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“You’re a pig.” The words just come tumbling out, and Monty continues to laugh until he realizes I’m serious.
His face falls, and he leans forward over the table, lowering his voice like he’s suddenly concerned about being overheard. “What’s your fucking problem?”
I press my hands to the table and stand up. “You. You’re my problem. You stroll in here whining about sheets like some spoiled toddler, you treat the staff like they aren’t human beings, and you act like I’m some kind of circus sideshow. Not to mention you almost got me killed by a horse today and—”
“That fucking beast didn’t even touch you,” he interrupts through clenched teeth. “And Flor fell on her own. I was too far away to touch the thing.”
My suspicion solidifies in my gut because I didn’t even mention Flor. “What did you do?”
“Nothing,” he says, then makes a huffing sound that sets my teeth on edge. “It’s not my fault she can’t hold on to a jumpy horse. Jesus, you bitches are all the same.”
“The only bitch here is you.” I throw my chair back, shooting an apologetic glance over to the bartender. I want to tell him to cancel my order or maybe send it to my room. I want to tell him sorry for this asshole, like somehow, I’m the reason he’s here.
But I can’t seem to make myself say a word.
I’m shaking and on the verge of tears, and there’s no fucking way I’m going to let this piece of shit see me cry. I storm toward the lobby and say a prayer he doesn’t follow me, and then I rush outside. There’s wind enough to damn near knock me over, but no rain yet, though the scent of it is heavy on the breeze.
The path is dimly lit by tall lampposts, and I use that to make my way to the stables without really thinking. The door is shut, but it’s unlocked, and I know I’m not supposed to be in there, but it’s the one place Monty won’t come looking for me—if he bothers at all.
Stepping inside, I breathe a sigh of relief at the warmth, and the walls are thick enough that I can barely hear the wind beating against them. Each horse is carefully locked behind a door, but the stalls are low enough I can see over them. The black horse is casually chewing on a bit of hay, and I pause by his door to watch him. It’s strange to think this beast almost crushed me, but I can’t bring myself to feel anything other than pity because it wasn’t his fault.
After a few minutes, I make my way down to the last stall, where I find Clover. She seems to have sensed me because she’s got her head over the wall, and the moment I walk up, she nuzzles my hair. It’s like a giant dog with scary teeth, and my heart’s hammering in my chest, but I still manage to find the courage to reach up and pet her.
Her hair is fine and bristly, and I give her a scratch that makes her snort. She nips at me a bit, and I jump.
“She won’t hurt you.”
My heart flies into my throat at the sound of a deep, masculine voice. I want to turn, but Clover kind of has me pinned by the shoulder, so I listen to the footsteps coming toward me.
“You know, guests aren’t supposed to be here,” the man repeats. He’s definitely not Miguel, and I don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing.
“I know. I’m sorry. I just… needed a place to hide.”
“Are you alright?” he asks. He makes a clicking noise with his tongue, and Clover finally lifts off me, which allows me to turn and… oh shit. Holyshit.
My face flushes hard, and I feel a weird numbness in my fingers and toes because this is the guy from the general store. The superhot mountain man who stared me down, then left without saying a word. I swallow thickly and almost laugh because ofcoursehe works here. He must be another one of the horse trainers or something, judging by the state of the mud on his riding boots.
He’s just as good-looking as before, his hair dark and thick, his brow furrowed, and eyes bright and inquisitive. He’s at least speaking to me now, though he looks almost as shocked as I do now that he can see my face.
I manage a high, tight laugh, running my hands over my hair and brushing at my clothes. “Hey. From the, uh… the store earlier?”
He nods, then licks his lips and finally sticks out a hand. So hedoeshave manners. “Name’s Maddox.”
“Eden,” I tell him as I press my palm against his.
His skin is warm and calloused, and oh god, his grip is so strong. I flush hotly all over. A guy like Maddox isn’t usually my type, but I’m pretty sure he could change anyone’s mind with those biceps. All I can think is that a man like this wouldn’t give two shits aboutsheets.
“The famous Eden,” he says once he pulls away.
My eyes widen. “What the hell doesthatmean?”
He chuckles, the sound low and melodic, and I kind of melt. “Heard a lot about you. You certainly charmed Miguel, and it looks like my baby too.”
I frown until I realize he’s talking about Clover, who has gone to the corner of her stall where there’s a salt lick attached to the wall. “Oh. Um… yeah. She’s one of the few things on this trip that doesn’t make me want to throw myself off the edge of the earth.”
His brow quirks, and he gives me an almost sad smile. “It’s that bad here?”
“My best friend got hurt and left me here with the biggest asshole on the planet,” I confess.
