13. Parker
Parker
We’re all at the stable, packing up to hit the road. Tomorrow morning will come fast. I’d like to be at the hotel early. Fortunately, Leah and Grady share my penchant for punctuality.
Bridget? Not so much.
Haven’t seen her, but we’ve taken it upon ourselves to pack her things as well. How she and Champ get there is none of my concern. We all have to transport ourselves. But at least she can’t say we left her totally high and dry.
Grady comes out of the supply closet with a bag in hand, filled with his change of clothes and toiletries.
Leah quirks a brow at him and he avoids her questioning look. When his eyes land on mine, I give him a “you can’t hide forever” glare. His shoulders drop, and he walks out the door to toss his things in my trunk.
“He’s especially grumpy today,” Leah grumbles, taking careful inventory of her gear.
“He’s still adjusting to you knowing.”
“That he can talk? It’s really nothing. Haven’t pressured him to say anything to me since.”
“Yeah, but it’s still terrifying for him. There’s… more to it than just his stutter. The things he’s endured because of it. Someday he’ll tell you more.” I smile, hoping my words ease a bit of her tension.
She frowns, and an adorable wrinkle forms between her brows. “Doubtful, every step forward is followed by two steps back.”
Foolishly, I reach out, smoothing the little crease with my thumb.
Her skin is soft and warm under my touch.
Those gorgeous, large green eyes nearly cross as she stares up at me.
For the first time, I’m able to see her truth—something vulnerable hiding beneath the surface, carefully concealed by the bright colors and spunkiness.
My pulse picks up as her breath falters, cheeks staining a perfect shade of red to make her freckles pop.
Fuck.
I swallow and withdraw my hand, kicking myself for touching her. We both felt the electricity, I know we did.
“Sorry, I just…” Just what? For the first time in my life, I’m at a loss for words.
“It’s okay,” she whispers, as if she can’t trust her own voice.
Grady chooses that moment to come back inside, huffing as Bridget nips at his heels. Leah goes still next to me, eyes zeroed in on her.
“Oh, Parkie, did you get my things ready for me?” Bridget bats her lashes.
“All three of us did, actually. Though it was mainly Grady,” I answer, voice a little too sharp.
“Well, did you supervise to make sure he did it correctly?” she asks with a scoff.
“Are you seriously stupid? Genuine question,” Leah spits.
“Excu—”
“No. First of all, you should have done it your damn self if you’re that concerned. But we all know you wouldn’t have the foggiest idea of what to bring or how to pack your gear properly. Hell, do you even know where we’re going?” Leah seethes, giving her no chance to utter a word.
God, she’s sexy when she stands up to Bridget… who is extremely red in the face.
“Mother will hear of this!”
“Yeah, yeah, Princess. Go on, same old threat I’ve heard before.” Leah rolls her eyes, turning away.
The disbelief and gratitude on Grady’s face speak volumes. He’s not used to anyone having his back. The fact that Leah does it, even though she thinks he hates her, is fucking criminally attractive. Good people with equally good hearts are so few and far between in this world.
I’m starting to think she may be worth risking everything for. Judging by the way Grady’s attention stays on her, he’s having the same epiphany.
While she finishes loading her bag with the last of Tally’s brushes and soaps, Grady takes it from her with the smallest trace of a smile. From him, it may as well be a full-fledged grin.
We’ve got a few hours of drive time ahead of us before we reach Ocala.
This event will set the pace for the coming months.
If she can knock this one out of the park, we’ve got all we need to fast-track her Olympic qualification.
A few routines we can rotate between, with enough high skill transitions, and she’s a shoo-in.
I only hope my extra hours with Bridget have been enough to make her mother believe I’m worth keeping around. This has to work out. Leaving Grady here is not an option, and he damn sure can’t leave if I can’t afford to support us.
My legs are cramped from the drive, but we’ve made it. Grady and I are waiting at the boarding stable for Leah to arrive. Hairs raise on the back of my neck, my skin tingles. There’s no way she shouldn’t already be here, she left thirty minutes before us.
I pull out my phone and call her.
“Hey,” she answers after two rings.
My stomach nearly jumps out of my throat as the dread settling in it dissipates. “Hey, we made it already. I was sort of worried you’d gotten lost or something.”
“No, just… okay, I did get lost for a teeny, tiny second. Missed an exit and had to re-route. GPS says I’ll be there in five.”
I chuckle into the phone. “Do I need to make Grady ride with you from now on to navigate?”
She grunts. “See you in a minute.”
When the line goes dead, I let out a laugh. “She got lost, so I told her I’d lend her my navigator.” I flash Grady a smirk.
“N-n-no th-thanks.” The twinkle of humor in his eyes doesn’t go unnoticed.
“I bet she’s a riot on road trips. Just imagine the playlist, her singing and dancing as she drives.
Probably not the safest, but damn would it be a blast!
” I beam. He raises his brows and shakes his head, expression full of mock terror.
“You love her quirkiness just as much as I do, don’t try to downplay it with me. ”
Blaring country music fills the air as Leah’s truck rolls into the drive. Windows down, hair up in a pink mess, she’s wearing ridiculously oversized white sunglasses.
As she backs her trailer up to the doors, a stable hand comes to greet us, likely to see what all the racket is about. He’s a young kid, maybe sixteen, scrawny with mousy brown hair. Timid.
Our little star hops down from her driver’s seat, wearing a baby-blue sundress that clings to her curves in a way that should be illegal.
“Hey there! Leah, from Hartbrook.” She wiggles her fingers.
