Chapter 20
Wade carriesa saddle from the hook outside of Kip’s pen toward me, his brows lifted expectantly. All morning, he’s been hinting at me riding the quiet, towering beast but has kept me busy doing a million other tasks instead.
The calluses on my palms from my days sweeping began burning again when he passed me a pitchfork the moment we arrived at the stables this morning and ordered me to lay fresh hay in the stable pens. It took an hour to clean out the old stuff and replace it in every pen, but it was easy enough. Nobody lingered around to watch, waiting for me to fail or step in shit. I’m proud in the weirdest way that I avoided the latter this time.
My sneakers have seen better days. I’m a stubborn ass to keep turning down the boots lingering at my front door, but I haven’t managed to put them on yet. It feels like accepting defeat.
“You’re goin’ to saddle him up,” Wade orders, dropping the heavy saddle into the arms I barely manage to lift in time to catch it.
“How do I do that?”
He tosses a small grey blanket over Kip’s back and smooths it down with a pat to his side. The brown leather in my arms is heavy, weighing me down as Wade taps a finger on the blanket.
“Set it on his back, horn closest to his head,” he instructs, sounding surprisingly calm and watching me with a patient stare. It helps ease some of my uncertainty.
Watching Kip for any sign that he doesn’t want me to do this, I slowly lift the saddle and set it on his back. Even with nothing tightened or keeping it in place, it looks like a perfect fit.
He lists off all the pieces and parts of the saddle before saying, “Kip’s been wearin’ a saddle for a long time. He loves it. Not every horse is goin’ to be the same. We got wild fuckers here that would rather beat your chest in with their hooves than let you weigh them down with one. You have to treat every horse different. Always be lookin’ for signs of distress,” Wade explains, rounding Kip’s other side and starting to make adjustments to the saddle. I watch carefully, trying to memorize the movements.
“All the horses you’ll meet in this stable are broken in and, unless you do something to upset ’em, won’t hurt you. Brody’s horse, Sky, is in the next pen over. Kale is outside, but his pen is on Kip’s other side. He belongs to Renner. You ever need anythin’ that you can’t get a hold of me for, you find Renner.”
“A good friend of yours?” I ask, still watching him fit Kip with the saddle.
“I’ve been training Renner to take over for me if I decide to kick the bucket early.”
“I assumed Brody would be taking over for you.”
Wade laughs, but it’s a strained sound. “You kiddin’?”
“No.”
“My grandson doesn’t want this place. He’d be miserable, and he doesn’t know enough about the business to keep it alive. He’s always been open and honest about that.”
The shock I feel at hearing that is worrisome. It shouldn’t matter to me.
“It’s called Steele Ranch.”
“Glad to know you can read, boy.”
Kip makes that high-pitched noise again, and I pat his neck. “What is that sound called?”
“A whinny. Kip’s not a vocal horse, but I didn’t take him for a cuddler either until I caught you two, so I guess I don’t know my own horse as well as I thought. Sky’s always talkin’, beggin’ for attention.”
I glance at the tan-coloured horse in the next pen over and shift on my feet. “So, Steele Ranch will be run by someone who doesn’t carry the family name.”
“Every Steele generation before me is rollin’ in their fuckin’ grave,” he replies.
“There’s really no one to take over? No long-lost relatives?”
“I’m not in the business of forcin’ anyone to carry on a legacy this big. To bear that burden. I’ve exhausted all the familial options. Renner’s all I got for now.”
I keep rubbing Kip’s neck. “You ever thought of picking one of the younger guys? Johnny, maybe?”
Wade meets my stare over Kip’s back, now fully saddled. “Johnny lacks the maturity for the work it would take. I haven’t ever seen him take a damn thing seriously since the day he showed up here. I once poured years into teachin’ a man like him every damn thing I know, and it bit me in my ass when he took off on me.”
I shrug, forcing myself to let it go. To not focus on convincing this old man of anything other than what he already believes. Johnny isn’t my responsibility. I don’t know if he’d even ever want what I’m offering him up for.
“Are you going to finally teach me how to ride Kip now?” I ask, changing the subject.
The closing of a car door draws my attention. Wade looks past me at the open stable door, the corner of his mouth tipping upward.
“Right on time,” he says.
I follow his stare, turning and dropping my hand to my side. The beige cowboy hat and auburn braid is the first thing I notice. Then, the pink boots. And finally, everything in between. The thigh-hugging denim tucked into the boots and baggy cream hoodie with the sleeves shoved up to her elbows. I reach back for Kip, needing something to grab hold to as the image of Poppy in front of me rattles my chest.
She grins so damn bright at Wade before shifting her attention to me. That outwardly excited smile calms ever so slightly, becoming almost . . . shy. The impact of that is enough to have me offering a curve of my lips in return.
“You didn’t tell me that I’d be giving Garrison lessons today, Wade. I was prepared for someone much younger,” she says in greeting, emphasizing the final two words. Cheeky.
I fix Wade beneath a stare heavy with suspicion. Maybe he does spend more time with Johnny than I thought. That, or Eliza knows more than she lets on. Either way, this is meddling to the extreme. My mother would approve of it.
“He has the same horseback ridin’ knowledge as a child. I’m sure it won’t be much different,” Wade replies.
I ignore him, focusing on Poppy again. She’s bare-faced, skin glowing in the barely lit stables. Beautiful with little effort. I’m grateful to have Kip to lean against.
“I didn’t know you taught riding lessons,” I say.
“I don’t really. Only when Wade asks me to.”
“Poppy’s been ridin’ on this land since she only came up to my hip. She’s got a special bond with a few of these horses. You should be grateful to have her teachin’ you,” Wade says pointedly.
