” His bushy gray brows raise.
I think he got this job because of his diplomacy, not his ability.
“I need to talk to the people who have the pen next to mine. My horse is eating their feed.” My fingers flap, gesturing at him to come with me.
He falls into step, his soles of his boots thudding against the packed dirt. “I doubt they’d mind. Just toss a little back every now and then.”
“That’s not the point, Delbert.” I’m trying really hard not to get frustrated with him. “My mare is on a very strict regimen. I need you to ask them to put their feeder on the other side of the pen.”
The wrinkles around his nose deepen with his frown. “I really don’t think it’s—”
“Itisimportant,” I protest, facing him as I walk. “Please, can you just talk to—”
I bounce off a broad chest and nearly stumble backwards until I’m caught with a warm palm.
“Oliver, Miss Sophia was looking for you.” Delbert’s cheek tugs up in a hint of a smile.
Great. Just fucking great.
“Is that so?” Oliver’s dark eyes narrow as his steadying hand drops from my elbow.
