Chapter 3
“Ifeel like we got off on the wrong foot and for the sake of professionalism and helpin’ you train, let’s start over.”
My back goes ramrod straight at the deep, recognizable voice behind me.
I hoped I wouldn’t see him today and even hid in the grooming stall with Ranger. But this proves that luck hasn’t always been on my side.
Reluctantly, I turn around and am faced with his stupidly handsome face and smug expression. It’s no secret he’s attractive, in an obvious charming kind of way, but my body and heart feel nothing for him except anger.
As soon as he catches me lowering my gaze down his muscular body, the corner of his lips curve into a satisfied grin. Then he proceeds to hold out his hand and without waiting for me to take it, continues, “Hi, I’m Landen Hollis. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
I deny his pleasantries and curl my arms behind my back. “You’re at least dressed normally today.”
He glances down at his scoffed-up work boots, dirty jeans, and gray T-shirt with the family’s ranch logo on it. “You caught me on a rough mornin’ the other day. Wasn’t my best first impression, I’ll give ya that.”
I didn’t need to meet Landen in person to know I didn’t like him.
I’ve spent the past seven years of my life loathing his very existence.
And secretly wishing karma would come for him sooner rather than later.
“Like I said before, I’m here to train. We don’t need to be friendly about it.”
He tilts his head like a confused puppy and the thought of that image nearly has me bubbling with laughter. But then he’d think I like him and his ego is already suffocating me, so I bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself.
He narrows his eyes. “Why can’t we be friends?”
“I don’t see the point.”
“Acquaintances?” he asks, arching a brow.
“Why?”
The wrinkle between his brows grows deeper as if he can’t fathom why any woman would argue about being in his presence. “Because we’re gonna see a lot of each other. I’m not just workin’ with Ranger’s technique, I’ll be critiquing yours, too. I’m usually on friendly terms with the rider I’m trainin’ and prefer to get to know them a little bit beforehand. It helps us form a level of trust.”
“Well, if that’s what you need to do your job correctly, then I suppose you’re not that great at it in the first place.”
He jerks back as if I smacked him across the face. “You are…” He shakes his head as if to erase the words he wants to say aloud. “Gonna be a challenge, ain’t ya?”
“Not everything in your life can be easy, can it?” With a conniving smirk, I spin back around and continue brushing Ranger.
Before walking away, I swear he curses under his breath, and I smile to myself.
Good. Now maybe he’ll leave me the hell alone.
He doesn’t.
But working with a professional trainer like Noah has been my dream for the past two years. It took almost that long to get off her waitlist, so I’m not letting her brother be the reason I don’t get what I want. If putting up with him is what it takes to advance my career, then I’ll deal with it for the short term.
But I didn’t realize he’d be so involved and frustrating.
Or stupidly attractive.
But his looks don’t matter when the urge to be as far away from him as possible is stronger than anything else.
Another day of doing training exercises means another day of Landen trying to crack jokes or get me to laugh at them.
It’s not going to work.
After two weeks of coming here, avoiding Landen the best I can, today I’m stuck with only him.
And though he doesn’t know where my dislike for him stems from nor does he remember who I am from years ago, him constantly pointing out every little thing I do is only encouraging me to hate him more.
“Stop droppin’ your shoulder when you turn,” he tells me. “Your hips are too angled.”
“They are not!” I reply, holding the reins firm in my grip so I’m not tempted to jump off Ranger and use my fists on him instead. He’s been on my ass for the past hour while Noah’s been dealing with an unexpected issue.
He stands tall and confident, looking smug as always. “You shifted too early, which caused Ranger to shoulder. Shift your pelvis slightly so you’re almost sittin’ on your back pockets and it’ll help you stop that habit.”
“My pelvis is angled fine. I have narrow hips,” I tell him.
The corner of his lips tilts up slightly, and I know there’s an inappropriate comment swirling in his mind just begging to come out.
He shrugs unapologetically as if he doesn’t believe me. “Not from my view. Your left shoulder drops on the second barrel.”
“It’s my weaker one,” I admit. “I dislocated it when I fell hard off Ranger about six months ago. Bruised up like a peach.”
“Did you do physical therapy for it?”
“A few times, but it doesn’t hurt. It just pops back out sometimes.”
He furrows his brows, and I know I’m about to get another lecture from him.
“Get down and come here,” he demands, and I hate how his deep, raspy voice puts me in a trance to follow his orders without a second thought.
Another reason to loathe him.
I tie Ranger’s reins to one of the posts and walk toward him.
