6. BECKETT
BECKETT
The world is still around me—all except for the horses in the corral. I lean on the fence, my hat low, wishing my thoughts about her would be as easy to rein in as the animals I break for a living.
For some reason, I can’t get Quinn out of my head. Partially because I’m on edge thinking about how she might pop in here at any moment, but also because that night in my hotel room has been ingrained in my mind.
Her soft skin, her lips on mine, the sexiest moans, and the feel of her wetness on my fingers. Part of me wishes we’d taken things further that night, but I’m glad we didn’t. I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself for taking advantage of her while she was at her most vulnerable.
She reacted so negatively, yet we didn’t have sex, so I hate to think how she would behave if we had.
She probably would have had me stoned to death or something.
She is the mayor’s daughter, after all, and the whole town hates me, so all they’d need is one excuse, plausible or not, to get rid of me.
Those thoughts don’t stop me from thinking about her, though, as the memories are deeply ingrained in my mind. This is why I think working with her would be torture—not only because we don’t like each other but also due to the fact that I want more than just fucking her with my fingers.
Ah, fuck.
What are these thoughts I’m having about my best friend’s younger sister? I should be ashamed of myself, but I cannot stop.
But with each passing day, I’m becoming more grateful as the possibility of her showing up here keeps dwindling.
Another reason why I want her as far away from me as possible is that I don’t think I’ll be able to handle the judgment in her eyes when she truly learns how damaged I am.
I know she has an idea, but it’s vague, and that is okay for now.
Any more, and my ego—what’s left of it—might not be able to handle it.
A mare walks up to me, rubbing her nose all over my chest and neck, slobbering me with saliva, bringing a smile to my face.
Now this is my kind of therapy. Working with horses has always brought me a sense of peace like no other.
It’s only ever been rivaled by being high out of my mind on drugs, but since I can’t do that anymore, I’m settling for second best.
In this corral, the horses don’t care about my past or how many times I’ve let temptation win.
They only know the steadiness of my hand and the patient side of me that only they get to experience.
Out here, with dust in my lungs and leather creaking beneath my grip, I almost feel like the man I am trying to be, not the one my family and the small town of Wrangler Creek still whisper about. Almost.
Pushing myself off the fence, I get back to work, hoping to focus my mind on something other than Quinn. That’s enough time wasted on her.
At Iron Stallion ranch, I might not be an administrator, but I think I have the coolest job of all as a horse trainer.
Every horse that steps into my hands carries its own kind of wild.
Some are stubborn, some are scared, some just don’t know what they’re meant to be yet.
My job isn’t just teaching them to carry a saddle or follow a rein—it’s about listening to the language they don’t have words for.
Out here on the ranch, I’m the bridge between their instincts and the work they’re meant to do.
I take the kicks, the sidesteps, the long hours in the dirt, because at the end of it, when a horse lowers its head and finally trusts me, that’s the reward. That’s when I know I’ve done my job.
Later in the afternoon, when I’ve had enough and have pushed myself and the mares I’ve been training to the limit, I call it a day and leave the corral.
I find Ella seated on a rocking chair on the front porch, surrounded by bridal magazines. She’s Ava’s maid of honor and has taken it upon herself to plan the whole wedding.
“Hey, that’s mine!” she scolds when I take the cold glass of juice next to her.
“And now it’s mine,” I smirk just before I drain it in one go.
She scowls at me, but I just wink and set the glass back down. “Calm down. I’ll have someone send you a fresh glass.”
“You better.”
Instead of heading inside directly, I stick around for a few minutes so we can catch up.
Ella and I are actually pretty close. She was the one who found me on the bathroom floor when I OD’d.
The look on her face when I came to at the hospital was the wakeup call I needed.
I almost died that day, and I saw just how badly that would affect my family, especially Ella.
That’s why I went directly to rehab after I was discharged, and every day is a battle to keep doing better for their sake and mine too.
“You’re in a good mood,” Ella comments.
“Aren’t I always?”
She snorts at my response. “No, you’ve been a cranky mess the past couple of days.”
“That’s because of you guys. You were trying to force something I didn’t want on me.”
Her face softens. “We just want the best for you, Beck.”
“I know, but you’re going about it the wrong way. No worries, though—I guess Quinn shares my thoughts since she isn’t here, which means I’ve got nothing to worry about.”
“It’s only been a few days, and she hasn’t exactly said no, so it might be too soon to say she doesn’t want the job,” Ella reasons, but that’s not what I want to hear.
“If she wanted it, she would be here already, but since she’s not, we can assume she’s found what she wanted elsewhere.”
