2. ZANE
ZANE
A small, soft body crashes into me, and I instinctively reach out, breaking her fall. Bright, sea-green eyes lock onto mine, blinking up at me with an innocence that should have me running for the hills but instead pulls me in.
I gently set her steady on her feet. “Careful there, Miss Diva. Wouldn’t want you to break those pretty legs now, would we?”
She blushes, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Hi, Zane,” she whispers in her honey-coated voice.
It should be illegal to be this beautiful and perfect. And I should be in cuffs for having these thoughts about my baby sister’s best friend, who is a decade younger than me.
“Hello, Miss Diva. Congratulations on your debut. These are for you,” I express, holding out a bouquet of jasmines mixed with baby’s breath.
I know they’re her favorite flowers, and tonight is a big night for her, so I thought I’d try and put in some effort.
If possible, her face turns even more pink. “Thanks, but you didn’t have to.”
“I wouldn’t be a proper gentleman if I didn’t, now would I?”
She smiles wider and turns away for a moment. She shares a look with my sister, who’s standing a couple of feet away from us. They share a look I cannot for the life of me decipher before Ava faces me with a determined expression on her face.
“Zane,” she softly calls out my name.
“Yes, Miss Diva.”
She takes a deep breath, and somehow I feel like I know what she’s about to say before she does. “I have something I’ve been meaning to tell you for a long time.”
“What is it?” I encourage, knowing that if I’m right, it means I’m not alone in feeling the way I do.
“There’s no way around this, so I’ll just say it.”
“It’s okay, Miss Diva. You can tell me anything,” I encourage.
She looks up and meets my eyes, and it’s right there in her gorgeous orbs before she utters the words. “I like you.”
Yes!
Now that’s what I’m talking about. She likes me, but I need to play it cool, so I furrow my brows and widen my eyes, acting surprised.
Her crush on me has gotten even more obvious over the past few years, but I didn’t start thinking about her as more than my sister’s best friend until a couple of months ago.
She came with Ella to one of my competitions wearing the tiniest pair of shorts known to man, and I found myself getting jealous from the attention she was getting from other men.
Now I can finally tell her how I feel. I soften my gaze and lean in to cup her face. She leans into my touch with a smile before bridging the gap between us and... kisses me?
Wait... that didn’t happen!
I open my eyes to find a coarse tongue licking my face, slobbering saliva all over me.
“Jaz! No! Stop that!” I grumble, pushing her face away.
She snorts at me, spitting more saliva. “Do not snort at me, young lady. You woke me up.”
If horses could roll their eyes, I’m sure Jaz would be doing that right now.
Jaz is a beautiful brown, four-and-a-half-year-old American Quarter horse. Being part of her life from the moment she was foaled somehow made me connect with her, so she’s one of my favorites, and I think she knows it from how spoiled she acts.
What was with that dream though? It was more of a flashback than a dream, but still very unwelcome. I live with the constant, painful reminder of what happened that night—I don’t need her haunting my subconscious as well.
It’s been five years since I last saw or spoke to her, but Ella regularly keeps me updated on her wellbeing and whereabouts. More like she keeps the rest of the family updated, loudly, while I’m in earshot. Last I heard, she was on her world tour. I wonder if she... I wonder nothing.
I shouldn’t even be thinking about her—I need to get back to work. With that thought in mind, I push myself to sit up, but I’ve been lying down too long and my back has stiffened up. Aargh, there’s that painful reminder I was talking about.
I turn to Jaz for a little assistance. “Help me up.”
Like I taught her, she folds one of her front legs at the knee within arm’s reach. I cling onto the lower part of her leg, and she lifts the leg up, pulling me to a position where I can get to my feet.
I reward her with a baby carrot I fish from my pants pocket.
Teaching her that trick is one of the best things I’ve ever done for myself. It comes in handy more often than not.
I let myself out of her stall to resume my duties. Yesterday, we received an order for two thoroughbreds, and I’ve been working my ass off all day making sure they’re ready for delivery in two days.
“Good afternoon, sir,” Duncan, my assistant foreman, greets, walking up to me with a clipboard in hand.
I grunt an inaudible response and take it from him. “Vet assessment?” I question when I see that spot is still unfilled on the form.
“He’ll be here first thing in the morning.”
After checking on the detailed report of the two horses, I hand the clipboard back to Duncan and proceed to the stalls myself. These two need to be constantly babysat for the next forty-eight hours until they’re out of our hands.
Iron Stallion ranch boasts of running one of the top horse breeding programs in the country, and as the foreman, those responsibilities fall on my shoulders. We specialize in thoroughbreds, but we also breed Mustangs, Arabians, and American Quarter horses.
It’s a taxing job, but it allows me to work with animals instead of dealing with human beings, and if you ask me, that’s a fair trade.
I check on two foals that were born in the past week, ensuring that they’re faring well before proceeding to the last stop: the Sunset stables, where we specialize in end-of-life care for horses that have had a good run.
