Toffee flicks her tail, completely unbothered.
Catalina’s wheezing so hard she can barely breathe, leaning against the stall door for support.
I shake my head, still chuckling, and clap a hand on Maverick’s shoulder. “That’s what you get for runnin’ your mouth in my barn. Even the horses are sick of your shit.”
He glares at me, indignant, then glares at Catalina when she keeps laughing. “You’re both terrible people.”
Catalina hiccups through her laughter, wiping her eyes. “And yet you keep coming back.”
Maverick points at Toffee. “This isn’t over. She drew first blood.”
Hours pass, and Maverick hasn’t shut up since he got here.
He’s pacing the barn aisle, gesturing with his hands, ranting about “unprovoked horse violence” and how he’s going to need stitches, a tetanus shot, maybe even counseling.
Catalina’s still half-crying with laughter, bent over her pitchfork. “You’re so dramatic!” she wheezes.
“I’m dramatic?” Maverick claps a hand to his chest. “I was viciously attacked, Catalina. If this were the NFL, Toffee would be ejected for unsportsmanlike conduct.”
“Toffee’s a horse,” she fires back, snorting.
He ignores her, launching into another tirade about animal rights, barn safety codes, and how he’s going to “contact someone” about this injustice.
I pinch the bridge of my nose, sighing. “Mav.”
“What?” He whirls on me, eyes wide, grinning like he knows he’s gotten under my skin. “I’m just saying. I’m an asset to this family. The franchise quarterback, the golden child, the?—”
That’s it.
Without a word, I slide the stall latch. Toffee steps out, ears flicking, tail swishing, and locks onto Maverick.
His grin falters. “Uh… what are you doing?”
“Evenin’ the score,” I mutter, leaning against the post.
Toffee tosses her head once, then charges.
“SHIT!” Maverick yelps, bolting down the barn aisle with his arms flailing. “CARTER! CALL HER OFF! SHE’S GOT MURDER IN HER EYES!”
Catalina shrieks with laughter, dropping her pitchfork and clutching the stall rail for support. “Run, quarterback, run!”
Maverick darts left, Toffee right on his heels, nipping at the back of his jeans as he screams. “I’M TOO PRETTY TO DIE!”
I cross my arms, grinning as I watch him sprint past the hay bales. “She’s just playin’.”
“PLAYIN’?! She’s trying to kill me!” he yells, ducking around the tack trunk, Toffee hot on his trail.
Catalina can’t even breathe, doubled over with tears streaming down her face. “This is the best day of my life!”
Toffee finally slows, satisfied, flicking her tail as Maverick collapses onto a hay bale, wheezing.
I walk over, patting her neck. “Good girl.”
Maverick glares at me through sweat-drenched hair, chest pounding. “You’re sick. Both of you. I’m filing for emancipation from this family.”
CHAPTER 10
Catalina
