God, he was magnificent. A fighter.
Hers.
“We’re ready.” Aidan’s gravelly voice echoed close to her ear, and she shivered, her mind whispering the same mantra when she looked at him.
Hers.
She shook her head to clear it. “Hear that, boy? It’s time to show them what you got. We love you.”
She kissed his nose and stepped back, letting him exit the stall under Aidan’s capable hands. Captain Hoof knew the drill and settled back into his pile of hay to wait for his buddy’s return. Elmo finished his meditation, and they all stood together beside Phoenix. Harper had figured she’d be jumpy with nerves and fear, but instead a peaceful strength flowed through her, and when she met each of their gazes, they shared a smile. Clasped hands for a few precious seconds. And believed.
It was everything she’d wished for. They sent Phoenix out to race in the Breeders’ Cup Juvenile Sprint with positive energy, love, and acceptance.
Twelve minutes and three seconds later, he stood in the winner’s circle as a champion.
Aidan lifted his hands up in front of him.
He was shaking.
He stood in the bathroom stall in the greatest racetrack on Earth and tried to get his shit together before he went out to face the crowds again.
Phoenix had won the race, setting an all-new record for speed. The horse had stood like an Arabian king as bulbs flashed in his face and a crown of roses was placed around his neck. There was none of the skittish fear. None of the fiery temper. He’d brought his battle straight to the racetrack and he’d won.
For the first time since Kincaid’s Crown had crossed the finish line at the Irish Derby, a sense of purpose filled Aidan. He’d been born to nurture, train, and watch a horse mature into a winner. But sharing the experience with the woman he’d fallen in love with?
Fucking priceless.
He needed to focus on the next few hours of madness. He didn’t want Harper alone for too long with the vultures. Now that the big win was behind them, things might get nasty. They’d made a name for themselves from nothing. An abused horse. An unknown farm. A foreign trainer. A jockey with no grade-three stakes wins under his belt. America might love an underdog story, but the insiders who lived and breathed within the world of horse racing might decide to do whatever was possible to stop them.
Good thing Aidan knew that nothing was stopping Phoenix.
He grinned, left the stall, and washed his hands. Swiping his fingers over his face, he stared into the mirror and reminded himself he was finally getting everything he’d ever wanted.
Redemption.
He headed back to the stables. Phoenix was happily settled, munching on iced oatmeal cookies while Captain Hoof attacked the hay. Harper was talking animatedly to her phone, so he figured she had her siblings on FaceTime to go over every last detail. He grinned and began walking over when he heard his name called.
The voice sounded too familiar. Crisp and clean, with a slight Irish brogue. Dread pooled in his gut. Trapped in a nightmare he never saw coming, Aidan slowly turned and faced the man who’d betrayed him.
Colin Flynn.
His best friend. His surrogate brother. His business partner. A man he’d drunk with, cried with, laughed with, and dreamed with. A man he’d put his trust in, only to have it ripped apart.
Even now, his blue eyes held not a shred of regret or pain. Just stared back with a cool resolve, his face chipped in stone. Money looked good on him. He’d upped his game and wore a custom-cut gray suit. His stylish hat was tipped low over his brow. With a stocky build, red hair, and pale skin, he was a favorite in Ireland—a true homeboy who brought fame and esteem to Kildare with each win. But Aidan knew the truth. Colin cared about nothing but himself and how big his name could get with his stables. His plan to become one of the most famous trainers in Ireland had taken precedence over something Aidan couldn’t have sold.
His soul.
Aidan refused to pretend to be civil and didn’t want this man near Phoenix. “What are you doing here?” he clipped out.
Colin rocked back on his heels, his sharp gaze narrowed. “Is that how you greet an old friend and partner?” he asked.
“You’re neither of those now.”
“But I was, until you made the decision to leave.”
Aidan shook his head, his laugh full of bitterness. “You always did like to rewrite history. Just tell me what the hell you’re doing here.”
“I’ve come to congratulate you, of course.” He spread his hands out in a gesture of surrender. “Only you’d be able to take an unknown horse and get him all the way to a Breeders’ Cup win. Plans for the Derby?”
“No.”
Colin chuckled. “Liar. Just be careful. You don’t get to the Triple Crown by playing it safe. That’s what ruined you before. I tried to help, but you always were stubborn. Are you sleeping with the owner? She’s quite fresh. Different than your usual type. Rachael still asks about you, by the way.”
Rage battered his body, but Aidan kept it under a tight lock. Colin knew every weakness to poke at, and for some reason, he was intent on making his presence known. But why? What was his goal?
Aidan pretended like he didn’t give a crap and assumed a bored expression. “Get tired of Ireland already? Decided to slum it for a day in the States, or do you have your eye on a new recruit?”
Those blue eyes revealed a glint of greed. “Maybe. Can’t say yet, but I received an interesting call. I decided to make the trip to research the possibility. Imagine my surprise when I find your name blowing up the papers. I guess I did a favor letting you go.”
His mind spun with the possibilities. Could Colin be stepping in to train another horse for the Derby? Or was he just trying to mess with him? Aidan opened his mouth to tell him to get the hell out, but Harper stepped up beside him with a smile on her face.
“Sorry, Ophelia and Ethan had a million questions. Hello, I’m Harper Bishop.” Assuming they were friends, she extended her hand, and Colin shook it. Aidan had to bury the primitive howl that almost burst from his chest at the idea of the man even touching her.
“A pleasure. Colin Flynn. I’m an old friend from Ireland. We used to work together.”
“You did?” Harper glanced back and forth between them, obviously catching the swirling tension. “Well, this must be a nice surprise. Do you have a horse entered?”
Aidan couldn’t take another second. Grabbing her wrist, he forced a tight smile. “Sorry, we better get going. We have an interview scheduled soon, and Phoenix needs some time.” She shot him a puzzled look but allowed him to lead her away until his chest finally loosened and he was able to drag in air.
She lifted a brow, her face amused. “Gonna assume that guy was not a friend of yours?”
“Not anymore.”
He opened his mouth to tell her they needed to talk, but a swarm of press surrounded them. Within minutes, he’d be forced to deal with them, so he turned on the smile and nodded with enthusiasm. The social blitz was important in the horse-racing world—as important as it was in any sport where sponsors, networks, and potential owners could sway odds, report stories, or a hundred other minor details that were critical to get ahead of. He motioned for Harper to step away, giving her some space, and swore to himself to tell her the entire story of him and Colin tonight.