Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 84982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
“He’s not been taken out at a full race since Carmen was here two days ago,” Miller said from behind him. “And Carmen still hasn’t made the time that Capri did on him.”
I swung my gaze from Thatcher to Miller. I’d had better time than Carmen? Then, why was he the one racing and not me?
“No,” Thatcher bit out, his expression turning fierce.
“No what?” I asked him.
“You’re not taking him out at full speed.” His jaw ticced as he stared down at me.
“I don’t understand. Why not? If I’m faster on Zephyr, then—”
“No!” Thatcher snarled. “You aren’t riding a horse at that pace.”
Miller said nothing. He wasn’t going to argue with him. No one would. But me.
“Thatcher, why can’t I show you how fast he can go? We would win every race you put him in at that speed.”
He shook his head as his nostrils flared. I’d pushed him too much, and I could see the darkening about to snap. His large hand wrapped around my upper arm, and he began pulling me with him as he stalked back to the stables. Leaving Miller alone with Zephyr. I had to jog to keep up with his long strides. I was missing something here, and I couldn’t figure out what it was.
Did he not want me to win? Was he afraid I’d go race for other stables if I rode Zephyr and won?
A blonde I’d seen here before stepped out of the entrance before we made it there. Her dark blue crop top and tiny skirt, which might also just be a crop top, caused me to slow. I didn’t want to see him with someone like her. The kind that he normally had around him. She was a great big reminder of all I didn’t have. Starting with her boobs and ending with her legs that went on for days.
“Hey, Thatch,” she drawled in a syrupy-sweet voice that made me want to vomit.
He said nothing as he continued hauling me with him, as if he couldn’t get me away from the practice track fast enough.
She stepped in front of him and tilted her head to the side, causing her long blonde hair to slide down over her cleavage. “I’ve missed you.”
“Move,” he demanded.
His harsh tone seemed to startle her, and she tensed, then stepped out of his way.
“I don’t work tonight. I thought we’d play.” She tried again to get his attention.
Nothing from Thatcher.
He might be refusing to let me ride Zephyr and currently about to pull my arm out of my socket, but I smiled. I couldn’t help it. She was hard for me not to look at, and I didn’t swing that way. Thatcher ignoring her must be something she wasn’t accustomed to because her face fell. She’d not expected him to not be interested in whatever play she had in mind.
Sebastian stepped out of the office as we came barreling inside the stables. His gaze swung from his brother to me. The immediate concern drew on his face was clear. He thought I was in danger.
“Thatcher,” he called.
He didn’t respond.
“Jesus, at least slow the fuck down! She’s struggling to keep up with you!” he shouted as we turned the corner.
He heard that, apparently, because he stopped, and his eyes bored down on me. There it was. That look. The one where he appeared haunted, torn, remorseful. It took away the edge that seemed to always be in his eyes. The one that kept others back. I wondered if I was the only one to see him this way.
“Was I hurting you?” he asked. His voice hoarse.
I had to answer this carefully. “Not hurting exactly. It was just difficult to keep up. Your legs are much longer than mine.”
His eyes dropped to my legs, and he winced as if the thought pained him. He ran a hand over his head, and I noticed his breathing was hard. What had triggered this? Why was my riding Zephyr suddenly an issue? A couple of weeks ago, he’d had no problem. I’d been the only one other than him to ride his horse. Now, he seemed like the idea was making him literally ill.
He bent down, then slid his arm under my legs and picked me up. What the actual hell was he doing?
“Thatcher!”
This time, he was ignoring me as he headed toward the back entrance of the stables that led out to the parking lot.
Were we leaving?
“That’s, uh, better,” I heard Sebastian call out.
Thatcher’s arms flexed, and I heard him make a deep sound in his chest like a growl.
“Where are we going?” I asked him.
He looked at me, his eyes drifting over my face as if he was trying to memorize it. “Home.”
Home. To his house? Was that home? Because he’d made it real clear I wasn’t going back to mine. I had thought we’d discuss it once we were back here. Talk about things when he wasn’t holding a gun and calmer. We had faced the hurdle of coming back to Madison. Cleared up the search for me and the accusations that he’d been the one to take me.