“I just…I wanted to apologize. I feel like we got off on the wrong foot.” Her sugary-sweet voice put me on edge, the closeness of it forcing me to step back. Why was she so close? And better yet, why had she come all the way down here just to apologize?
“Oh…kay,” I replied, stepping to the side of where I felt the heat of her to walk out of the barn. My nerves coiled tight and every inch of me felt on edge, trepidation swirling in the pit of my stomach. “Apology accepted. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I gotta meet with Quinn.”
“Why are you in such a rush?” A warm hand pressed to my chest. “I was hoping you could help me with something.”
Warning bells in my mind went off like a tornado siren. Her hand drifted lower down my abdomen.
I took a step back out of her reach, and said darkly, “I can’t help you, Georgette. Now, I’m gonna leave, and I suggest you do too before I mention something to your fiancé.”
“He’d never believe you.” The words were confident, smug even, as her hand found my chest once more.
Once more I stepped out of her grip. “Yeah, well, Quinn will believe me, and I know for a damn fact her dad will take her word over yours.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,Huxson Lane. I didn't realize how famous you are here. Your little temper tantrum is all over the news. I doubt she wants to talk to you after last night.” Suddenly I felt the heat of her right before me, and I backed up until I hit the wood of one of the stall doors. “She might not like your temper, but I wouldn’t mind taking a ride on you, cowboy.”
“Not interested, Georgette.” I tried to get around her, which was really fucking hard, being that I couldn’t fucking see, but she pushed me back to the stall door with more force than I’d expect from her.
“But I’m interested.” I’m sure that sultry voice worked on others, but it might as well have been acid on my skin.
I huffed. Well, this was just fucking great. On top of all the shit that had happened last night, now I needed to deal with this. I needed to get away from Georgette and talk to Quinn. Before this dumb bitch had the opportunity to spin some sob story, painting me as the villain. Girl was a spider, spinning webs of lies to get what she wanted.
Quinn’s dad deserved better than her.
The heat of her enveloped me in a sudden wave, followed by the firm pressure of something against my mouth. No, not something, her lips. The overwhelming taste of her lip gloss made me want to gag.
“What the fuck, Georgette?” I wiped the back of my hand over my mouth, spitting, as if I could get any lingering bit of her off me.
Shoving her out of the way, I started walking in the direction of the barn doors, but I ran into one of the fucking wheelbarrows used for mucking stalls, spilling the entire contents and stumbling over myself.
She was there in an instant like a locust. Or a spider going in for the kill. To do what, I don't know. But before she could sink her fangs in, a familiar voice called out from somewhere ahead of me, “Do not. Fucking. Touch. Him. Again.”
Chapter thirty-one
Homewrecker
Quinn
Ihadn’t slept. Shocker.And with each hour that passed by this morning, the pit of worry in my stomach only seemed to grow wider and wider. I’d worked out, showered and gotten ready, even tried to read some of my new book, but nothing could distract me from thoughts of Hux.
I was still hurt and upset at how he’d blown up at me, but more than that, I missed him. I didn’t like that I didn’t know where we stood. I shouldn’t have left like that last night, but you could argue he shouldn’t have yelled at me in front of an entire crowd. We’d both made mistakes. We both needed to take responsibility for them. I didn’t want to bother him at work though. He’d likely be riding horses right now while it was still—relatively—cool out.
By 10 AM I couldn’t take it anymore, though.
Whit was still sleeping, so I figured I’d just send her a quick text later instead of wake her up. It didn’t take a genius to know where I was headed.
I shouldn’t even have bothered with showering. By the time the barn came into view, I was dripping with sweat. Not the way I wanted to go into this conversation that was likely going to be hard and frustrating and might involve more than a few tears.
Steeling my nerves and taking a deep breath, I left the main road and strode down the path for the barn. Muffled voices echoed from within. Great, I didn’t want to interrupt him if he was busy with one of the hands or something. But then a familiar, obnoxious voice drifted on the wind. I couldn’t make out what was said, but my gut churned all the same.
Georgette.
What the hell was she doing in the ranch hands' barn? Her and Dad didn’t have any horses. And aside from the grand tour I got on the first day, I'd never once seen her out on the grounds in the last couple weeks.
Hux’s deep timbre sounded far off, but I could at least make sense of the words. “I’m not interested, Georgette.”
My stomach did a somersault, and I thought I might just throw up right there on the pavement.
“But I’m interested.”
