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“Nah.” I smiled slyly. “You kiss your mother with that mouth?”

“My brother is a politician. My mother swears as much as any businessperson. I’m a horsewoman who keeps acrylics on her hands to cover up all the horse dirt beneath my fingers. I’m not precious. Promise. Now, who do you think is hot? I can do an introduction.”

Her face lit up. She wanted to matchmake, but I wasn’t into that idea.

“I’m not looking to make anything messy—not until Piper goes to college.”

“You haven’t gotten laid in how long? And you’re setting yourself up for no fun for another three years?”

She did not mince words. I wasn’t used to a woman being so forward.

“I guess if I was able to have a fun hookup with no consequences—something I would never do—that would be one thing. I’m not looking to remarry or have more kids. I did that once. It was messy. And someone with kids? Messier still. I don’t think it’s fair to throw additional children into this equation. I’m not looking to have anymore—inherited or otherwise.”

“All work and no play makes life dull,” Chloe sighed. “Couldn’t be me.”

She flipped hair over her shoulder. I didn’t realize at what point she’d taken her hair down. I was used to seeing Chloe in a bun or ponytail. In golden waves, it softened her appearance. Her sweetness was in stark contrast to her snarky, dirty mouth. She was never cruel, just honest.

“I shouldn’t harp,” Chloe said. “I know having kids would make it hard. Everything should—and does—center around your kid. I get it. And running your own business is hard work.”

“It is. I’ve been doing that since before Piper was born,” I admitted. “I built a real estate business—corporate stuff—but I never wanted to end there. I didn't see her as much as I wanted. Piper’s mom loves her to death, but she has a PR firm. I should have known before we even had Piper how it would go. She’s the workaholic and always saw me as less ambitious. All I want is to live a quiet life.”

“Noted,” Chloe said. “My mom is also a workaholic. She’d fight anyone for me, but she has her own issues. I dunno. I think I want kids, but I don’t think the right situation is there.”

“Right situation?”

“I dunno. Maybe if I met the right person? I’ve never met that person, though. And honestly I could see myself choosing to have a kid on my own long before tying myself to someone like my ex who could barely work his own calendar app.”

I laughed. “Fuck. How old was he?”

“Two years older than I am—he’s thirty-six and still playing college students. He’s an actor with a baby face. Lucky bastard, but… he broke all our rules and I tired of it. I’m not broken hearted. I’m just… disappointed. And horny, but mostly disappointed. Sorry, I’m not behaving well and…” Chloe shook her head. “Ignore me.”

Thirty-four. She looked younger than she was, but still, she was a baby. I hadn’t wanted to ogle or objectify her. We had a working relationship. She was both my client and landlord. We were maybe turning into friends, but it was still business. I couldn’t help but feel she was beautiful and deserved better. That was probably just my protective streak talking.

14. NIP SLIP PART DEUX

CHLOE

Cole and Piper spent the next few days hurriedly packing and planning at the barn. I imagined this was the norm for anyone who didn’t have hired help. Per Riley, Cole was doing so much of the grooms’ work that they got a little complacent on that side of the barn. They put the fear of god into the guys, since two of those horses were mine. No trainer should be picking stalls. Cole didn’t care, though. By how Riley talked, Cole and Piper were the best boarders Riley ever had the pleasure of knowing.

The threebies thrived by the looks of it. I took a break after calling my publicist about the book tour to watch Cole work Mack. I only wanted forward movement, not a horse that gathered and came into frame. I especially didn’t expect contact out of a western trainer. Cole’s horses seemed free-flowing and slow on a loose rein. However, Cole now focused on impulsion and lifting Mack through a turn. Even at a jog, Mack used his hindquarters well, really getting under himself. I smiled, grateful about having to do less.

Cole let him out from a jog to a trot before requesting extension. Then, after another loop of the arena, Cole cued for a quick halt. He used very little rein, but got a good response. I leaned on the rail, absorbed. Cole patted Mack, praising him. He loved these horses. That showed from the first time I saw him halter one. He was always so calm and level.

Cole picked up a walk, then threw Mack into a canter. Now, my beautiful young warmblood went full giraffe. As Cole rode past, Mack took off around the arena as if a tiger was hot on his tail. Within strides, Cole reined Mack in with light contact and his seat, all the while shushing to him. They finished riding in the center with a firm stop and more neck pats.

Cole hopped off, leading Mack over to a working student waiting to take him to the hotwalker.

“He’s working out great,” I said. “Wow.”

Cole stopped and shrugged. “He’s a deadhead. Your horses are lazier than they are peppy, which I appreciate. I need him to listen at the canter. He rides like he is two horses still, but he’ll get there.”

“I am not expecting collection, just forward movement like I said.”

“Yeah, but are you telling me not to bother?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Nah. You can. How are you getting those strong stops?” I asked. “Can I steal your trade secrets?”

“It’s not patented,” Cole snickered. “If he were mine, I’d have him spur stopping. The cue for slowing is your spur.”