Page 44 of Lone Oaks Crossing


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But after the initial two weeks, his complexion had brightened, his muscles had grown stronger, and his steps had become firm and confident. Enough so that after the third week, he’d dropped almost ten pounds and felt good about taking his first ride.

Slow and steady had been the approach. Jo, along with keen-eyed Cheyenne, had supervised every moment of the process, making adjustments as Lee and the thoroughbred worked, calling out directions, recording times, and carefully checking the weather and ground conditions every morning prior to commencing any of Another Round’s workouts for the day. Lee had been equally as careful and attentive, developing a fondness for Another Round that Jo had hoped for and nurturing a special bond of trust with the thoroughbred so that they felt at ease in each other’s company.

“I knew Lee was a great rider,” Jo said. “And I knew he’d find a way to connect with Another Round. But I hadn’t anticipated him bouncing back into shape as quickly as he has.” She glanced at Brooks, noting the approving look in his eyes as he watched Lee ride. “If I had to guess, I’d say he’s impressed you as well.”

Brooks’s dark eyes met hers, warming with affection as they roved her face. “He has. I’d say trusting your judgment is the only way to go.”

Her cheeks heated at the teasing tone in his voice. “Remember that on the days I frustrate you.”

He smiled, transferring his cell phone to one hand and sliding his free one around her waist. “I’d say I’m frustrated now.”

Oh, gracious. She grinned. He was turning on the charm . . . the scoundrel. “In what way?”

“In the way that I haven’t had any time alone with you in the past month.” He dipped his head, his soft lips warm against her cool temple. “I’d kill to have you to myself for an hour. You in my arms, a glass of bourbon, and a nice view . . .”

“Oh, given those conditions . . .” She closed her eyes and leaned in, her grin growing. “I think we’d need much more than an hour.”

He moved closer, his strong chest pressing against her arm and his thick thigh brushing hers.

“But,” she said, leaning away and brushing her hand through his hair, “business needs to come first, right now.”

A low groan left his lips as he kissed the top of her head, then stepped back, allowing the crisp autumn wind to whip between them. “Forgive me. Your grandfather’s orders slipped my mind momentarily.”

Jo laughed, recalling Earl’s stern tone a month ago when they’d stood on the deck watching Lee undertake his first morning workout.

“He just wants us to have the best possible shot at winning,” she said.

Brooks sighed. “I know. And he’s right. Business should come first . . . for now.”

She propped a hand on her hip. “I’m judging from your tone that you think that’ll change at some point?”

“After the Derby.” He looked down at her, a confident gleam in his eyes. “Once we win at Churchill Downs, we’ll have all the time in the world together.”

Jo stilled as he returned his attention to the grounds, his dark eyes seeking Another Round and Lee as they ascended a hill and emerged back into view.

She didn’t doubt that Brooks was attracted to her. That he had more than a neighborly or friendly interest in her. But she’d be lying if she didn’t admit—at least to herself—that she’d noticed a change in him with each passing day since Lee had shown such improvement and devotion to his new charge.

With each of Lee and Another Round’s new accomplishments, Brooks’s energy grew more excited, eager and, in a sense . . . ruthless. It was clear he was delighting in the prospect of beating Spencer at his own game, gaining the upper hand and stealing the glory.

“Will we?” Jo asked quietly.

Facing her, Brooks tilted his head, confused. “What?”

“After the Derby, I mean. You said, win or lose, the Derby would end this rivalry you have with Spencer.”

He held her gaze silently for a few moments then said, “I’d rather win, Jo. I know win or lose were my words at the time, but if you want me to be completely honest—”

“I do.”

He nodded. “Then, I’d rather win.”

She bit her lip. “You mean, it would take a win to end it.”

He looked away, his eyes avoiding hers. “Let’s just focus on winning first, hmm? That’s what’s important right now.”

The back door of the main house opened. Frankie walked out and held the door as Earl rolled his wheelchair out onto the deck.

Brooks smiled, glancing down at her and squeezing her arm before walking away. “Let’s go show Earl Another Round’s new stats, shall we?”

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