Page 64

I didn’t question him. I didn’t even panic because I sensed he had real feelings. I merely smiled and kissed the palm of his hand.

“Want to grab a burger?” I asked.

“I’d love to,” he answered.

It wasn’t quite a date, but it also wasn’t not a date. I told myself I’d think about the consequences in the morning, but for tonight, I’d bask in the hot sex with a very demanding cowboy who only wanted to please me.

26. OPEN SEASON

CHLOE

Cole grinned as he dusted my fancy show boots, head shaking. We finally made it to the warm-up in Southeast Wisconsin at a “low risk” open stock breed show. We spent the morning preparing the horses to ride out and now we were in warmup, manes banded and horses slicked out. Opal looked like a million bucks. I still felt more passenger than rider, but I had a series of classes to warm up—first Western pleasure, then horsemanship, and a switch to hunt seat before my western riding debut.

“Look, if I get to have fun with this, I’m going to look fabulous,” I said. “And it is⁠—”

“I know you’re helping me too, princess,” he chuckled while finishing my second boot, then said sweetly, “and I appreciate all you do. You should enjoy this because you’ve worked so hard, Chloe. And you’re doing me a huge solid today.”

“It’s fun. And we’re both getting something out of it.”

His eyes lingered too long. “It’s more than that.”

“Cole!” Cole’s brother Kevin called. “I need your help with that mouthy greenie.”

“Joy?” I tried cutting the tension and looked at him a little less like he was everything.

“Indeed.” Cole turned. “I’m coming, Kev!”

“I’m good,” I sensed Cole needed that confirmation.

His gaze once more settled on me. “You are. You’re beautiful and you’ll be great.”

I was stunned by his admission, but I let him go without the words to reply. It wasn’t what he said as much as how he said it. I couldn’t explain why or how everything changed, but it had. Yes, we’d had another clandestine hookup where I rode his face to completion before Piper came home from a friend’s house, but I could tell for the second time it pained him to leave without a cuddle. Sadly, I couldn’t concentrate on that. I had to refocus.

Feeling Jerry’s eyes as he recorded content with the speedy new camera I’d bought, I smiled, waved, and joined the well-heeled herd of riders in this “open show”. For me, that meant easy classes and taking greenies along. We’d brought Mack for a warm-up, and he’d already done well that morning. So, as she picked up an easy jog with Opal, I knew we weren’t in Kansas anymore.

Cole wasn’t lying when he said this show brought in money. If this was your average open stock-breed show, then the investment from tack to clothes definitely raised the cost of entry for weekend warriors. Money wasn’t ability. Despite the cries of my detractors—no, you could not buy talent, and a hot, high-quality horse required a good rider. Still, a simple entry-level hunter turnout was a fraction of the cost of a competitive western show look.

“Mother of God,” I groaned to Opal.

Her ears flicked back as I spoke, but she remained calm.

Across the arena, a pair with big hair and tail extensions struggled. An outhorsed girl aboard a big bay panicked at every transition. The girl seesawed the horse’s mouth when asking for a lope, confusing the mare with a mix of conflicting cues. I knew from Cole’s barking at a student forcing their horse into a false frame that this wasn’t a western technique. It was terrible riding. Cole and I agreed on this. Such riding was also unacceptable in a dressage warmup, too.

The trainer continued to bark orders from the rail, further distracting the unconfident but annoyed rider. She passed too close every time she loped by. I glared, trying to send a message, but it went without recognition. Saintly Opal ignored the mare, but I knew Mack wouldn’t. He would have taken off like a shot or nailed her with his massive hooves.

The girl passed again, her horse finally meeting her limit, voicing displeasure with a buck and kick. I felt it coming, but I couldn’t go anywhere at my nice jog. I was hard against the rail, bracing for impact. The horse’s shoe caught my upper thigh, scuffing Piper’s chaps and hurting like hell. Of course, I wasn’t worried about that. Instead, I was worried about my mount.

I rushed Opal to the center, shouting at the trainer who had now crawled in to intervene with his out-of-control pair.

“Hey, your girl’s horse just tagged me. My horse better be okay!” I shouted, annoyed.

All of this was caught on tape, so I tried to control myself. A videographer followed us all day—something Cole loathed but played along with. All press was good press.

“She’s… the horse is new.”

I rolled my eyes, sliding off Opal and looking over her shoulder. By some sort of miracle, she was fine. I breathed a sigh of relief as Cole raced over.

“She’s fine. I’m sorry. I had nowhere to go⁠—”