As I walked back to my car, whispers of stories I’d heard over the years replayed in my head. Things I’d rolled my eyes at and chalked up to people being dramatic and bored. No. I shook my head. I was not entertaining the gossip of small-minded folks. That was ridiculous. It was the South. People had guns … maybe not all of them had them hidden on their bodies, ready to pull out at any minute like Billy the Kid, but still, it was legal … I thought.

  • Twenty-One •

  “Okay, so we’ve accomplished that Thatcher is now our jockey’s stalker.”

  Thatcher

  My father’s scowl when I entered his office was expected. I didn’t bother glancing at the others in the room as I made my way to the bar. King, Storm, Sebastian, Barrett, and Ronan were all here, which meant this wasn’t just about my shooting Christopher in the shoulder. Had to be business involved too. Good. I needed a distraction.

  “Christopher is out of surgery, and Doc said he will heal up normally,” my father stated while I poured a glass of bourbon.

  “Excellent. I was losing sleep,” I replied.

  “He was our best exercise rider,” he pointed out.

  I shrugged. “And he’s gonna heal up nicely.”

  My father narrowed his eyes. “He has decided that working here isn’t a good fit for him.”

  I didn’t give a fuck.

  Taking the seat farthest away from the others, I took a drink and waited for this to have a point.

  “Shooting a man for no reason leads to questions and issues I have to deal with,” he replied.

  That was where he was wrong. I’d had a reason. I always had a fucking reason.

  I looked at Storm. “You got a smoke?” I’d had my last one before walking into the house.

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out his pack and tossed it to me. “Keep ’em. I need to stop.”

  I caught the package and tapped one out.

  “Are you going to sit there and ignore me?” my father asked, raising his voice. The bastard got angry when he was ignored.

  “I had a reason,” I replied, lighting up before looking at him. “He did something he shouldn’t have.”

  My father leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest. “What was that?”

  King cleared his throat. I glanced at him and smirked. He was trying to stop me from telling the truth. Good ole King, worrying about me. Taking a deep pull from the cigarette, I turned my attention back to my father.

  “He’d taken the wrong crop by mistake,” I replied.

  I held my dad’s gaze as he waited for more, but that was the answer to his question.

  When it was clear that was all I was telling him, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk, and glared at me. “You shot him for that?”

  I nodded.

  King let out a heavy sigh, and I cut my gaze to his, amused by his need to explain this fully for me. He hated it when I did this, but I enjoyed the fuck out of it. Seeing my dad and the others stare at me like I was a psycho was entertainment.

  “What is he not telling me, King?” my dad asked him, appearing put out by all of it.

  King shot me an annoyed look. He didn’t like being put in the middle of shit with me and my dad, so I decided to end my fun.

  “He took Capri’s crop. She couldn’t find it. Came to get an extra from the room I was fucking in.”

  King cleared his throat again. I sighed and leaned back in my chair. He was going to make me finish this.

  “She ran out, I went to check on her, Sebastian was touching her, I made him stop, he didn’t keep his mouth shut, so I broke the chair beside him, not on him. I went back inside. Other shit happened. Christopher showed up with Capri’s crop. I was in a foul mood, so I shot him. But I didn’t shoot to kill, which is why he’s alive.”

  My dad swung his eyes to King. “You said she wouldn’t be a problem.”

  I tensed. What the fuck was he talking about?

  “I said she wouldn’t be a problem as long as we kept her.” King turned his gaze to me. “If we stop using her”—he paused—“then it will be a problem.”

  When had my father wanted to stop using Capri as our jockey? I put the cigarette out and stood up.

  “Sit down,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “She won her first race with us. We are keeping her. She’s not going to be replaced.”

  I wasn’t sure if I was eased enough to sit back down or stay in this room.

  “Someone needs to say it, so I’m going to. What happens when she rides for someone else? She’s a free agent. She doesn’t just ride for us.” Storm asked.

  I turned to him. “You know something I don’t?” I asked him, ready to go handle a problem.

  He shook his head. “No. Not yet. But you might want to think about more than just tracking her phone. You need to see her calls, see her texts, even watch her through the camera if needed.”

  “Jesus Christ,” Ronan muttered.

  “Is that the stalker shit you have on Briar’s phone?” his father asked him.

  Storm nodded.

  He was right. I needed more than just being able to physically watch her at home. I needed to know who she talked to and when. It would fix a lot of future issues.

  “When did the lot of you become psychopaths?” my father asked.

  “Don’t lump me in with those two,” Sebastian said.

  King didn’t say anything, but we all knew he was thinking the same thing.

  “Get me the info I need,” I told Storm.

  He grinned.

  “Okay, so we’ve accomplished that Thatcher is now our jockey’s stalker. What else did we need to cover today?” Barrett asked.

  “Capri,” I corrected him. “She has a name. Call her by it.”

  And I hadn’t just now become her stalker. I’d had that title for years. They probably didn’t need to know that though.

  • Twenty-Two •

  This was where I belonged, on this playing field.

  Capri

  By Friday, I was feeling better about my life or mental health, so to speak.

  I had two appointments set up next week with trainers in Tennessee and Kentucky.

