Rein In (Willow Bay Stables #3)(12)

Deep in my heart, something shook and it wasn’t from the cold.





SWEAT RAVAGED MY BODY.

It was hot, so f*cking hot.

Somehow, in the span of a week, as May rolled into June, the sun had gotten hotter than a two-dollar pistol, and my skin felt like it was burning up.

Grabbing the shirt I’d stuffed in the back pocket of my jeans, I used it to wipe the sweat from my forehead.

“Hotter than the devil’s * out here today,” Dirt groaned.

We’d been working on a gate for one of the wood horse enclosures most of the morning.

“Watch how you talk ‘bout the Lord, boy,” Fun Bobby hissed and poured what was left of his water glass down the front of his bare chest.

I rolled my eyes behind my sunglasses. Sometimes it felt like he was filming con porn in his head or something with the way he behaved.

“Fact is,” Dirt started up again, “I’m sweatin’ like a whore in church, and this thing ain’t half done yet.”

The arches of my feet roared inside the weight of my motorcycle boots, and my back ached from the labor. I ignored both—the pain of a workingman felt satisfying.

“Quit bitchin’,” Glitch snapped at him.

The boy was so willowy, he looked like he’d snap in half if the sun got any hotter.

Dirt glared at him, and for a split second, I thought Glitch might have pissed himself in fear. Dirt was a huge guy.

Fun Bobby doubled over in laugher, clutching his sides while Glitch pitched a fit at being the only half-normal one of the four of us. He wasn’t all that wrong, though.

I was almost, close to itchin’ on forty percent, enjoying the day when that piece-of-shit convertible roared into the parking lot and parked next to her truck.

She’d been around two days already this week. Staying overnight in the main house and all. Rumor had it with the volunteers that she’d taken up some new job with Grant that involved her living here a few days a week.

I tried my best to pay no mind to her at all, especially since that night in the barn.

It’s possible I should have felt a whole lot more violated than I did, her sneaking up on me and all, but I didn’t, and I wasn’t all that ready to dive into why.

The loafer guy, who from eavesdropping on volunteers, I’d learned his name was Wells, left the engine running but folded out the car and started straight for us.

“Hey,” he hollered, and Fun Bobby groaned. “Any of you seen Aurora?”

Glitch opened his mouth to answer, but Dirt slapped him in the chest and shook his head. Glitch took the hint and shut his mouth up tight.

Loafers didn’t look pleased.

“Aurora!” he screamed into the courtyard. “Aurora!”

Within a few seconds, her blonde frame appeared in the open barn doors. Her hair was twisted up in some bun thing on the top of her head, and she’d forgone the boots in exchange for sneakers in the heat but otherwise, she looked as she did every day.

Her nose scrunched up at the sight of him, and when he opened his mouth to yell again, she stormed in his direction.

It was the first time in weeks of being here I’d seen her face twisted into anything but kindness, and I had to admit, she looked really cute all wound up.

“Wells!” she whisper-yelled as she approached. “What are you doing here?”

He reached forward to grab her, but she backed away. The hackles on my neck stood up.

“We need to talk,” he hissed.

She shook her head wildly and some fire lit up in her eyes. Yah, she looked cute when she was wound up, but I was sure as shit happy she wasn’t all wound up and loose in my direction.

“There’s nothing left to talk about.” Aurora crossed her arms over her chest and scowled at him.

His fingers curled around one of her wrists and he whined, actually whined. “It was an accident.”

Her nostrils flared and her eyebrows shot up to her forehead. “How exactly is you ending up in bed with Holly Holbrook an accident?”

“Ziiiiing,” Dirt hollered in their direction.

Loafers shot a scowl in his direction before tugging on Aurora’s wrist again. “I didn’t mean it.”

She rolled her eyes and stood her ground each time he pulled. “It was an accident or you didn’t mean it? Which one is it, Wells?”

“Point, baby girl,” Glitch whistled, and I shook my head.

We were four convicts acting as a peanut gallery, and it was more amusing than it should have been.

“You’re really going to let these guys talk to us like that?” Wells’s voice rose and the steel in my spine shackled together at his tone.

She laughed. “They’re not talking to us like that, they’re talking to you,” she corrected, and I couldn’t help the smile that crept its way onto my face. “And they can talk to you however they want.”

“I’m your boyfriend, damn it.” Loafers curled his other hand around her bicep.

“You were my boyfriend, Wells.” She shook her head, and for the first time during their altercation, she looked sad. “Not anymore.”

“Game. Set. Match.” Glitch cupped his hand under his mouth to act like an announcer, and I slapped him on the shoulder.

The boy was practically a toddler in need of a babysitter half the time.