Chapter 26
Mace
April, One Month Later
“I can’t get the hang of this,” Slade called atop of the stallion that he’d claimed and purchased on his own.
Pepper was a prickly guy, beautiful, tall, and regal.
The man sitting awkwardly in the saddle had all the same qualities.
As far as a postcard moment went, the two were magnificent beasts.
They fully fit one another, but the animal was on edge on the strange ground of his new environment and Slade’s lack of confidence no doubt radiated through the rein.
This was going to take both of them time to get comfortable.
To be an ultra-elite trained stallion, Pepper probably needed to become a gelding.
Slade adamantly refused the suggestion. I grinned as I imagined my actor coming to this decision by thinking about his own balls being cut.
But for Slade to be able to train Pepper, gelding him would sure make that process easier and safer.
All that power would be a challenge to focus.
So, Whiskey and I waited. Every instruction I offered Slade, he ignored.
Honestly, Slade wasn’t wrong. He and his stallion had to work this out on their own.
The thirteen days between rides was a bigger problem for them than anything, but next week, if I was clever and quiet, I could sneak in a few training sessions to help Pepper to better fit Slade. Maybe.
When Slade’s horse suddenly bolted forward, I followed at a slowish gallop, not entirely sure whether it was the man or the beast in control right then.
What I did love was my Sundays. Slade and I still spent all our time together. This was our day.
Another positive was that Slade appeared damned fine in his Stetson. It fit his style and had been made only for him. The hat was pulled down low, snuggly fitting, making his dark hair and complexion alluring. The same with the horse he rode.
His beard hung off his jaw, gathered together in a long braid. The way he tied and tugged the pieces in place allowed his plump lips to show.
“Help me.” Slade’s plea told me all I needed to know.
I tried my best to hide my grin as I picked up the pace, catching up with my beautiful pair, and grabbed one rein. “Sit back and lean into it. You’re playin’ tug o’ war with him. He will win that battle. He doesn’t get what you want. So you have to change your tactic.”
Slade acted as if that was the first time he’d ever heard those words and did exactly what I’d taught him. Pepper instantly slowed.
“Follow your trainin’,” I started in lecture format. “Consistency and…”
“Repetition creates balance,” Slade finished for me. His tone revealed his aggravation. “But you can apparently get inside horses’ heads…I can’t. It’s fucking annoying.”
The grin I hid burst free. “Guess you can’t be good at everything,” I murmured, finally bringing both animals to a stop.
I handed over the reins, proud that Slade was able to keep Pepper reasonably still on his own.
Since we were close enough to the cluster of trees Slade liked to pass the afternoon under, I dismounted Whiskey and secured his reins.
He wouldn’t go far. “I’ll hold on to Pepper. Hang on as you dismount.”
In a show of defiance, Slade stood with one foot in the stirrup, the other kicking over the saddle. Luckily, it all worked out when he landed on his feet.
Maybe a month ago, when Slade realized how much he enjoyed being isolated under the shade of these trees, he’d had two Adirondack chairs brought out.
I took Whiskey to the small tank, a man-made pond, for a drink while I grabbed the saddlebag, tossing it over my shoulder.
Our lunch was inside. Sandwiches and water bottles, a gourmet feast for the next couple of hours.
Slade stood close to Pepper as he dipped his head, taking extra steps past where Slade led, getting his hooves wet as he drank from the water, meaning the beast was showing who was boss.
Man, the stallion was doing it on his terms. Slade’s phone vibrated, drawing our attention.
I didn’t understand how he managed any part of life with as much interruption as he experienced both day and night.
General rule, the only person he answered for while with me was his assistant, Tommy.
I hadn’t met him or been formally introduced yet, but we’d exchanged laughter together over Slade’s intense focus on everything he did.
Slade answered, and I took Pepper’s reins, securing the horse before taking my designated seat.
Of course, Slade had assigned us seats. Mine sat under a halo of tree covering, less sun for my partially fair complexion, per him.
As I dug through the bags for our food, his cell phone was placed in my direct line of vision.
It took a few seconds for me to understand what I was seeing.
A picture of Slade on Pepper’s back. Not from today, but from one of our first riding lessons.
My brow wrinkled as I lifted my head to see about my same expression staring back at me.
“Who took that?” I asked.
