Telling me to leave while I can before I hurt her any further.

  The pictures allow me to see him through Tate’s eyes. The little details only someone you’re with might notice like the nuance in your posture or the laughter dancing in someone’s eyes when they don’t think anyone is watching.

  It fucking kills me to know he loved her first.

  It’s stupid to expect her to get rid of them just because she’s with me. It’s ridiculous to want her to throw away memories of her old life—even when that old life was based on lies and mistruths.

  They were married for years. She was going to have his baby.

  The lead weight in my stomach weighs heavily and forces me to take a step back. I’m invading her privacy just by lingering in here.

  “Fuck,” I mutter, forcing myself to leave the images where they are instead of trashing them like I want to and walk from the room before shutting the door softly behind me.

  Gracie’s tail thumps again, but she doesn’t move from her spot beside Tate.

  I should leave.

  I should head to the bunkhouse and finish shit up for tomorrow’s impending arrival.

  I should go take a shower.

  Instead, I sink down on the couch next to Tate. When I put my arm around her shoulders, she turns into me as if it’s as natural as breathing, to rest her head against my chest.

  “I love you,” she murmurs so softly I almost don’t hear it.

  Almost.

  “I know,” I murmur into the top of her head before I press a kiss there, knowing full well it’s her sleep talking.

  It’s her dreams murmuring.

  It’s her wild speaking.

  37

  TATE

  “You sure you’ve been here this whole time?” the head guy from Steely Brothers asks as he walks toward me.

  I nod slowly, still playing the game. “Yes. We’ve been here almost seven years, Pete. I understand Hickman is more established, but I think our horses can offer the same, if not better, quality foals than what they’re providing you,” I say, hoping I’m saying the right things.

  Be confident but not arrogant. That is how Jack told me I needed to be when I was speaking to these men.

  “And, hopefully, some circuit winners in there too.” He laughs.

  “I only provide the quality,” I tease. “It’s up to you to train the rest.”

  His laugh rings out as he steps into the stable to look around and I hang back.

  “Let them look without being their shadow.”

  He warned me that if I hover, they might think I’m trying to hide things.

  I argued that he should be the one doing this, but he just reminded me that I was the owner so it had to be me escorting Pete around the property. It should be me selling the merits of my ranch, not my employee.

  “It’s the personal touch they are looking for. You doing this will give that to them.”

  The two monolith-sized horse trailers look so out of place and, yet, so perfect parked in the drive. I watch Jack and Will assist Pete’s employees unload the horses and bring them to the stables opposite of our mares.

  The constant dancing on their feet and the brays, which are loud and vibrant, tell me that the studs can smell the females.

  “Your horses are beautiful,” I murmur as I lean down and pet Gracie’s head beside me.

  “As are yours.”

  Across the distance of the pasture, I meet Jack’s gaze. It’s only for a fleeting second, but there’s something in his expression—pride, maybe—that makes me stand a little taller.

  “Shall we?” I ask.

  We continue the tour around the ranch as the others finish unloading the studs and park the equine carriers in the empty field for storage. I patiently answer every question Pete has. I diligently find the answers to the ones I don’t know without trying to be defensive.

  The whistle that we’re about to officially start this union pulls our attention to where the workers have gathered near the breeding pens, and we move in their direction.

  “Everything to your liking?” Jack asks as we approach.

  “Just like you promised,” Pete says and then smiles when Will leads Cali into the breeding pen. She’s antsy and fights him some, but only because she’s caught a whiff of the scent of one of the stallions that Cory, one of the workers from Steely Brothers, is walking across the distance.

  “Nothing like jumping right into things, huh?” Pete says with a laugh.

  “Cali presented,” Jack says as she dances some more on her feet before squatting a bit and urinating.

  “Yes, she sure is,” Pete says while Cory fights to control the sire, who had taken note of Cali. Pete reaches out and shakes Jack’s hand and then mine as the gate is shut so the two horses are locked in together. “Here we go.”

  It’s a delicate dance as the horses move around each other.

  It’s carnal and animalistic and, at the same time, clinical.

  I catch Jack’s glance and his slight nod as the stallion approaches Cali and she bucks away.

  Almost as if she knows what is coming next.

  Almost as if she knows she can’t escape him.

  Almost as if she knows after him, she’ll never be the same.

  Her life will forever be changed.

  38

  TATE

  The lights burn bright in the bunkhouse. Laughter rings out more often than not and floats through the still night air.

  It’s as welcome of a sound as it is lonely.

  Because so long as it’s happening, Jack’s there. He’s doing his job schmoozing and entertaining the men from Steely instead of being here at the house with me.

  He’s doing what I hired him to do.

  I take a sip of wine and close my eyes as the cool breeze hits my cheeks.

  I miss him.

  It’s why I’m sitting on the porch swing at eleven o’clock at night instead of sleeping.

  Hell, maybe I’ve gotten so used to sharing my little victories with Jack that I’m just waiting here to share today with him like has become our norm.

  Maybe, more than anything, I want to tell him that I finally get it.

