all roads lead to you

by Probst, Jennifer

  He lifted her hips and slid home in one perfect thrust.

  Buried to the hilt, he pushed back her hair and stared deep into her eyes.

  “Watch me, Harper. I want to see your face when you come.”

  She shuddered. He moved. With graceful, deliberate strokes, he surged deep, rolling his hips to hit that magic spot that shimmered with electricity, then slowly pulled out.

  And slammed back inside her.

  Again.

  Again.

  Her nails bit into his back. Her heels dug into his ass. She writhed and reached and still his gaze locked on hers, refusing to allow her to hide, and the raw vulnerability of the intense connection broke down the last barrier. The orgasm shattered through her, breaking her apart with agonizing pleasure, and he saw it all.

  His lips took hers, his tongue plunged deep, and he came, his body jerking as he gave himself to her. She clutched him tightly, limbs wrapped around his, and knew her heart had been waiting all this time for the man she was meant to love.

  Tears stung behind her lids. She buried her face in his shoulder and prayed she’d be strong enough to let him go.

  When it was time.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The Champagne Stakes held at Belmont Park was a highly anticipated race in the quest toward the ultimate Crown. Harper wasn’t a person easily impressed by either celebrity or money, but when she caught Todd Pletcher, William Mott, and Bob Baffert—with his trademark gray hair—wishing her good luck on the race? Well, she almost lost it.

  Aidan didn’t bother to hide his amusement at her sudden starstruck, temporary muteness meeting the famous horse trainers. He’d called her cute, and the insult was enough to snap her out of the fog.

  Now, she was ready to watch Phoenix race.

  The fall afternoon was crisp with the perfect bite of chill in the air. Elmo looked striking in his robin’s egg–blue silks, and Phoenix was in good spirits, prancing toward the starting gate with his blinkers wrapped snugly around his head. Harper’s belly jumped with nerves, but it was the other gut feeling that threw her off the most.

  The instinct that Phoenix was going to win the race.

  She snuck a glance at Aidan and studied his profile. He’d been comfortable greeting all the players in an industry that was known for a sharklike ruthlessness among gentle beasts. The television crews, reporters, and announcers brought a certain chaos she wasn’t used to. Aidan had warned her beforehand, schooling her appropriately on the proper responses to specific questions, drilling her like a lawyer with a witness about to take the stand.

  She’d hated every moment, but today, she was grateful for his lessons, knowing if Phoenix did what she hoped, there’d be only more press and craziness to deal with.

  The announcer broke into her thoughts. “And they’re in the gate.”

  Aidan reached out and took her hand. Seemed he didn’t give a crap who knew about their relationship, even in public. He refused to hide her as a dirty secret, even if they did have a professional working relationship.

  Good. She didn’t care about gossip, either. After all she’d been through, she’d emerged stronger. Hard lessons had been learned in the battleground of high school. They’d serve her well now.

  “And they’re off!”

  The field was big this year, and talented. The well-known trainers had a few entries, with a mix of unknowns from various barns, but she was probably the most green out of all. At first, she’d devoured the newspaper stories, trying to handicap the field, but when the majority of analyzers threw Phoenix out as a poor choice and a “lucky onetime winner,” she stopped reading.

  Action was better than words any day.

  Gaze glued to her binoculars, Harper watched the one-mile race, which took place on a fast, dry track. Phoenix had a good break, and Elmo got him to the front without much fuss. She could tell the ride was easy, and Phoenix was comfortably breezing past the first-quarter pole, his legs eating up ground and space like he was meant to fly rather than run.

  The announcer’s voice echoed over the loudspeaker. “Phoenix takes the early lead in the twelve-horse field, but Lacey’s Due and White Cliff are right behind. In the Money is three and a half lengths back, with Dangerzone on the far outside, and Wicked Wind, the favorite, is trailing behind.”

  “He’s running like a champion,” Aidan muttered, his voice full of excitement and a touch of fear.

  She couldn’t answer. Nerves shredded, she nibbled at her lip and prayed while Phoenix battled for the lead as an entire field of horses chased him.

  “Phoenix, Lacey’s Due, and White Cliff barrel around the far turn, with Dangerzone falling back, and In the Money at the rail. Steve’s Sad Sister is now four lengths behind and beginning to challenge for the lead, but it’s still a tight race as they head to the backstretch.”

  Nausea mixed with excitement in a cocktail she doubted she could handle. The impulse to close her eyes was strong, but she battled through, forcing herself to watch every tension-filled second as Phoenix barely maintained the fragile lead that she prayed he’d be able to hold.

  “Down the backstretch they come! Phoenix is still in the lead with Lacey’s Due and White Cliff a length back, and here comes Wicked Wind making his move! Wicked Wind passes Dangerzone and In the Money, and they’re thundering down the final stretch! It’s Phoenix still in the lead, with White Cliff a length behind. Lacey’s Due is two lengths back, but Wicked Wind is closing the gap in a spectacular move! White Cliff falls behind to make way for Wicked Wind, and Lacey’s Due can’t keep up. Here comes Wicked Wind, the closer, as they near the finish line. Phoenix is hanging on. Wicked Wind is now two lengths back in the final challenge, and it’s . . . Phoenix! For the win! Wicked Wind is second, and White Cliff is third, in the official running of the Champagne Stakes!”

