Page 46 of Conceal

Competing has always been fun for me - the nerves of the day, the excitement from other competitors, testing Juliet and my skill. I never care about the results, but going up in competition level has driven our training. I have no dreams of the Olympics, but if I can still compete into my fifties and sixties like some of these women, I’ll have lived the perfect life.

It’s been four blissful weeks at the cabin. The lights came back on after three days. The snow melted after a week. And we’ve checked off every sexual thing on my list more than once.

Four of the best weeks of my life - because of my men. Because I’m pretty sure I fell in love with all three of them. I’d love them all for years - it turns out - that love was just platonic. I loved their company, their personalities, their loyalty, their sacrifice. It wasn’t until they opened my eyes to everything that sex can provide that I started to realize I didn’t want them just in the cabin. I want them more. I want them outside of the cabin. I want them on campus and in our apartment. I want them for good; I just have no idea how we can make it happen. But I’m determined.

But that’s a concern for another day.

Mik takes the far side of the girth from me and attaches it to the saddle on his side, tightening it just enough that it won’t fall off without irritating Juliet. We’ll give it a final tighten before I mount.

Lev’s relaxing in the mouth of the tack room section of the trailer, and Roman’s standing a few feet off, arms crossed, surveying the crowd. I think he’s being ridiculous, but I admire the shit out of how seriously he takes his job. It’s sexy as hell. It’s downright sinful that he took a bullet for me and is still out here, protecting me, like he’d never consider quitting.

It’s in the quiet moments in the cabin that I think they’ve been falling for me, too. It’s when Roman looks like he’s daydreaming, or trying to work out a complicated problem. It’s the way Mik has to touch me, even if it’s just linking our pinkies together. It’s the soft way Lev looks at me now, like he’s charmed and indulgent with my silly conversation.

After this, we’ll have a talk. We’ll figure something out.

Once she’s tacked up, I drop a kiss to her neck. “Be a good girl,” I whisper to her before grabbing Mik’s hand.

“I want to go watch for a bit,” I tell Roman as we pass him. It’s good to get a visual of the course and mentally ride through it, counting strides between jumps and deciding what angles to best approach each jump.

Roman falls in behind us and follows us to the starting gate, where an older woman on a chestnut mare takes off. She’s starting way faster than I would. You get penalized if you take the course too fast, but redheaded mares are known for being difficult to negotiate with.

A curvy woman with a strawberry blonde braid peeking out from under her helmet, riding a black horse, trots up next, trotting anxious circles near the starting gate. A tall Hispanic man approaches the horse, holding onto the reins to calm the horse, talking lowly with the woman. He’s looking up at her with concern. She’s smiling down at him lovingly.

And that’s when I recognize them.

The man is Rico, from the Colombian mafia, and the woman must be who I’ve heard rumors about - Hannah. I recognize him from the quarterly mafia dinners my father’s forced me to attend. Rico’s ruthless - not someone I’d want to cross in a dark alley, but the way he’s looking at his woman, and the way his woman is looking at him, makes my heart flutter.

I decide that the new Tatiana is brave and wants to meet the woman who saved herself and, in return, burned down part of the Italian mafia.

So I step forward.

“I didn’t know you rode,” I say when I’m close enough she can hear. Her head whips to the side to take me in, her smile dropping.

Rico immediately moves between her and me, hand reaching behind him for what I’m sure is a gun. Roman steps between Rico and I, posturing the same.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you. I’m Tatiana, Dimitri Chernov’s daughter.” I hold out my hand, but the two men between us mean she can’t take it.

“Bratva,” Rico growls, his scowl deepening.

“I’m as much Bratva as she is mafia,” I say, motioning towards his wife.

Hannah gathers her reins in one hand and rests her free hand on his shoulder. That must be their silent communication that he can stand down, because he moves aside. I like that. A woman with power over a powerful man. That’s kind of how I felt.

And rumor is, too, that she’s got three of them. If she can do it, I can.

I step around Roman and take her hand. She smiles warmly at me.

“Us girls need to stick together,” she says, and I couldn’t agree more.

“Hannah, right? Can I get your number after this?” I ask, just as the gate agent calls her up to start. “It’d be nice to ride together someday.” And it’d be nice to pick her brain about how she makes their relationship work.

She smiles. “I’d like that a lot.” She trots over and circles tightly, getting in the zone.

I smile, pleased with myself. I might have just made a friend.

Hannah takes off when the gate agent nods at her, but that’s when I realize Roman and Rico are still standing in a stare-down.

“I have nothing to do with the business. If my father or brother pissed you off or hurt you somehow, I know nothing about it.”