Bad Boy Brody(8)

“Yes.” His grin widened. “It’s nice to officially meet you.” He stepped back, indicating his siblings. “This is Finn and Abby, my brother and sister.”

Finn gave a nod and a handshake, but Abby looked like a fan. Her eyes were wide, and she held her breath as I shook her hand. Then, ducking her head, she asked, “Can I get a hug? I know this might not be appropriate, but I’m a big fan.”

This relaxed me. Seeing wild horses burst through the trees? No. A fan? Absolutely. Abby just became my favorite Kellerman.

I went into full movie-star mode. Upping the smoldering effect on my eyes, my grin turned so it was half-cocky but also half-genuine as I hugged not only Abby but also the other females that approached. A few of the men wanted a hug, but most were fine with a handshake. I always got the once-over—the look each guy gave me to see what separated me from them. It was damned good genes, my mother’s high cheekbones, the square jaw from my dad, and a body that training seven days a week in a gym couldn’t get me. I did that, or I had until Kyle, but I still had muscle definition. I’d have to slip away for a run to tighten everything back up, but I knew I was blessed.

After all the introductions were done, most of the group returned back to the house, but Matthew stayed back with Gayle and me. The driver remained by the car, waiting for instructions on where to put our bags.

“How was the drive up?” Matthew’s smile seemed normal as he asked the question, but there was an edge of caution in his voice.

“It was eventful, that’s for sure,” Gayle said dryly, shooting me a look.

I narrowed my eyes, studying Kellerman as I stated, “A herd of horses ran in front of the car.”

He looked my way. That smile slipped a bit, tightening. “Horses?” His Adam’s apple moved up and down.

I glanced to Gayle and the driver. “I would’ve counted thirty or forty, maybe?”

“Those aren’t the horses we’re using for the movie, are they?”

He shook his head, saying to Gayle, “No, no. We have a few from a nearby ranch we’re using.”

“Are those your horses?” I was going over the script in my head. The few scenes that had horses in them were mild shots. There were no action sequences. The notes said the characters would go on an easy ride, with the focus on the conversation. There’d be the usual close-ups and a zoom-in of Karen holding hands with Peter.

“No. Uh.” He shifted his champagne glass to his other hand and scratched behind his neck. “There is a herd of mustangs in the area. The sanctuary here runs on some of our land, but I thought they had been moved to a different area. I’m sorry to hear that they ran out in front of your car. That isn’t normal. I guarantee.”

“Thank goodness for that. They were beautiful to watch, but it was so sudden. We could’ve had a nasty car accident . . .” Her voice trailed off, hearing her own words, and she turned to me. She reached out. “Oh, Brody.”

I’d already been thinking of Kyle and clipped my head in a brief nod. A damn drink would be nice. “Don’t worry about it. We can talk about car accidents. It almost happened just now.”

But I saw the guilt linger in her eyes.

“Ma’am.”

A soft cough from the driver.

“Oh!” Her hand pulled back. She asked Matthew, “Where do we unload our bags?”

Kellerman’s shoulders relaxed a little. “Yes!” He gestured toward the barn. “There’s a cabin down there where we put Brody,” he said and then turned to me. “We know you wanted your own space for privacy. Gayle, we have you in a room in the main home.”

“Excellent.”

She was in work mode. Her bags were taken out, and she went inside with the driver. I waited by the car, and Matthew turned to me again, his smile a bit hesitant. “So, Brody.”

I prepared myself. I’d heard the same tone from lawyers, reporters, and almost everyone else. It was the voice of someone who didn’t know me but thought they did.

He asked, “Are you comfortable with horses?”

I hadn’t expected that question. “I rode a few times as a kid with my brother, but that was probably twenty years ago.”

“Yes, yes.” He was nodding as if he knew what I was going to say before I said it. “So they didn’t scare you that much?”

I frowned. That was an odd question. “What do you mean?”

“I meant—” He stopped, his eyes narrowing for a bit. “Uh, I mean. Wild mustangs. They must’ve been a shock to see, right?”

“Yeah.” He was fishing.

“You said there were thirty or forty. Were you able to really see the horses? I mean, did you notice which one was the stallion?”

His questions weren’t what he wanted to know. He was asking something else.

Then I got it.

He wanted to know if I studied the horses—the image of that girl flashed in my mind again.

It had been her hair that had caught my eye. She’d been hugging her horse, her arms and legs wrapped around, and if I hadn’t been looking closely, I wouldn’t have seen her. Every inch of her had been plastered to that animal, as if she were an extra layer of skin on the mustang. And those eyes. I still felt the impact of them.

She’d only been wearing pants and a shirt, which was odd since it was fucking cold out.