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“Whatever.”
Speaking to her was like trying to tear down a brick wall with your hands. Sometimes, you’d get little chunks that fell down, making you feel like you were that much closer. But then you’d look at your bloodied fingertips and realize you hadn’t made any progress at all.
The waiter approached again with a fresh bottle of wine, all smiles and professionalism as he set it on the table and asked how the food was. Lottie nodded silently, eyes cast straight down at her plate. I at least gave him the decency of a few praising words.
“Look, let’s just… talk about something safe,” I sighed. “We can’t be sitting here in silence. It doesn’t look good.”
She shrugged. “Okay. What do you want to talk about?”
I watched as she took a bite of lobster, a little droplet of butter slipping down from the corner of her lip. Why is everything she does so fucking sexy? “Um,” I tried to speak, a little lost for words when my brain conjured up the same image of her but instead of butter dripping from her mouth, it was my cum. “Horses. Let’s talk about horses.”
“I met one of your thoroughbreds today,” she said nonchalantly, her eyes flicking to me between bites. “She was nice. Young. Why hasn’t she sold?”
I wanted to bang my head against the table. Of course, she’d bring up that one particular horse. “Because she has health problems.”
“You don’t say?” she laughed. She wiped the little bit of butter from her chin, saving me from my own mind before it dripped down to her breasts. I’d surely have lost it then. “And how much money is that costing you?”
“Look, Lottie, I never said you were wrong.”
“No, but you did try to tell me it was a good idea to keep breeding them. Surely, not selling that horse and having to pay the medical bills is enough of a lesson not to breed them again.”
“This was supposed to be a safe subject.”
“Nothing's safe with you,” she grinned, something mischievous behind her eyes that caused me to get lost somewhere between lust and fear. She was a fucking vixen.
The rest of dinner proceeded much the same. A safe topic turned into an argument, and then another, and another. I felt like I was running in circles. I wanted to catch her in a moment of calm, to show off how well we could work when she was happy, before it crashed into flames.
She played up the role as we walked out, a few flashes catching her off guard. But she kissed me just before we entered the helicopter, longer than the one we shared in the restaurant. I told myself that deep down she meant it, and I began to wonder if the arguing was what turned her on in the first place.
But as soon as the helicopter doors closed and we were alone once again, she dropped my hand and her smile vanished. That glaze of icy anger was back, locked behind brick walls, and all I could wish for was a sledgehammer or a wrecking ball. But all I had were my hands and my words.
It was like having whiplash all goddamn evening. It was getting old and I was beginning to think it wasn’t worth it. My life would be a lot easier if she was only the manager of the breeding business, out of sight, out of mind. But I had goals, I had a plan for the entire business, and without her, I wouldn’t be able to achieve any of it.
I had to decide if bloody fingers were worth it.
Chapter 10
Lottie
Against my better judgment, I’d let him win yet again.
Things took off quickly and silently. Within a matter of twelve hours, photos of us were on the front page of the Boulder Daily Camera, the Denver Post, Colorado Daily, and they even made it far enough to reach a handful of nationwide tabloids. After twenty-four hours, we were the hottest new couple on social media, the most intriguing new couple according to Forbes, and coming soon, the most suspicious new couple when my father eventually found out.
Thankfully, he wasn’t really one to look at the news. I had to hold out hope that he wouldn’t spot something while he was out and about.
Hank, on the other hand, had definitely found out. When I’d walked into his office the following morning, all I could see were his bushy gray eyebrows over the top of a hard copy of the Denver Post. On the front page was a photo of me and Hunter sitting next to each other in that damned restaurant, his lips against my ear, and probably the fakest smile I’d ever given plastered across my face.
But Hank didn’t say anything about it.
If he cared, he didn’t let on. Maybe he truly didn’t give a damn about his boss or the woman who would be taking over for him in two weeks’ time. Or, perhaps more likely, he was too eager to get to retirement that it didn’t even phase him.
The other employees, however, seemed to have plenty to say. Just not directly to me.
I’d felt the lingering stares, heard the whispers as glances were exchanged. Irritated scoffs that had been quieter before were now obvious when I requested things from the stable hands. One had gone so far that she just blatantly ignored me.
If they disliked me before, they absolutely fucking hated me now.
Best of all, Hunter hadn’t even given me the decency of contacting me to let me know what would be running and when. He’d been a ghost for two days. Rumors and whispers of him being at the ranch made their way through the stables, but if he had been here, he’d been avoiding me. Maybe he’d changed his mind. A girl can only dream.
