Page 14 of Lost Trust

Since I was six years old, my job has consisted of climbing onto the back of a thousand-pound horse and running cloverleaf patterns.

I won my first buckle before I was old enough to drive. Won my first world championship before I could legally drink. And I won my last one five years ago, at the ripe old age of twenty-one.

My fingers instinctively brush the simple silver horseshoe necklace resting against my collarbone.

Five years since I found out I was pregnant with Ryder. Five years since I climbed off my horse after that final run, smiling for cameras that had no idea they were photographing the last competitive ride of my career.

I had every intention of coming back. Just one season off. Maybe two. But life had other plans.

The elevator slows and stops on the twenty-fifth floor.

The doors slide open, and I barely glance up.

Then I hear a familiar voice.

“Well, I’ll be damned.”

I look up, and my breath catches.

Bryce Raintree fills the doorway—broad shoulders beneath a navy sports coat, dark jeans, and expensive boots. He’s cleaned up since the last time I saw him, but there are still traces of the cowboy who spent years climbing over bucking chutes.

His face breaks into a grin. “Marina Kincade. As I live and breathe.”

The folder nearly slips from my hand as he steps inside, and the door closes behind him.

“Where the hell have you been?”

Before I can answer, he opens his arms, and I step into them. His hug is warm and comforting, in a way he couldn’t possibly understand.

“Bryce, oh my God. It’s so good to see you.”

For one brief moment, I’m eighteen again, standing behind the bucking chutes while Bryce teases me for talking to my mare before every run.

The rodeo family is funny that way. Months can pass. Years even. Then you see someone again, and it feels like no time has gone by at all.

He pulls back, still smiling. “You look—” He stops, and his smile fades. “You okay?”

And just like that, everything I’ve been holding together since leaving my accountant’s office starts to unravel.

I blink hard, willing myself not to cry. Not here, in an elevator. Not in front of my old friend.

But my chin trembles anyway.

Bryce’s expression shifts instantly from surprise to concern. “Hey.” His voice softens. “What’s wrong?”

I shake my head. “I’m sorry. You just caught me on a bad day.” I laugh once, bitterly, and a tear escapes my eye despite my best efforts.

He studies me closely as the elevator continues descending.

“I just came from my business manager,” he says quietly. “I’ve got nowhere I need to be until nine. You want to get a coffee?”

I blink up at him. “Coffee?”

He shrugs. “Yeah. I saw a shop across the street when I arrived this morning. I was just heading there now.”

“I really should—”

“You should have a coffee,” he finishes for me.