My body tenses as his hips grind into mine again. As our fingers entwine on either side of my head.
“I love you, Jack Sutton.” My truth a murmur of a confession that I’ve been too afraid to voice.
“Thank fuck.” He groans as his lips claim mine again. As my body detonates into a million tiny fragments that I fear only he’ll be able to put back together again.
51
JACK
ME: Lauren, I need a few extra weeks. Something’s come up that requires me to be here. Evan has things covered, so it won’t affect you. Thanks for understanding.
I HIT SEND on the text and then put my phone on do not disturb to avoid her wrath.
Something’s come up, all right.
The something being I’m not ready to leave yet.
And when I do, I’ve decided to take my secrets with me.
52
TATE
“I just passed Doc Arlington. Should I ask?” Jack’s hope resonates through the connection loud and clear.
I laugh. “I was just dialing you.”
“Tate?”
“Ten, Jack! Ten out of ten pregnant mares so far.” My words are part shriek, part exclamation. If I could reach through the phone and hug him right now, I would.
“And—”
“Doc said all the mares are healthy. The fetus’ heartbeats are strong. Everything is textbook.” I am talking too fast, but the excitement, the relief, is like a flood breaking a levee, allowing the hope that I’ve been holding back for months to finally spill over. “She’ll be back next week to check the second batch of mares we bred.”
“Whew.” He sighs in relief, and I can hear his smile in his voice. “Things are looking up, Knox. Two foals born last week. The ten left from last year’s heat to be born any day . . . and it looks to me like we’re going to have a busy time next spring with all these new ones from Steely.”
We’re.
I hear the pronoun and even the parts of me that know it’s unintentional seek to hold on to the hope that it is.
In reality, I’m going to have a busy time next spring, not we’re. I’m too excited to go down that road, though.
“Things are definitely looking up.” I feel like shouting my excitement to the open sky, but I settle for grinning so hard my cheeks hurt. “You should probably call Pete and tell him the good news about the ultrasounds.”
“I think you should do the honors, Tate,” he murmurs.
I open my mouth to refute him but then stop myself. He’s prepping me for when he won’t be here because, up until this point, he’s been Pete’s only point of contact, soon it will be me.
I won’t let it dampen my mood. Can’t.
Because he loves me.
He said so himself.
That has to be enough.
It has to be.
I let out a raucous laugh because I just can’t keep it in anymore, and the sound is so powerful that it pulls one from him. God, it feels so good to have some of the worry gone.
The crunch of gravel at the entrance to the ranch draws my attention. It comes with a squeal of tires, but when I look across the field and see Will with the farrier, I know it isn’t him.
“I think a delivery’s here,” I say absently, distracted by how fast the car is coming up the drive. By the skid of its tires on the gravel as the driver slams on the brakes.
“Delivery?”
“Not sure.” I take a step toward the car and the person who seems to have their head resting on the steering wheel. “I have to go check.”
“’Kay. I’m just around the corner. Be there in five.”
I take another step closer to the car, cautious and curious.
“Can I help you?” I call out to the woman at the same time as she flings the car door open so hard that it hits the fence rail she parked next to.
There is an almost listless laugh that’s followed by some muttered curses as she half slides, half falls from the car.
“How can you live in this godforsaken place?” she shouts as she stumbles, the open door catching her before she falls. She steadies herself and shakes her head as if to clear it before taking her time to turn to me.
Dramatic, much?
“Can I help you?” I repeat, clearly concerned by how this woman, who appears to be three sheets to the wind, was able to drive a car. She definitely took a wrong turn, but thank God, she pulled in here. If she hadn’t, she’d be on the road going head to head with Jack.
The crunch of metal from my own accident has me absently running a hand over my shoulder and shivering.
Her eyes narrow as she takes me in, and her laugh is as unexpected as it is loud when she throws her head back and emits it. “Jesus fucking Christ. It makes soooo much sense now,” she says, each word a drawn-out slur.
“Miss?” I take another step toward her. “Are you okay? Have you been drinking?”
“What would give you that idea?” She gesticulates wildly, her smile wide but bordering on unhinged.
“How fast you zoomed in here. How you’re slurring your words.”
Another laugh that goes as unreciprocated as her first one did. “Aren’t you cute?” She scrunches her nose as she studies me. “And for the record, I don’t slur my words. I just prefer to talk in cursive.” A lift of her eyebrows. A visual challenge for me to push her on this.
I will let her say whatever crazy things she wants so long as she doesn’t climb back behind the wheel again.
She steps out from behind the door, her gait unsteady, but her eyes are sharp somehow. She looks like she stepped out of a fashion magazine with her designer clothes and Italian leather boots. Her blonde hair is pulled back into a fancy ponytail, and there are numerous diamonds adorning her fingers.
“Do I know you?” I ask.
Her smile is arrogant and looks familiar, but I can’t exactly place it.
I breathe a small sigh of relief when I see Jack’s truck on the stretch of road leading to the turnoff for the ranch. This drunk woman may seem harmless, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t make me uneasy.
The cluck of her tongue and her scrutiny draws my attention back to her.
“He just had to have you, didn’t he? He couldn’t keep his hands to himself. Like father, like son, apparently. Expectations and tough love for one of them, unconditional and immediate love for the other. So, of course, he came here and made sure to leave his mark on you,” she says as if I’m able to follow her crazy. “Of course, he had to have the ultimate fuck you.”
“He? Him? I’m sorry, but I think you’re mistaking me for someone else.”
Jack’s truck turns onto the driveway, the dust that just settled from her arrival now stirred back up.
“Nope. I know exactly who you are, Tatum Knox. You’re a sweet little thing, aren’t you?” A smile. “My Jack-Jack,” she says with a shake of her head, and for the briefest of seconds, I think she’s Jack’s wife. But before the panic sets in wholly, she continues. “My brother comes off like a sheep, but don’t be fooled, he’s a wolf underneath. Cunning, vindictive, and apparently, territorial considering the way he’s staked his claim on you. That’s the one thing our father never expected him to be when the promise was made.”