The training center is massive, which gives us plenty of room for drills and practice, but as soon as I stand in front of him, the space closes in on us.
“Can I touch your arm?” he asks.
I sigh. “If you must.”
He smirks, then motions for me to spin around. As soon as I do, he grabs my elbow and stretches out my arm. “Does that hurt?” he asks while digging his fingers into my shoulder blade.
“No more than usual when the son of Satan is near me.”
He chuckles, then hovers above my ear. “Ooh, baby, careful with that dirty talk. My heart just did that little flutter thing.”
“Sounds like you have a murmur. Might wanna get that checked out before you collapse to your death.”
“Wouldn’t you like that, huh? Doubt they’d find anything, though. It only acts up when I’m ’round you.”
I snort but not in a ha-ha kind of way. More in disbelief that he’s not getting the hint that I cannot stand him. “Does that pick-up line usually work?”
He’s silent for a few beats before finally exhaling a long breath. “It wasn’t a line, Little Devil.”
That’s the second time this week he’s called me that, and I haven’t dared to ask him why. I probably didn’t help my case by calling him the son of Satan, but I was being serious. He calls me Little Devil like it’s a cute pet name.
He raises my arm and then shifts it back and forth. “You should start doing daily stretches to help with this clicking. You need to strengthen it so you’re not tempted to lower it.”
“Noah already has me joggin’ three miles every day. I’m sure it’ll get stronger in time.”
“I’ll get you a shoulder brace to wear during practice runs and print out some exercises for you to do at home. The more you work on it now, the better it’ll be for when you race.”
Instead of arguing, I stay quiet. His offer is quite sweet, but it’ll be a cold day in hell before I admit that out loud. He’s only doing his job and as long as it helps me in the long run, I won’t fight him on it.
He continues feeling around my back and arm, but the longer he stays silent, the more I forget how much I hate him.
“Are you almost done?” I finally ask.
He releases me, but then gives it a little squeeze. “Most women don’t complain about me touchin’ them. In fact”—he leans down until his breath whispers along my neck—“they beg me not to stop.”
Turning around, I’m faced with his cocky smirk. “And I suspect those women regret pickin’ convenience over personality.”
He tries to hide his reaction by scrubbing a hand along his scruffy jawline as if he’s contemplating how to handle me.
Good. The sooner he realizes I’m not here to entertain his ego, the better for both of us.
He licks his lips. “If you keep being mean to me, I’m gonna end up fallin’ in love with you.”
I wrinkle my nose at the unexpected comment. “Is that what you’re into? Women degrading you?”
“So far, only when it comes from you. I’m startin’ to think you feel it, too.”
My nostrils flare at the unwanted flirting. He’s fucking delusional.
“You’re insufferable and the only thing I’ll ever feel for you is hatred. If you think that’s me flirtin’ with you, you need to get your head checked. Maybe you have a leak. Would explain the lack of oxygen gettin’ in there.”
He smacks a hand over his heart. “Careful. The more you say you don’t like me, the harder I’m gonna fall.” His lips curve into the cockiest smirk I’ve ever seen. “Wanna fall with me?”
Crossing my arms, I match his grin. “I’d rather fall out of a plane without a parachute.”
“I see you two are still gettin’ along nicely…” Noah singsongs as she makes her way over toward us. “Am I too late? Has the first punch been thrown?”
“She’s the one using me as a verbal punchin’ bag,” Landen says, shifting his gaze from Noah to me. “But nothin’ I can’t handle.”
“Great!” Noah smiles, her eyes beaming. “Then you won’t mind me cuttin’ in for the last ten minutes of practice and seeing how y’all did?”
“By all means.” Landen waves out his hand, a knowing expression on his face. “Go ahead, Little Devil.”
I wrinkle my nose at the annoying nickname but don’t want to argue in front of Noah. My respect for her trumps my anger for her brother, so without a word, I grab Ranger and settle into the saddle.
Landen grabs his timer and while Ranger trots down the makeshift alleyway, I feel his eyes burning into me. I have no idea why he’s so hell-bent on flirting with me, but it seems nothing I say will get him to realize that I’m not just playing hard to get.
I wouldn’t think twice about running him over with my horse trailer if I knew I wouldn’t get caught.
With his de-lulu brain, he’d probably think me trying to murder him was foreplay.
“Alright, Ranger. Let’s show Noah what we’ve got.” I click my tongue and then give him a little kick.
He sprints down and aims right for the first barrel. As soon as we round the second, I focus on my technique so he doesn’t shoulder, and thankfully, he rounds it perfectly.