She brushes me off with a wave of her hand. “You’re too smug for your own good.”
“It comes with the territory, baby sis.”
She’s about to respond when her eyes focus on something behind me and she gets a cheeky smile on her face. “Looks like you spoke too soon.”
“What do you mean?”
She points to whatever she’s looking at, forcing me to turn around. “You see that purple jeep headed straight for us?”
“Yeah?”
“Does it seem familiar to you?”
“No, should it?”
“Yes,” she nods, looking like she’s holding in a laugh.
I’m puzzled, wondering why she’s so amused as I try to recall why that car should seem familiar to me. It’s still too far for me to make out the driver, and the windows are tinted, so I wouldn’t be successful either way.
Purple jeep. Purple jeep. Purple jeep? Oh shit!
“No!” I exclaim, turning to Ella in shock when I connect the dots.
She chuckles and nods. “Yes.”
“Fuck. What is she doing here?” I mutter more to myself, but she manages to hear me.
“I guess she made up her mind,” Ella shrugs as she gets to her feet.
“Hell no!” I curse as I stomp down the front steps.
By the time Quinn parks in front of the house, I’m already waiting for her. She takes her sweet time getting out of the jeep, so I do the honors of getting the door for her. She’s taken aback as we nearly bump foreheads.
“What are you doing here?” I demand, not giving her a chance to say anything.
“Hello to you too, Beck. Thank you for getting my door.”
“Drop the sarcasm. Why are you here?”
She stops smiling and crosses her arms over her chest defensively. “What do you think? I’m here to work.”
“What do you mean, work? I thought we had an agreement?”
“We agreed that I would think about it, which I have, and this is the decision I have come to.”
“You’ve got to be joking,” I groan, my grip tight on her door handle to the point where it hurts my palm.
“Then it’s not a very funny joke, is it?” she retorts.
This cannot be happening. She was supposed to stay away, but here she is, looking ready to drive me crazy.
“Switch your car back on and drive away,” I request as calmly as possible.
“Not gonna happen. I’m here to stay, so you better start getting used to it,” she asserts as she jumps out of her car, forcing me to step back.
She goes around to the trunk and retrieves two huge suitcases.
“What do you need all those for? Are you moving in?!”
She’s not the one who replies, but Jace, who materializes out of nowhere from behind us. “Yes, she is, for the next eight weeks.”
He gets up from his wheelchair to shake Quinn’s hand. “Miss Atwood, welcome to Iron Stallion.”
Did he just say eight weeks? I’m supposed to live in the same house as Quinn for eight weeks?! What did I do to deserve this?
“Mr. Morgan, I hope I’m not too late,” Quinn responds with a polished smile.
“Of course not. And call me Jace, please.”
“Okay, Jace. Thank you so much for having me.”
“I should be thanking you for taking me up on my offer.”
They are being so friendly as if everything has already been decided. Don’t I even get a say in this?
Jace then turns to me as if recalling my presence. “Beck, why don’t you show Quinn to her room? We can talk once she settles down.”
“Don’t we have maids for that?” I grumble.
“We do, but she’s staying in the empty bedroom next to yours, and since you are headed that way, why not be a gentleman?”
“There are six empty bedrooms on the second floor,” I remind him.
“And yet I’ve decided that she’s staying in the room next to yours,” he proclaims, grabbing my shoulder and squeezing a bit too tight for my liking.
“I don’t have a choice, do I?” I sigh.
“No, you don’t,” he affirms, taking a seat in his wheelchair once more. “Miss Atwood, feel at home. For now, please settle in, and we’ll discuss the details of your stay later.”
“Thank you, sir.”
He wheels himself away, leaving me and the woman who is about to ruin my life.
Knowing that I don’t have a choice, I grab her two suitcases and carry them inside the house.
Ella is long gone, probably running away from the bloodshed.
I don’t even turn to check if Quinn is following behind me as I lead her to the first floor where our rooms are.
But seriously, what is Jace thinking, putting us in adjacent rooms? Isn’t it enough that I already have to be okay with her moving in here?
I don’t bother taking them in, just drop them in front of her door. Turning around to face her, we almost run into each other again.
“Thank you,” she smiles politely, and I know her well enough to recognize that it’s fake.
“I hope you know what you just signed up for.”
She cocks her eyebrow at me. “Is that a threat?”
I lean down, our noses brushing against each other. “No, baby, it’s a warning. Trust me, when I threaten you, you’ll know.”
With that, I turn around and head into my room, slamming the door closed loud enough for it to echo through the walls. Quinn is here, and she seems determined to let my siblings use her. But I am not going to take this sitting down. She better brace herself for what’s about to come.