  Jaiden had a friend from college in town, visiting, and I’d agreed to go on a double date with them tonight. Not only that, but I had also gone to the salon and gotten a trim and highlights. Then, I had gone and gotten a manicure and pedicure.

  Esther had convinced me to get a Brazilian wax, and she swore I’d love it after, but she’d not given me all the details. Hopefully by the time I got on a horse again, I’d be less tender down there. Doubted I was doing that one again. The pampering had been nice. I didn’t feel so plain; I even felt attractive.

  Standing in front of the mirror, I gave myself one more look, happy with the pink linen skirt I’d chosen and white top that showed off a little glimpse of my stomach without being an actual halter top. The skirt was short enough that my mother would be horrified, which was why I had bought it in the first place.

  Heels were a given with me. I hated always being the short one when I went out with a group, so I had a pretty good selection of pumps, sandals with a high heel, boots with a high heel, and wedges. Tonight, I had gone with a strappy white pair of sandals that had a four-inch heel and looked great with my hot-pink toenails.

  When I heard the knock on the door, I grabbed my silver clutch and headed out of the bedroom and to go enjoy my evening. I had kept myself so busy that thoughts of Thatcher hadn’t plagued me. I was proud of that. Putting whatever that brief moment that we’d had in the hotel behind me. Thatcher had forgotten it easily enough. I should to.

  Opening the door, I wanted to sigh in relief to see that the photos Esther had sent me of Tyron, Jaiden’s friend, were accurate. He was nice-looking. The easy smile on his face hinted at a dimple, and his blue-gray eyes with all that dark brown hair were a great combination.

  “Capri!” Esther said in her enthusiastic tone. “Meet Tyron. Tyron, this is my bestie, Capri.”

  Tyron held my gaze, still smiling, as if what he saw pleased him. He didn’t appear as if he wanted to take off running or make up an excuse to get out of this. Neither did I.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” he said in a smooth voice that held no accent. That was new for me because around here, everyone had one.

  “You too,” I replied, stepping outside onto the porch.

  “Let’s get going. We have dinner reservations in fifteen minutes, and then we are going dancing!” Esther exclaimed and clapped her hands before spinning and hurrying for the steps.

  I looked from her back to Tyron. “I just need to lock up,” I explained.

  “Of course,” he said, stepping back as I closed the door and made sure both locks were engaged before dropping my keys into my purse.

  “This is a great house. Way better than living in an apartment complex,” Tyron said.

  “I got really lucky nine years ago. You wouldn’t believe the deal I got on rent. I love this house. I could afford to pay more now, too, but the lady I rent from refuses to take more. I keep thinking I need to just buy it from her.”

  He fell into step beside me as we made our way off the porch.

  “Cost of living here is more affordable than Atlanta, and the traffic is worlds better. I’d buy it if I were you,” he said.

  I glanced up at him. “You live in Atlanta?” I asked.

  He nodded.

  I hadn’t realized he was so close. I assumed he was visiting from far away.

  “I didn’t realize that.”

  His expression looked almost shy as he glanced toward the car and back. “She told me not to tell you this, but I’m here because, well, she tagged you in a photo a few weeks back, and I saw it. Saw you. Checked out your Insta and asked her if you were single.”

  I paused. He had? And she hadn’t told me?

  “Uh-oh. Have I messed up already?” he asked me, looking truly concerned.

  I shook my head. “No, not at all. I just … I just didn’t realize you had asked for this. I thought this was Esther trying to set me up again.”

  He chuckled and shook his head. “Nope. It was me. You’re the reason I’m here.”

  I felt my cheeks go warm. He’d come here because of a photo he had seen of me. How flattering. I wasn’t the kind of girl guys asked to be set up with. At least, I hadn’t been before now.

  “I don’t know what to say,” I replied, then laughed at my own awkwardness.

  “You don’t have to say anything. I just … I didn’t want to start on a lie, you know.”

  I nodded, liking this guy more and more. When we reached the car, he opened the door for me. I climbed inside, and then he followed behind me. Jaiden had a newer Bronco, and he always wanted to take it out whenever we went. Most of the time, I wanted to drive myself so I could escape. Tonight, I was really glad I hadn’t chosen to do that. Tyron smelled nice. Clean, fresh, like soap.

  He didn’t tower over me either, although I was in heels. I would guess he was around five foot ten maybe. His frame wasn’t overwhelming and intimidating either. No broad shoulders or thick, corded arms that could hold you down. An image of Thatcher, shirtless with a towel wrapped around his waist, invaded my thoughts, and I wished I could erase that. I didn’t need it showing up and causing problems. Comparing other men to Thatcher wasn’t fair.

  I would never attract guys like Thatcher. I wasn’t in a league that they even acknowledged. But with Tyron, I felt confident. This was where I belonged, on this playing field. With those like me. Not those meant for fantasies.

  “When are you leaving next week?” Esther asked me over dinner.

  I washed my food down with a drink of water before responding, “I go to Tennessee on Tuesday, then fly from there to Kentucky on Wednesday.”

  She reached for a piece of bread. “So, you will be home on Thursday?”

