27. Jude
27
jude
“ I should insist all my fighters spend at least part of their training camp working a ranch,” Alex said, dusting off his lucky jeans as we hopped out of the truck in front of the stables. “I’m exhausted.”
I nodded in agreement. “Mind if we skip the workout this evening? I think my body forgot it isn’t eighteen anymore.”
We had just spent the majority of the day raking and baling hay with Uncle Chuck and a few borrowed ranch hands. Now there were about two hundred square hay bales lying in the west and south fields.
“Make sure you take an ice bath tonight. We’ll go hard tomorrow morning to make up for missing tonight.”
“Sure thing, Coach.” Romy would be back soon from the trail ride, and I wanted to get cleaned up before she returned. Flashes of her this morning straddling my lap while she rolled her hips tightened my pants.
I quickly adjusted myself before following Alex to his parked rental car.
We exchanged knucks, and Alex slid into his driver’s seat. I raised a hand in farewell while he turned the car around and headed away from the stables.
I wanted to make this evening special for Romy. She’d be tired from her trail ride, and while she showered, I’d grill some steaks and pour us some wine. Maybe put on some music while we talked about our day and ate. I wanted that with her. But not just tonight. I wanted it every evening. I think that’s what she meant by being patient with her because if she really looked, she would know I was already all in. I had been in love with Romy since we were kids, and I don’t think it ever went away, like a banked fire waiting to be fed and grow.
I was the one pulling back on the reins, trying to slow us to a trot, while Romy was rearing to charge forward into our physical relationship. I wanted that with her, I did, but I also wanted more.
Years of living on her memory, the fooling around … I was dying with anticipation. She had no idea how badly I wanted her. And I knew it was going to be good. If the foreplay was any indication of just how good it would be, hell, I knew this would far surpass our teenage hookup.
But I didn’t just want sex from her. I wanted the mornings, the weekends, the holidays, the little moments in between. I worried that if she knew that’s what I wanted from her—that I wanted all of her—she wouldn’t want the same. She may be staying, but that nagging feeling that I wasn’t worth someone giving their all twisted my gut. So I would do my best to be patient with her while silently loving her.
The clop of riders coming up the road to the stable steadied my heart. She was back sooner than I had expected, thinking I had at least a half hour before they returned.
Reed was leading the group, and he directed the riders to pull up at the paddock fence before dismounting.
But no Romy. My heart clenched in my chest. Where was she? I scanned the group, even though I knew she wasn’t there. I looked back toward the road, but there were no lone riders.
In four long strides, I was at Reed’s side. “Where’s Romy?”
He tipped up his hat to look at me. His lips thinned on a swallow. “Her horse threw a shoe.”
My brows shot to my hat. “And you left them on the trail?”
“We didn’t pack farrier tools, so I had to bring the group back. We’ll take care of the horses, and then I’ll grab the kit and go get them. She was fine when we left.”
Fucking Reed. I was starting to understand why Lina always said that. “Where?”
“I left her by the ford.”
“When was that?”
“About an hour ago.”
It was already getting late in the day.
“I’ll take the tools to her. Take care of the guests and the horses.”
I didn’t wait for Reed’s response. I just turned on my heels and stormed into the stable.
What the fuck? He was just going to leave her out there with the horse and lead the riders back himself? What was he thinking?
Pulling my phone out of my back pocket, I dialed up Romy, but it went straight to voicemail. Fuck! She was out of range.
At this rate, the sun would be setting by the time I reached her. Did either of us know the trail well enough to follow it in the dark?
I grabbed the farrier kit and a boot, along with Bronte’s tack.
All the horses were either out on the ranch or exhausted from the trail ride, so I saddled up Hazel’s horse, Bronte. He hadn’t been ridden since Hazel, but I knew Hazel took countless trail rides with him. If any horse knew that trail, it was Bronte.