I stop at the last stall, which houses a beautiful Appaloosa mare—Lilly. It’s heartbreaking watching creatures that were once so powerful be reduced to pitiful versions of their prime selves, but I’m glad we can offer a safe haven for them to live out their final days.
“Hey, girl. How are you doing today?” I whisper, picking up a brush.
Her spotted coat is slowly losing its beautiful shine, but it still needs care.
She rewards me with a soft grunt and reaches into my pants pocket where she knows I always have goodies for her. I retrieve an apple and a couple of baby carrots that I periodically feed her while I brush her coat.
This is as much therapeutic for her as it is for me. Lilly and I spend an hour together before she dismisses me by shoving me out of her stall since I’ve overstayed my welcome.
It’s dark out, and the hot Texas air has cooled down, but there’s still some lingering humidity in the air.
My plans for an ice bath to cool down after a hard day are ruined when I recall that my ice machine is broken.
An ice bath is the only thing that helps with my sore muscles, but my machine being broken means one thing—I need to head into the main house to get ice.
Damn! I can skip the ice bath, but I’ll be in for a rough night ahead.
I weigh my options and decide that interacting with my family for a few minutes won’t be so bad. I might even be lucky and not have to see them at all. I’ll be quick—in and out like lightning.
Unfortunately, I’m not so lucky, and that’s the opposite of what happens.
I let myself into the main house using the back door that connects to the kitchen, only to find my father, Hank, younger brother, Jace, his six-year-old daughter, Daisy, and my sister, Ella, in there having dinner. They all look surprised to see me, which is understandable as I rarely come in here.
I’m tempted to walk back out, but I’m already here, so I might as well.
“Ice,” I explain shortly as I walk past them to the ice machine on the furthest end of this vast kitchen.
“Uncle Zane, join us for pizza,” Daisy calls out, being the first one to speak up.
I don’t really want to, but I haven’t eaten, and saying no to a six-year-old seems rude, so I opt to join them for a couple of slices.
Everyone else seems surprised when I do, while Daisy is grinning widely from ear to ear, exposing a missing front tooth. That smile might just be worth this uncomfortable dinner.
The therapist my father forced me to see a few years back diagnosed me with PTSD, but I think he was a quack—PTSD is for veterans.
I should know; Jace has it, and it doesn’t look pretty on him.
I just don’t like people because of the pity looks they give me since the accident that ended my lifelong career.
Jace coughs and turns to Ella. “So, El, you were saying?” He prompts her to resume the conversation they were having before I walked in.
“Oh yes, I’ve invited Ava to stay with us for a while,” she announces.
At the mention of that name, I freeze mid-bite, in shock. Everyone in this house knows who Ava is, and I can feel them watching me and waiting for my reaction, but none is forthcoming.
“How long is a while?” Jace questions.
“Three months, give or take. She’s on break and needs a place to unwind, so I offered up Iron Stallion,” she explains.
Three months?! Ava Noa, the girl I haven’t seen in five years and the one who won’t stop haunting my dreams, will be living with us for three months? Is Ella crazy?
“We’re not a vacation destination. Wouldn’t a place like the Maldives be better suited for her?” Jace counters.
“No, this is exactly what she needs,” Ella insists.
Jace looks at me, waiting for me to say something, but what can I say?
No? I can’t do that. Ella seems excited, and this is her house as much as it is mine, so she’s allowed to invite whoever she wants.
I’m surprised this didn’t happen sooner.
I just have to avoid the main house like the plague for the next three months.
“Okay, she’s your friend,” Jace relents when I fail to say anything.
“That she is, which is why I’d like to ask one of you for a favor,” Ella continues.
“Which is?”
“Daddy already agreed to send one of the jets to pick her up, and she’ll be landing tomorrow, so I need one of you to drive me to pick her up.”
“Count me out,” Jace quickly declines.
“Why?”
“I have a parent-teacher meeting with one of Daisy’s teachers tomorrow and physical therapy after.”
“Okay, so Jace is out. Zane,” she asks, turning to me.
I didn’t even know she was considering me. “No.”
“Please, Zane.”
“No.”
“Please.”
“No.”
Ella sighs and turns her puppy eyes on our father, and that’s when I realize I’m fucked. He can never say no to her—his little princess. “Daddy, make him.”
Ella is the only girl in our family of four boys, which means she grew up spoiled. As the firstborn, I admit I was the first to do so, and now it seems that has come to bite me in the ass.
All Dad needs to say is one word, and I realize that I don’t have a choice.
“Zane,” he rumbles authoritatively, giving me a pointed look.
How am I being bossed around by my father even at thirty-five years old?
“Fine,” I grunt begrudgingly.
Jace gives me an apologetic look while Ella is grinning from ear to ear.
All I wanted was ice. Now I’ve ended up being roped into picking Ava up from the airfield tomorrow? I should have just skipped that ice bath and coming into this house altogether.