  The it being what it feels like to see something I’ve worked so hard for flourish. Sweat and tears and grime and grit and a whole hell of a lot of determination has taught me that I actually love this place. I haven’t ever felt that before.

  But sitting here with the men laughing, the night air around me, a little piece of my heart lost but found, and a small taste of success on my tongue, I now know what it feels like.

  I now know it’s a feeling that was and still is worth fighting for.

  Funny thing, I thought there was only one it to get, but when a whoop over winning a hand in the poker game they’re playing reaches me, I realize there are two. The second it I finally get is what it feels like to have someone at your side who wants you to be a part of every single victory no matter how small it is.

  It’s a foreign feeling to me.

  I recall Jack’s glances today. The soft touches he’d give me that went unnoticed. Little things to tell me he was proud while never trying to steal my thunder.

  He wants me to be part of every step and involved in every decision. It’s a heady feeling that is powerful and rewarding all at the same time.

  My phone vibrates on the table beside me. I pick it up, not knowing who would be texting me so late.

  JACK: You did well today.

  Pride swells within me and tears blur my visions. I really needed to hear his voice, but this is the next closest thing to it.

  ME: Thanks to you. This is all because of you, Jack. Thank you.

  I send the text and imagine him checking his phone while the beer and jokes flow around that table.

  JACK: Good night. Tell Gracie not to get too comfortable.

  I smile and know the dog is going to love getting to sleep in Jack’s usual place in the bed beside me.

  Standing, I take one last look at the lights burning in the bunkhouse before Gracie and I head inside.

  Maybe them being here is for the best.

  I’m getting a little too used to him being beside me.

  In three months’ time, he’ll be gone, and I’ll be, what? Devastated? Better off because of the time I spent with him? Heartbroken?

  Maybe a bit of all three.

  And definitely a lot of one.

  39

  TATE

  “So far, we’ve had six of your forty present. We’ve introduced them to their designated stud twice and let them do their thing,” Cory says as he gestures to the whiteboard the men have set up to keep track of all of the combinations and pairings of our mares and their stallions.

  “That’s . . . great.” My response is hesitant because I’m still trying to process all that has happened in the last week.

  Nonstop.

  That’s the only word I can think of to describe it. I feel like I’m putting on a dog-and-pony show, and I’m the dog while Jack is the pony.

  If the men go to the bar, Jack accompanies them so he can play defense against the Lone Star residents bad-mouthing the ranch or me.

  It’s as if we’re on a constant vigil, and hell if I’m not expecting Rusty to come careening down the driveway at any moment to report another complaint. Even worse, I’m fearful of being served my notice that we are officially beginning the foreclosure process. Neither the complaints nor being served would look good to Pete.

  And I really need this to look good to Pete.

  Steely agreeing to a long-term contract would give me a steady income for the next few years. It would mean I’d be willing to possibly sell a few more things off if I knew I had some guaranteed income coming down the pipeline.

  It would mean I would be able to keep this ranch, my house . . . this life I fell into and wasn’t sure I wanted but now don’t want to walk away from.

  “Right?” Cory asks.

  “I’m sorry, what was that?” I ask, hating that I wasn’t paying attention.

  “That all of this is looking rather positive.”

  “It is. Yes. It’s just . . .”

  “A lot.” He shrugs unapologetically. “We can be a little overwhelming. The boys and I don’t get out much, so fresh scenery to look at, some new bars to frequent, and some new horses to mate . . . hell, it’s like we’re kids in a candy store.”

  “Be my guest.” I laugh and shake my head. “Enjoy yourselves while you’re here.” I take a few steps back and casually check the area to make sure no one is close by. “You mentioned you know Jack. Do you guys go way back?”

  He snorts. “It seems like everyone goes way back with Jack but no one can really remember from where.” He tosses the eraser he’s holding onto the table and perches on the edge of a stool. “That’s just Jack. He knows everyone and can convince anyone to believe what he needs them to in order to get the job done.” He points to the board. “Case in point, us being here instead of at Hickman Ranch where we’ve done business for the past ten years.”

  “Lucky for me,” I murmur. “I’m going to go check on a few things.”

  “You know where I’ll be,” he says with a wink.

  Striding out of the stable with Gracie on my heels, I head toward the main house to grab the vet records that Pete asked for earlier. I cut through the mares’ stables and bite back a yelp when a hand closes over my mouth and I’m pulled back into an empty stall.

  Just as quickly as the stall door is kicked shut behind us, Jack has me spun around and his lips are on mine. They brand me with a desperation I feel so deep in my bones that all I can think of is how damn much I’ve missed him. Missed this.

  The heat of his body and the strength humming beneath it. The taste of his kiss and the scrape of his goatee.

  “Tate.” My name is a long, drawn-out groan between kisses as his hand kneads my breast through my shirt while my hand cups his cock through his denim. “Do you have any idea how fucking badly I’ve missed you?” He might as well have growled the words with all the grit and heat they carry. “Do you know how hard I am every goddamn night needing you?”