“Yes, go go go!” My legs bobble against him, but my boots manage to stay secure in the stirrups. We twist around the third barrel, slightly wider than I’d like but still in a good position to race home.
“Hustle, hustle!”
As soon as Landen calls time, I blow out a breath and pull on the reins to slow us down.
“Whew, such a good boy.” I pat his neck.
When I turn us around toward Noah, she looks thrilled.
“Fifteen point nine five one,” Landen announces. “Not bad. Lost two microseconds on that third barrel.”
The way he says those words dampens my excitement.
“Yeah, we’ll work on that,” Noah says as I swing my leg off the saddle and jump down. “You rode nice and straight, though. Your breathing is gettin’ better. I can tell your workouts are payin’ off.”
Workoutis a pretty loose word for jogging and doing jumping jacks every morning, but I’m not admitting that.
“You should try singin’.”
Landen’s words grab Noah’s and my attention. My brows furrow in confusion.
Once Ranger’s tied up, I step closer. “Did you say singing?”
“It’ll help you work on your breathwork while you run. You’ll build up your stamina faster,” he explains. “After a while, it’ll feel effortless when you’re racin’.”
“You sure know a lot about stamina and breathwork…” I cross my arms, then raise a brow. “Or is it breathplay?”
Landen winks, then licks his lips.
Gross.
“That’s not a bad idea.” Noah points at me, ignoring my comment to Landen. “Taylor Swift jogged for three and half hours straight while singing to get ready for her tour. I bet it’d help with your nerves, too.”
“And the calmer you are, the better Ranger will follow your lead and commands,” Landen adds.
I blink in disbelief. “You want me to sing while jogging three miles?”
“Not like you have to be on key.” Noah chuckles. “Go as long as you can and each day aim for a little longer.”
“If it helps, I’ll run alongside you.” Landen smirks. “I’ll sing backup.”
No, thank you.
I narrow my eyes. “As temptin’ as that is to have you stalk me on my runs, I’d much rather go solo.”
“And if you need song ideas, her Reputation album will get you amped up.” Noah smirks before grabbing her clipboard to record my race time. She’s been keeping track of my progress and makes notes after each lesson.
When I glance at Landen, he’s already grinning at me, and I mimic a faux one in return. “Good idea. I connect with her song ‘Look What You Made Me Do’ and could sing it on repeat.”
Noah barks out a laugh. “Remind me to introduce you to my little cousin Mallory one of these days. She’s eleven and obsessed with her music. She even named her horse Taylor Alison Swift and has all her lyrics memorized.”
That makes me smile genuinely for the first time today. “She sounds like my kinda girl.”
“Magnolia and I have slumber parties with Mallory one weekend a month and blast her music while we bake goodies and do facials. You’ll have to join us sometime.”
“That sounds fun,” I say honestly, but it immediately brings me back to being Mallory’s age and having scary movie night sleepovers with my older cousin. I haven’t had one of those since she was taken away from me.
The happy memories with her are what helps me through the rough times when my mental health isn’t at its best.
“Why am I never invited?” Landen’s exaggerated gasp has me rolling my eyes.
“Because you’re neither a woman nor a Taylor Swift fan,” Noah informs him, then pats him on the shoulder. “I doubt it’d beat your nights out gettin’ your clothes stolen by unsatisfied ladies.”
Landen’s jaw drops as if he hadn’t expected his sister to call him out. She snickers as she walks away, leaving me alone with him again.
I stand in front of Landen and twist my arms behind my back. “Sulking. Your best look yet.”
He leans down, imitating my stance. “Gloating…is not yours.”
“Comical you think your opinion matters to me.”
Landen’s jaw clenches as he steps back. “Your attitude is gonna be a problem if you expect me to continue helpin’ you.”
“Correction, you have a problem with my attitude, and that is your problem, not mine. Also, I never asked for your help. Ranger and I would do just fine with Noah.”
For the first time since he walked into the training session an hour ago and ruined my day, he lifts his backward baseball cap and scrubs his fingers through his thick brown hair.
I gulp at the intense way he keeps his gaze on me while he does it. Then he adjusts it back on his head and closes the gap between us, leaning down into my personal space.
“I’ll see ya tomorrow mornin’ at seven. Bring your runnin’ shoes and have your singin’ voice ready.”
He walks off before I can tell him to his face he’s lost his damn mind, but if Landen Hollis thinks he can continue barging into my life after my not-so-subtle hints of my hatred for him, I’m not going to make it easy for him to be around me.
In fact, he’s going to wish we never met.