“You didn’t?” Slade asked by way of answer. “I’m not mad about it if it’s you.”
“I’m not a picture person. You take the pictures,” I answered with all honesty.
“Right. I just had to ask,” he said and lifted the phone back to his ear, walking a few paces away.
My understanding of our entire operation was that NDAs, non-disclosure agreements, were signed by any person who stepped foot on the property. That only excluded deliveries due to Slade not being a part of that side of our business.
Alarm bells rang.
After all this time, of course he and I were open while on our property. Hell, Slade was only here twice a month for forty-eight hours total. If I got lucky, he might stay a day longer. That had only happened twice.
The water bottle in my hand dropped to the saddlebag at my feet as I stood.
My body grudgingly moved a few steps closer to Slade.
All the years of hiding rushed forward in a tsunami-size wave.
Instead of rushing to him, the love of my life, I tucked my hands in my front pocket and stared as Slade paced several steps one way then the other.
The phone call ended by way of a rammed finger against the screen. Slade didn’t immediately stop the pace or turn toward me. I waited.
When he did, everything had changed. His entire being was tense and guarded. Not new emotions for me, I knew him well, I wasn’t sure there was anything he hid anymore, but he was also in a mood.
Too bad for him. “What’s happened?”
“I don’t know. If you didn’t take the picture, who did? We’re very careful,” Slade said, walking past me without drawing me to him or touching me in any way. This had to be serious. I pivoted to watch him closer.
“I didn’t take the picture,” I said with a hint of defensiveness I couldn’t mask.
“I know,” Slade said, dropping down in his seat, reaching for the bottle of water on top of the bag. He twisted off the cap, taking a long gulp. “Am I ever gonna be at one with Pepper?”
My eyes narrowed, my steps to him were slow as I considered what that change in subject meant. “So who took the picture and why does Tommy have it?”
“Don’t know, but they’ll figure it out. They found it on Instagram.
The account looks bot-esque.” Slade finally glanced at me.
I saw the concern and worry he tried to hide, which increased my anxiety.
He quickly looked away, patting the chair next to him.
“Sit. We can’t do anything to help figure it out and I don’t wanna waste our time together.
Did I tell you I’ll be home sooner this summer? ”
Yeah, several times. “Was I in any pictures?”
“No. The page is a celebrity gossip page. That was the only recent picture of me. None of you. I verified that,” Slade said, reaching for his sandwich this time. “We better eat. I’m hungry.”
“I packed two extra,” I said and continued to stand feet from him.
My thoughts shifted into protection mode, but the security I sought wasn’t due to my sexuality.
I’d come to terms with who I was, mainly due to never wanting to be without Slade in my life.
What concerned me right now was my family.
They deserved to know the truth before we were publicly outed.
I wasn’t sure I’d put all that together until right that minute.
“Sit, Mace. I’ll take care of this. Don’t freak and pull away. I got this.”
“I think we need to start thinkin’ about tellin’ my parents. I don’t want them to find out through the tabloids,” I said and took my seat. All my attention still on Slade, taking in his first reactions to my words. He no longer hid those from me.
“We could. I guess. That’s a change for you,” he said, taking a solid bite of the sandwich. “Ham. Miracle Whip. Good. I’d say let’s wait on your parents. Let me see what they find.”
“Wantin’ to tell ’em isn’t new for me,” I explained. Slade’s chewing came to a stop as he assessed me. “We don’t need to tell anyone else. I prefer it that way, but my parents sense my distance. They’re pokin’ around. I want to tell them before they figure it out.”
He reached for my hand, giving me an appreciative squeeze as he continued to chew until he swallowed.
“I wouldn’t mind that. I feel like Linda Bryant—Bryce and Gray’s mom—should know too.
I can’t imagine Wyatt keeping us quiet, but I’ve thought about telling Linda.
She really tries to be my mother figure.
She’s safe. If we were careful, we could be a larger family.
Do your parents make a big Thanksgiving dinner? ”
How accurately he’d nailed my country-living life caused me to grin past the uncertainty. “Best meal Mom makes. All southern recipes. Her dressin’s next level. She uses poultry seasonin’ like she owns the seasonin’ company. Yeah, you need to experience it.”
“No religious resistance to us?” Slade asked quietly, glancing away while reaching for the water bottle.