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“It’s fine, I’m just mucking out so…” I give her a curt nod then turn to go back into the stall not wanting to waste any more time talking to her.
“I could help?” her soft voice slips through the empty stables and my heart jack hammers in my chest. Watching as she cautiously looks round the empty stables and I know it’s because of her accident. The fear she feels being around horses is unmissable. I let my eyes do a quick sweep over her body. Her thighs are covered in those tight boot legged Levi’s and all I can think about is how fucking good they would look wrapped round my waist. She has a cream roll neck sweater that has loose holes weaved through. Her dirty blonde hair is in a tight braid and all I want to do is wrap it around my fist, tugging her head back and letting my lips dust up the column of her throat. My eyes continue roaming over her, she has her old brown cowboy boots on and fuck, she looks so damn perfect it hurts me, my chest aches.
Never did I think I would see little miss spoiled princess back in her cowboy boots. Her hazel eyes glisten and are wide with anticipation, her cheeks are rosy red from the chill that is whirling through the winter air and her lips are full and parted as she waits for me to answer.
“I’ve got it, thanks. Plus, I’m pretty sure our spoiled little princess wouldn’t want any horse shit under her perfectly manicured nails now, would she?” My tone is rude and curt but the thought of being in here with her alone is too much. Too overbearing. I don’t trust myself.
Her eyes widen at the words that fall too easily off my tongue and I can see how they slice through her, hurting her in an instant. But she stands tall, shaking it off and smiling as her voice has a playful tone to it.
“Come on, I’m sure you’re busy so just let me help,” she shrugs her shoulders up and walks towards me, standing toe-to-toe for just a moment as her warm hazel eyes dance with mine. I don’t even realize when her small hand moves forward, her fingers wrapping round the fork handle and slipping it from my grasp.
“Fine.” I grunt and I loathe myself for speaking to her this way, but it’s the only way I know how to treat her. I pushed her away, listened to my dad and let her live the life she so desperately wanted. But she didn’t get the dream. She ended up injured with a broken spirit, and I wasn’t the one to do it. Her dreams broke her. Not me.
Not like how my dad said I would.
But it’s too late now. She is a perfect little city girl with the perfect fiancé living in LA.
We muck out in silence, but I don’t stop myself from peeking at her in secret every now and then. She’s too beautiful to ignore.
CHAPTERNINE
ASPEN
The last week has whizzed by in a blur. I hadn’t seen Riggs anymore after I helped him muck out the stalls in complete silence. He hasn’t been nearby so I think it’s safe to assume he is avoiding me. Conrad has been a little more present and asked if I would like to spend New Year’s Eve with him but I told him I needed a little space over the holidays. It wasn’t a lie, I did need the space. My head is fuzzy, my heart aches and I feel isolated. Trying to find my new normal is proving difficult.
To make things even more uncomfortable, I’m currently helping mom get the table ready as we have Jorge, Orla and the Rivera brothers over for Christmas dinner.
“Remind me again why we are having them over?”
“Because your dad and Jorge have had such an amazing year with work, we thought it was only right for us to host as a thank you for their custom.”
I sigh, irritation nipping away at me.
“Did you hear back from Luke?” Her question pierces my heart like a needle to a balloon and I feel the life drain out of me slowly. Licking my lips, I shake my head as I polish the plates and place them at the correct settings.
“He is just too busy with work,” the lie is getting easier to spin, not wanting to make eye contact. I know she knows I’m lying. I’m just too much of a coward to admit it out loud to her.
Dad and Austin appear, and my dad looks a little anxious. I know things have moved slightly on the missing cattle from a few ranches down and for some reason, he seems to be taking on the stress of it all. We were told a week back, I say we but I eavesdropped, but Tripp came to tell my dad that a herd of cattle had literally just disappeared. My dad has enough stress, he doesn’t need the stress of the Rivera brothers’ stuff too.
Placing the last plate, the doorbell chimes through the hallway and my mom nods for me to open the door. I groan inwardly, pulling a loose bit of hair from my face. I’m wearing a black velvet mini dress that flows from the waist and sits mid-thigh. My dirty blonde hair is down with a loose wave to it and half of it is up and clipped back with a matching black bow. Nerves drum through me. Everyone seems okay when I’ve seen them, apart from Riggs and I can’t stand it. I hate the animosity between us, the awkwardness every time one of us enters a room. He was the one that pushed me away. He was the one who didn’t show on prom night. Even when I was standing outside his house in the pouring rain, begging for him to tell me why he never came, he just left me standing outside. Alone.
He broke my heart that night and it has never fully recovered. Not even with Luke.
He may have patched it up the best he could, but pieces were still missing from my aching heart and my broken soul.
Swallowing hard, I swing the door open and plaster a wide smile on my face.
“Our girl is home,” Orla cries, pushing through the door and holding me tightly. “Oh, we have missed you sweet girl,” she chimes, stepping back and cupping my face so she can really look at me.
“Missed you too,” I just about manage with my cheeks squished between her palms.
Jorge walks in behind her and gives me a kiss on the cheek. “Merry Christmas Aspen,” handing a pie to Orla as she disappears, he then walks through the house to find my dad who hands him a glass of bourbon whilst Orla goes and helps mom in the kitchen.
Tripp walks through the door and embraces me which throws me out a little bit.
“Hey Pen,” he squeezes a little tighter.
“Hey Tripp,” I step back as he lets go, my hand still curled around the brass doorknob.
