Chapter 13
“So, you’re the infamous new Denver addition,” a voice drawls seductively from behind me as I wait patiently in line for the bar, needing a drink with how hot the day is turning out already.
Startled, I spin around. Piercing green eyes meet mine, and I take a step back.
This boy, about the same age as me, is all cocky charm and sun-warmed swagger, with tousled dark hair, mischievous green eyes that linger too long, and a crooked grin that says he knows exactly the kind of trouble he is.
He looks like a younger version of Colter.
“Ignore him,” Lee says, and I tear my eyes off the stranger to see Lee walking up behind him. “He’s a busy body.”
“Nah. I know a diamond when I see one,” the guy replies, shooting me a wink.
Lee shakes his head. “She’s my sister, dude.” I can’t keep the shock from registering on my face when Lee calls me his sister. The man has barely said a few words to me since I’ve been here. Not even Pace has introduced me to anyone as his sister.
“If she were mine,” his friend continues, “then we really would be brothers.” He turns back to me with a devilish smile. “I’m the full package, baby. Money, power, and—”
“Overcompensation issues?”
Lee roars with laughter. Even his friend chuckles.
“Peyton, this asshole here is Jackson Shaw,” Lee introduces, still laughing. “You’ll get used to him. He’s kind of like a yeast infection. Gone for a while but always pops back up when you least expect it.”
It is my turn to laugh.
“Might come around more often now,” Jackson says, his eyes still locked on me.
“Stop making threats,” Lee drawls. Jackson smiles, moving his gaze to Lee, but not before sliding me another salacious wink. “I’m surprised you’re out of bed this early. Weren’t you at Morgan’s last night?”
Yeah, I am definitely not messing around with him.
Jackson is exactly like the boys I went to school with.
Ones who often turned into men who frequent the strip club my mother worked at when she wasn’t too high to dance on a pole.
He’s flirting, but it’s all superficial.
He enjoys female attention and knows how charming he is.
Add in having money and being connected to the Shaw name, I doubt he’s ever been rejected.
“How is Sundance shaping up for the stakes?” Lee asks his friend, whose lips twist into a satisfied smirk.
“Maricosa is going to have some competition,” Jackson informs him smugly. “Sundance has been shaving time off his run like nobody’s business.”
“Keep thinking that,” Lee laughs good naturedly. “Maricosa is stakes winner for the last three years.”
“And it’s about time some new blood came in.”
They both laugh while I am stuck figuring out what the hell they are talking about.
Horses, obviously, but other than what I’ve seen on Yellowstone, I don’t know much about them. Except what I learned from Pace the other day.
“Broken Ridge and Black Diamond are two of the most prominent and prestigious racehorse operations in the South,” Jackson tells me, no doubt sensing my confusion.
“Tied neck and neck for wins. The stakes are the Belmont Stakes in New York. It’s a one-and-a-half-mile race and is the third and final leg of the Triple Crown. ”
I nod slowly, trying to look like I understand more than I actually do. “Right. Makes sense.”
Jackson’s grin widens, clearly amused. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. You’ll be fluent in horse talk by the time the season’s over.”
“Or completely sick of it,” Lee mutters, lifting two fingers to flag down the bartender.
Jackson leans one elbow on the bar beside me, his body turned toward mine in a casually predatory way I’ve seen too many times before. “Tell me, Denver. You ever ridden before?”
My eyebrows lift. “A horse?”
He chuckles, low and slow. “Yeah. A horse.”
I catch the edge of innuendo in his tone and roll my eyes, refusing to give him the satisfaction. “Once. A few days ago, actually. Pace took me around the corral.”
Jackson whistles, impressed or pretending to be. “Damn. Pace Denver letting you on one of his horses? That’s more shocking than Lee calling you his sister.”
Lee snorts. “Don’t start.”
But Jackson’s attention is still pinned to me. “Let me guess—he put you on Old Lady May?”
I nod, and Jackson taps the bar, shaking his head with mock seriousness. “The safest horse in three counties. You could fall asleep on her, and she’d still carry you home.”
“Sounds like my kind of ride,” I say, deadpan.
He lets out a bark of laughter. “Alright, I’ll give you that one.”
The bartender finally makes his way over, and Lee orders us all lemonades, which surprises me more than anything else. No beer? No whiskey?
Jackson must see the question forming because he tips his head toward the open field behind the bar, where trailers and horses are scattered like pieces on a game board.
“May be a fun get together, but some of us still have work to do later. No one drinks before the gates close. Not unless they’re stupid. ”
“Or is trying to not get on his father’s shit list today,” Lee adds under his breath.
“Guilty,” Jackson says, then grins at me. “You should come to the practice track sometime. I’ll show you what a real horse looks like.”
“You offering a tour or an excuse to stare at your reflection in a saddle buckle?”
Lee nearly spits his lemonade.
Jackson grins, unaffected. “Maybe both. I’m an efficient man.”
“Arrogant,” Lee corrects.
“Accurate,” Jackson replies without missing a beat. Then he lifts his lemonade in mock toast. “To the Denver diamond. You’ve officially survived your first week without running off.”
I clink my glass against his without thinking. “Barely.”
Jackson’s eyes sparkle. “That’s the spirit.”
But as I take a sip and glance out toward the horizon where the dust is kicking up again from the practice run, I can’t help but wonder how long this uneasy peace will last. I’m still a stranger here, even if some of them treat me like I belong.