  “Yes.”

  Her mouth formed into a big smile as she shifted her eyes to Tyron. “Listen to that. She will be in town next weekend.”

  “Subtle much, babe?” Jaiden said beside her.

  Esther shrugged, still grinning at Tyron.

  I glanced at him, about to reassure him that he did not need to feel pressured by her, that this was just how she was. But when his eyes met mine, he didn’t look like someone who was upset, but more … hopeful.

  “My buddy is the event manager at the arena, and I have four tickets to the Zach Bryan concert if I want them,” he told me.

  Esther adored Zach Bryan. I flicked my gaze to my pushy best friend, then back to Tyron. “Do you want them?” I asked since this was not about Esther and her wants.

  He chuckled. “If you do.”

  “She does!” Esther squealed across from me.

  I didn’t respond right away. I did like him. He was nice, easy to be around. He seemed into me. I could give it a chance. Butterflies and tingly feelings didn’t have to come instantly. They could take time. I deserved to see if this led there.

  “I’d like to go,” I said, then smiled brightly. “But can you give the other tickets to someone other than them? She’s a bit much.”

  A wadded-up napkin hit me in the side of the head as Esther hissed at me.

  Tyron nodded, leaning back in his seat and putting his arm behind my shoulders. “Yeah, I could look up some of my other friends. I’ll look for the less aggressive sort.” He played along.

  It wasn’t butterflies, but it was something. Even if the something was just friendship. I enjoyed being around him.

  My eyes snapped open, and the darkness in my bedroom told me it was still nighttime. I felt an unsettled feeling, and I lay there, not moving, afraid to. Something had woken me. I didn’t know what, but with the way I’d jolted awake so suddenly, I knew I hadn’t woken up organically. My heart started to beat faster as I strained to listen for anything. I’d locked both doors and double-checked them. If someone had gotten inside, considering the noises that would make, I’d have woken up while they were doing it.

  Maybe a bad dream that I didn’t remember had woken me. I lifted my eyes to look at the light switch and considered turning it on and looking around. There wasn’t anyone here. I was being ridiculous.

  Needing to prove it to myself, I turned onto my back and studied the darkness surrounding me. Only shadows that I recognized. Nothing alive and breathing. A car could have driven by, or a dog could have barked. Why I always had to go to someone being in the house when I woke up like this in the middle of the night, I didn’t know. Sometimes, my imagination was a pain in the ass.

  Pushing those thoughts from my head, I replayed the kiss that Tyron had given me at the door tonight. Although his breath had been minty and he had good technique, no slobbery stuff or out-of-control tongue action, it had been well done. I had enjoyed it.

  Most kisses I’d had weren’t great and were often forgettable. At least this time, I had been impressed even if I had been critiquing it when it was happening. My toes hadn’t curl, and my nipples hadn’t hardened. None of that stuff you heard about. But was that even real? Did girls just make that up for a guy’s ego or to add romance to their story?

  Reaching for my extra pillow, I groaned and covered my face. Why was it all so complicated? Perhaps I was the problem. I was too disengaged. I hadn’t been when Thatcher was asking me dirty things in my ear, but then it could have simply been the vodka in the lemon drops and not him at all. Any attractive guy could have said those things to me at the moment, and I’d have reacted the same way.

  I could test that theory or just go with it and not rock the boat. It was easy enough to accept that the alcohol had made me horny. Wasn’t that a common thing? I had to stop thinking it was Thatcher freaking Shephard that held that magical power.

  • Twenty-Three •

  “I will never join that club—I can promise you that.”

  Capri

  My phone began ringing the moment I crossed the Tennessee state line. I’d been on the road for almost three hours. I’d be in Knoxville early, but it would give me time to get some lunch before going to meet with the trainer at J&N Farm.

  Glancing down, I saw the number of the trainer I was headed to see. I pressed Accept and placed the phone to my ear.

  “Hello?”

  “Uh, Capri,” the voice said over the line.

  “Yes.”

  He cleared his throat. “I … well, we decided on another jockey. I didn’t want you to get too far this way and waste your time. Thanks for your willingness to come here, and I wish you the best of luck.”

  I slowed my speed even though I was still on the interstate. Was he really canceling hours before our meeting? When he knew I had to be on the road from Madison already?

  “Okay, thanks,” I replied, trying to mask my anger before ending the call.

  I had nothing more to say to the man. If that was how they did business, I didn’t want to work with them anyway.

  Looking for the next exit so I could stop, get something to drink, fuel up, and turn around to drive back home, I wished I’d asked him who he had chosen. I’d let him off too easy. I should have pressed more. Made him uncomfortable or at least feel some remorse for letting me drive this far before canceling.

  My phone rang again, and I snatched it up, thinking he might be calling back. The number wasn’t from Tennessee. It was from Kentucky. There was no possible way that they were canceling too. Probably just confirming tomorrow.

  I pulled off at the exit while I pressed Accept.

  “Hello?” I said brightly, not wanting my foul mood to come through the phone.

  “Capri, this is Julio Naws from Three Branches Stables,” he said as if I didn’t know who was calling.