She flashes him a sweet smile, and my stomach tightens. “You’re a smooth talker, Wade Steele. Eliza is a lucky woman.”
“I’m not sure she’d agree with you some of the time, but thank you, darlin’.”
I clear my throat, a rare blast of territorial bullshit clawing its way through my mind. My face heats at the obvious ridiculousness of not only the possessive feeling but the fact it’s aimed at Wade Steele in the first place. This place is ruining me slowly, tearing apart my hard demeanour piece by piece.
“Are we riding anytime today?” I ask.
Both of them look at me, Wade with a stiff scowl and Poppy with a telling gleam in her eyes that has me grinding my teeth to dust.
“Sure. I’ll catch up with you later, Wade. Let you know how Sir Douchealot does today,” she tells the old man.
“Let Eliza feed you before somethin’ before you go. She’s been bakin’ cookies since before I woke up, mutterin’ something about a new recipe keepin’ her up.”
Poppy salutes him and then crosses the distance to me and Kip. Wade flashes me a warning look before leaving the stable, his boots kicking up hay and dust.
I relax when he’s out of view, leaving Poppy and me alone with only Kip witnessing our awkward silence. She strokes his neck, and he leans into her touch immediately, already comfortable with her. My chest softens.
“Have you really never ridden a horse before? I thought rich people loved to ride horses and all that jazz,” she says, breaking the silence.
Our eyes meet over Kip’s shoulder, hers so clear and open. She asks questions about me without judgment, just genuine curiosity. My hackles don’t rise in her presence, almost as if I . . . trust her.
“I didn’t grow up wealthy. That came after my father made and released his first single. I was fourteen at that time,” I say.
“What was the song called? I don’t think I’ve ever heard your father’s music.”
“You probably wouldn’t have. His career as an artist consisted of a single hit song and then an album that made pennies in comparison. He attempted to release another record that succeeded as well as that single did but couldn’t ever get there. There was no market for the genre of music he wanted to create, but he lacked the knowledge then that we have now.”
Kip whinnies again, and I scratch his neck, continuing to stare at Poppy. I don’t know why I expect her to show some sort of judgment for what I’ve told her, but there’s nothing there but a warm calm in her eyes that encourages me to continue speaking.
“The single paid well, and Reggie invested the money well for years before throwing it into creating Swift Edge Records. He told me it was a graduation present. That once I graduated university with my BA in business, the company was mine. We share fifty-fifty ownership, but he only ever wanted to help create music. Everything else was up to me, and I love what I do.”
Even the early mornings and late evenings. Board meetings and phone calls. The power that comes with running a business that employees hundreds of people and has plowed through its anticipated potential. I’ve met thousands of celebrities, made billions of dollars, and created a name for myself that carries a heavy weight in the music industry.
She sucks on her teeth. “Let me get this straight. Your father bought you an entire company for a graduation present? I thought . . .”
I laugh stiffly. “You thought that we hated each other. It doesn’t make sense for him to do something so grand for me, right?”
“Not exactly that. I’ve just heard that you two aren’t exactly close,” she corrects me, although her wince contradicts her words.
“We weren’t always the way we are now.”
“What happened?” she asks, voice so soft and gentle that I nearly tell her. And that petrifies me.
I close the door on the conversation, swallowing the emotion in my throat. “How do I get on Kip’s back?”
A pause, and then she says, “Do you want to watch me do it first?”
“Is it that difficult?”
“You’re much taller than me, so you will most likely have an easier time than I will. But you can see the proper way to grip his reins and swing your body,” she explains.
Slowly, I bring my gaze back to hers, inhaling sharply at her encouraging smile. I wasn’t expecting to find such understanding in her expression. It’s obvious that Anna would have told her best friend more about me than I have, even just now, so she has to know the dynamic Reggie and I have. Both her and Brody have born witness to it. So, her lack of judgment doesn’t make sense.
I’m always the bad guy in this situation. Never my father. But right now, I don’t feel like a villain. I couldn’t feel further from one.
“Show me,” I rasp, my weak tone betraying me. “Please.”
Poppy smiles, coming to stand at my side. Her arm brushes mine, the rolled-up sleeves of her sweatshirt exposing her smooth, warm skin. She grabs Kip’s reins in her hand and tucks her pink-booted foot into the stirrup, as Wade called it. I back up a step and watch her bounce on her opposite leg twice before bearing down on the stirrup and swinging the leg up and over Kip’s tall body. She huffs a breath once she’s seated on his back, her thick thighs cupping his sides in a way I shouldn’t be jealous of but fucking am. I want those thighs pressed to my cheeks, squishing me harder with every stroke of my tongue over her clit?—
“Stop looking at me like that in here, Garrison,” she chastises.
I snap out of my thoughts and clear my throat. Poppy’s eyes are at half-mast, tongue wetting her lips while her cheeks turn pink. My cock is hard between my legs, heavy and throbbing at that expression. It would be reckless to fuck her here in the middle of the morning where anyone could walk by and see. But I want to.
“Then get down from there and let me try and swing up on him,” I grit out, unable to help myself as I set my hand on her calf and press my fingers into the denim there.
“Gotta remove your hand first,” she mutters, eyes drawn to where I’m touching her, my palm sliding up her leg to rest on her bent knee.
I don’t want to drop my hand. To step back and give her the room to dismount. I’m liking the close proximity, the feel of her beneath my fingers. I like it too damn much.
The reminder has me staggering back, my palm cold as it drops to my side. I don’t watch her swing off Kip because if I did, I don’t trust that I wouldn’t be there lifting my arms to catch her.