  A nip on my lips. A tug on the button of my pants. The grunt as he slips his fingers inside my waistband and slides them between my lips to find me wet.

  And, hell, he hasn’t done more than kiss me, but it’s all I need. Jack Sutton has reduced me to a woman who becomes wet on command. Whose body reacts at the thought of him.

  “Fuck, you’re sexy.”

  His lips swallow my gasp as our bodies collide into the wall at my back, his fingers moving, my body thrumming. His teeth scrape over my collarbone at the same time he plunges his fingers inside me before sliding out to coat my clit. He repeats the motion over and over until my body is strung so goddamn tight that I feel a grenade detonating when the orgasm slams into me.

  “Come for me, Tate,” he commands not knowing it doesn’t matter if he says it or not, because there is no stopping this.

  My knees buckle. My hips buck into his hand as his other covers my mouth to muffle my moan that sounds like sex personified.

  There’s something about the moment and the desire that’s too prevalent in his eyes, that makes repaying the debt all I can think about. All I can focus on is how I want to taste him. How I want to pleasure him.

  When I drop to my knees, his groan fills the stall, and I haven’t even touched him yet. But within seconds, his cock fills my mouth. Our eyes meet, gray to brown, as his face pulls tight with pleasure. Moments after that, his hand holds the back of my head as he slides all the way to the back of my throat. He keeps it there as long as I can hold it before gagging slightly on him.

  The taste of his precum hits my tongue when I back off it. His fingers tighten in my hair, his restraint hanging by a thread.

  “You seen Sutton?” someone asks right outside the stall, and I freeze in shock, stopping my own muffled gasp before it can escape around the suction I have on his cock.

  But Jack doesn’t let me move. His cock is thick and heavy in my mouth as a full-on conversation is being held outside of where we are.

  “I thought he was in here somewhere,” Will says.

  He doesn’t release the hold he has on my head.

  “I just saw him come in here.”

  He doesn’t move his hips back so I can let him fall out of my mouth.

  “Yeah. I think he was grabbing something for Tate,” Will says, their feet shuffling over the concrete floors.

  He pushes a little deeper, and his thighs tense beneath my hands.

  “Tate. Mmm. She isn’t a hardship to look at,” the other guy says as their feet stop.

  Then he slowly slides back out until just the tip of him is in my mouth before starting the process all over again.

  “C’mon,” Will says, not responding to the other guy’s comment. “He’s probably over with Ruby.”

  As their footsteps fade, Jack begins moving a little faster, a little harder, until his controlled groans fill the stable.

  Until the hot spurt of his cum shoots down the back of my throat.

  “Jesus Christ, Tate,” he murmurs when he looks down at me, hand beneath my chin tilting my face up to his. He leans over and presses a kiss squarely on my lips. “Next time, it’s you who gets to be tasted.”

  40

  JACK

  “Pick up, old man,” I mutter as the phone rings for the fourth time.

  “You’ve reached Evan with Sutton Ranch. I’m out steering cattle. Call you back later.” The beep follows after his voice.

  “Hey, Evan. Just checking to see how everything is going with the ranch . . . and with Lauren. Last night, I had to beg her to call her sponsor. She was upset and frantic and I talked her off the ledge, but I wanted to see if you could check on her for me. I’m sorry I keep asking. I know it isn’t your problem, but I’m still buttoning up the stuff I needed to do here. I’ll be back before the season starts. You have my word.”

  I end the call and sink back into my bunk. The cigar smoke swirls outside my room. The ballgame on the television drones on. The outbursts from the guys winning a hand in the poker game they’ve got going come sporadically.

  Shit, if I’m not exhausted.

  Twelve days of all-out with these fuckers.

  Twelve days of sneaking moments with Tate.

  Twelve days of realizing I lied to Lauren. I am falling for Tate—hell, I might have already fallen for her.

  There isn’t a single thing I can do to fix this or save it.

  Not one.

  The only thing I can do is figure out how to walk away and leave the smallest ripple possible.

  I’ve been lying to Tate since day one.

  Fucking lying, and I know it’s something she won’t forgive.

  “Christ,” I groan, push up from the bunk, and slam my way out of the room.

  “Shit. We woke the sleeping bear,” Cory says with a slurred laugh and Pete looks my way from beneath his hat as he tries to hide his nonexistent poker face.

  “Where the fuck you going?” Garret, one of the other helpers, shouts.

  “You guys are killing my game. A man’s gotta get laid sometime.” I grab my keys as they hoot and holler.

  “I bet it’s that redhead down at the bar. Vivian? Violet? What the fuck’s her name?” Cory asks.

  I stop at the door and toss them a cocky grin. “Does it really matter? It isn’t like I’m going to remember by the morning.”

  Their laughter and shouts of encouragement carry through the door when I shut it and strut toward my truck. I climb in and rev the engine before driving just beyond the gate of the ranch and parking on the road by the small grove of trees.

  My jog back up the gravel path is quick, and my fist banging on Tate’s door is even quicker.

  The light flicks on in the hallway as her feet fall on the hardwood floor within.