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“Drawn to. That’s all they could be, right?” She pushed her hands through her hair and pulled out another piece of straw. Side effect of being talked into the hay loft in the stables for a super fast quickie after their morning ride. “What if it’s more, Charli?”
Her best friend didn’t reply, giving her all the answer she needed.
It can’t be more. Not with them. Not with them and you.
She tossed the straw in the trash, picked up her tote bag, and went out to the front to get to work.
* * *
“That’s it, Jenny. Keep your back straight. Knees in,” Colt called across the paddock. The tiny blond eight-year-old did as he said and he smiled. “Great work. Your form’s already improving. Miss Emmy will be here if you have any questions for the next few minutes, okay?” He glanced at Jenny’s mother, standing beside him at the fence. “I just need to run in and grab a drink. This heat is killing me. Be right back.”
“Oh, no worries. Jenny’s doing great, isn’t she?”
“She is.” His smile grew as he studied one of his newest students. “She’s a natural.” He glanced at her mother. He’d gone to high school with Rita Whittaker—Johnson back then—what felt like a lifetime ago. They’d never talked much, but in a small town, you knew everybody.
And everybody knew you, for good or bad.
“You know, you should give lessons a whirl sometime,” he said. “See if the talent runs in the genes.”
“Oh, Colton. You’re too kind. But then your kind of special attention is exactly why I signed Jenny up for lessons here.” Rita laughed and patted her hair. The white strip around the fourth finger of her left hand reminded him all too well that she was newly divorced.
Danger, Colt Bennett. Abort flirting. Abort flirting now.
He hadn’t even really been flirting. Not exactly. It was second nature to him and meant less than nothing. It wasn’t as if he was trying to score a hookup. He enjoyed making women feel good even if he never saw them again. Plenty of people thought that made him a player, but his most common form of “playing” simply consisted of giving a woman an extra boost.
Because he’d given them a little special attention. Jesus.
“Yes, well, think about lessons, okay? I’m going in for that drink now. Would you like anything?”
“No, I’m nice and wet.” She giggled. “My mouth, I mean.”
Oh Lord. This one didn’t need a boost. She’d obviously come pre-boosted.
“All right then. Be back soon.”
She gave him a little smile and a wink. “I’ll wait right here for you.”
He didn’t smile back. The last thing he wanted to do was lead her on. He was involved—very much involved—with two people he truly cared about. Word spread like wildfire in small towns, and he’d be damned if he did anything to light a match. With his reputation as a ladies’ man, it wouldn’t take much.
Crossing the lawn to the back steps of the ranch, he waved to a few of the stablehands and a new couple who’d brought their five-year-old to start lessons. They had a separate smaller building for the horse training business, though it was mainly used for office space and to meet with new clients. More often than not, they were informal enough to invite people into their kitchen to get a drink or snack. Quinn wasn’t the usual town. The people there were some of the best that could be found, if he said so himself.
But sometimes that closeness was the very thing to tighten a noose around someone’s neck.
The curse of trying to change things up, he supposed as he opened the back door and headed into the kitchen. Status quo was no longer good enough.
He opened the refrigerator and pulled out the jug of fresh lemonade Miss Emmy had made that morning. It was hot as blazes outside, close to ninety-five. So much for fall. He poured a glass and took a long drink, then gave in to the urge to roll up his T-shirt to rub the cold glass over his stomach. A groan slipped out and he glanced up to see Drake watching him from the doorway, his expression unreadable.
Colt’s groin tightened. There was no other way to describe it. He didn’t immediately start getting hard like he would’ve had Paige been standing there, but his nerve endings fired and his cock definitely woke up.
It was just because Drake was a reminder of everything they’d shared with Paige. How could he not be?
Another memory stirred, one equally fresh. Drake on his knees in front of him, taking his erection in his mouth. Cupping his balls, staring him down, demanding he come though he never spoke a single goddamned word.
Like right now.
Colt turned away. He started to speak, to play it off as if this was any other day. Nothing had changed. They were business partners and best friends. They’d been friends since his NFL days, when a late-night drinking binge and a random meet at a local bar had left them trading football stats and stories about women. A few months later, when Colt had been cut from the NFL and talked of moving back home to start some kind of business working with horses, Drake had immediately offered to move back with him. He wasn’t happy in North Carolina, and he had relatives in Texas. He’d always loved horses. They were both at loose ends, so why not?