“Tallulah Does the Tango?” His voice cracks.
“Listen, rule number one about my horse, she loathes her government name. Call her Tally and feed her peppermints, and you should live to talk about it.” Somehow, she maintains her bright expression while instilling bone-chilling fear into this poor kid.
“Okaaaay,” he says, gulping as she opens the trailer.
Tally, to her credit, backs out with minimal theatrics. She looks better than ever and is definitely ready to crush this show tomorrow.
As we follow the stable hand through the barn, I admire the high-end establishment.
Hartbrook is clinical, sensible, nothing too extravagant.
This is the exact opposite. Everything is polished.
The stalls all have a certain rustic air about them.
There are about thirty horses here already.
While I’m sure not all of them are competing at the same level as Leah, there are some notable contenders.
Several rising stars, other Olympic hopefuls who have been working for the last year or two for this.
As we stop at Tally’s designated stall, the stable hand ushers us inside. Leah gives him a peppermint, and his brows knit together, barely visible under his shaggy locks.
“This is really the secret?” His eyes bulge as he reaches out.
Tally sniffs the candy for a second, then grabs it with a nicker, crunching away.
“Told you. You’re besties now… just keep the supply on hand.” Leah claps him on the shoulder, and he gives her a tense nod.
“The horse next to her was a top contender last year.” I point to the large Dutch Warmblood. He’s gorgeous, as black as Tally with a small white snip on his nose.
“Yeah, Captain Clancy’s Revenge. I know him well. I mean, I don’t know him, but I’m familiar. The same goes for the Holsteiner over there.” She points a few stalls down to a bald-faced bay. “Little Lady Luck. Great horse, her canter transitions are flawless.”
So she does follow the sport, noted. Not a surprise, but knowing what I do, it was up in the air.
Grady nods. An impressed smirk tugs at his face.
“Well, we should probably go settle in for the night, yeah?” I jingle my keys.
Leah pats Tally, kissing her nose before we leave.
Our lodging is right down the road from the stable, which is extremely convenient.
There isn’t a whole lot else going on in this area.
We’re not in the city by any means, so hopefully they at least have a continental breakfast. We’re going to need all the energy we can get to survive tomorrow.
Of all the things we packed, none of us thought about food—not even a granola bar or some trail mix.
One skipped dinner won’t kill us, I suppose.
The hotel is smaller than expected, considering the size of the stables. When we walk into the lobby, the frail old lady at the front desk gives us an interesting look—wrinkled eyes doubled in size, lips pursed.
Unease creeps up my spine, slow and stinging.
When she opens her mouth, I have to practice my breathing exercises.
“Good evening… uh, I’m afraid there has been a misunderstanding.
” Her tense smile stabs me in the gut… this isn’t happening.
“You see, the hotel is very booked due to the event tomorrow, we only have one room left… is that an issue?”
There it is, another cosmic joke.
Shoulders slumping, Leah lets out a dramatic sigh. “I mean, I would love to watch some trash TV and binge eat candy in my underwear, but whatever.”
Grady puffs a single laugh through his nose, completely unbothered by this development.
Face pulled tight, I reply, “We have no other choice, aside from sleeping in my car, so we’ll make it work.”
“Wonderful. I do apologize that your facility manager didn’t secure proper accommodations.” She hands me a key card. “Room twenty is all yours!”
Rolling our suitcases behind us, the worst sound possible echoes through the long hall.
“Parkieeee.” Despite the plush carpet, the blank beige walls act as amplifiers, helping Bridget’s voice penetrate my eardrums at a piercing level. “You’re supposed to be bunking with meeee, we got the honeymoon suite on the top floor.” She speed walks toward us, fake smile on her face as usual.
“I’m with Grady,” I deadpan, leaving no room to argue. “One of us can sleep on the couch or something. Leah can have the other bed.”
“What is so special about them? Why do you constantly blow me off?!”
“Bridget, it’s late. I’m tired from the drive. Can we talk in the morning?” I don’t give her time to answer before swiping the keycard at our door and ducking inside.
Out of one nightmare into another.
The room is small. Short moss-green carpet, beige walls like the hallway, brown curtains covering the large window.
It would be perfect for a couple… seeing as the only furniture is a small table with two wooden chairs, a TV mounted on the wall, and one bed.
King-size with a cream-colored comforter featuring little blue cornflowers, a handful of pillows and lovely little chocolates.
How quaint.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I groan, throwing my head back. “There’s not even a couch! Guess we’re on the fucking floor tonight, Hulk.”
Who knows what secrets this carpet holds… I’d rather not think about it. My car might be a better choice.
Grady shrugs. This isn’t the worst place he’s ever had to sleep. Still, the thought is beyond frustrating. They host events three times a year here. How is there not more places to stay in the area? Dozens of teams come at a time. Where do they normally keep all these people?
Probably at the nicer places nearby, the ones Hartbrook would never pay for.
Leah places her hands on her hips. “Don’t be dramatic, we’re adults. We’re friends. We can share the damn bed.”
Heart in my throat, I tilt my head. “Share? You’d be comfortable with that?”
“I’m not a teenager. I’ll sleep on one side, Grady can take the other, since he likely won’t want to sleep near me, and you can be the buffer in the middle. First, we need showers.” She marches off to the bathroom.
I stand here, staring at Grady, and we have a wordless conversation, agreeing that the bed sounds far better than the floor.
This is fine.
Sleeping between the two people I can’t have won’t go wrong at all.