  Her heart stopped.

  The crowds roared, and cameras flashed. She watched as Elmo stood up in the stirrups, kissing his fingers and putting them up to the sky in his trademark thank-you, and that beautiful, perfect, gorgeous horse with a fierce heart and temper pranced down the track.

  “We won,” she said. Her hands shook fiercely, and shock crawled over her body, making the entire scene feel like a dream. “We’re going to the Breeders’ Cup. On their dime.”

  Aidan looked down at her, grinning, then threw back his head and shouted with triumph. He seemed to soak up the spotlight, charming reporters and smiling for the camera while she hid on the sidelines. Watching him take command with a sense of pride etched in his features made her realize he was born for the winner’s circle.

  Just like Phoenix.

  “So the Breeders’ Cup Juvenile is in November at Churchill Downs,” Ophelia said, handing Aidan his bowl filled to the brim with Irish beef stew.

  He almost wept but didn’t want to do it in front of Kyle and Ethan. The chunks of flavorful meat mixed in the perfect broth and set off the crisp potatoes and carrots, and dear God, was that stout?

  “Yes, we’ll need to be in Kentucky in about three weeks,” Harper said, grabbing a chunk of French bread and dipping it in the broth.

  “How did it feel watching him cross the finish line?” Mia asked in wonderment.

  Pride and joy shone from Harper’s face. “It felt like Mom was right there smiling and cheering with us. It felt like Phoenix was telling his previous owners a big fuck you. It felt damn amazing.”

  “Amen to that,” Mia said, raising her glass of wine. “You may be going to the Derby, guys!”

  Aidan smiled. “We plan on it,” he said. “But the next hurdle is crucial. We want him to make a decent showing to keep focused on the road to the Derby. I’m mostly concerned with the amount of travel for this race. We’ve been racing him in New York, but out of state may be a challenge.”

  “We need to get Captain Hoof a passport,” Ophelia said with a laugh. “Damn, we wish we could go with you.”

  “I know, but it’s so important you stay to handle things here,” Harper said. “
I appreciate you all doing so much to allow us to get this far.”

  “What do you need to do with Phoenix next?” Kyle asked curiously.

  Aidan managed to lay down his spoon for a moment. “Keep him engaged and fit, but he needs a lot of rest. He just turned three, and it’s a delicate balance when racing at this age. My goal is to keep him healthy and happy. So less iced oatmeal cookies for a while.”

  Harper lifted a brow. “Like Rocky in training, huh? Are raw eggs next?”

  Mia groaned. “Ugh, gross!”

  Elmo frowned. “What is Rocky? They make movies I never heard of.”

  The women at the table shared a dangerous look. Then they shrieked all together in perfect unison. “Movie night!”

  Kyle and Ethan groaned. “Not again. We watched Coco with Chloe, and I couldn’t stop singing that song,” Ethan grumbled. “Plus, she cried. I hate when she cries.”

  “‘Remember Me.’” Ophelia sighed, her eyes a dreamy blue. “So beautiful. It won the Academy Award, you know?”

  “I loved Coco!” Mia said. “Crying at Disney movies cleanses a woman’s soul. It’s like a purity ritual, and we come out stronger.”

  “Count me out, too,” Kyle said.

  “Guys! Elmo and Aidan need to see one of the newest Disney movies. It’s our responsibility to introduce them to greatness,” Harper said.

  Aidan stared at her, amused at her passion over these cartoon movies. Sure, he’d seen the classic Peter Pan and various Mickey Mouse, but weren’t they for children? Why was his fierce warrior woman so enchanted with Disney? Was it all those cute, cuddly animals?

  “I will do it,” Elmo announced. “Pick a good one.”

  Kyle and Ethan shot Aidan a look. But once he registered the excitement on Harper’s face, he was doomed. “Okay, I’m in,” he agreed.

  “Shit,” Kyle said glumly. “There goes Road House.”

  “Again?” Ophelia squeaked. “I love Patrick Swayze and Sam Elliott, but I just don’t get the appeal of that movie. The plot is lame.”

  “Great movie,” Aidan said.

  Kyle and Ethan glared at him, still unforgiving for the Disney fail.

  Harper practically jumped in her seat, and it was worth being out of the men’s club for a while. “I vote for Moana,” she said.

  “Yes, it’s perfect,” Ophelia agreed. “They can see Hei Hei’s namesake.”

  Mia nodded, and just like that, movie night was official.

  “Ophelia, this stew is amazing,” Aidan said. “Is the recipe from your mom?”

  “Close. We had to make a few changes,” she said, her eyes flashing with mischief.

  Harper frowned. “What changes? Tastes just as good as Mom’s. Better, even. What’d you do?”

  Ophelia sighed. “Well, the original recipe calls for kid goat, but I swapped it out for beef. Now if we can only give up eating chicken, we may be okay around here.”

  Harper’s jaw dropped. “Mom used goat?” she whispered in horror.

  “I’m sure she didn’t,” her sister rushed on. “It was written down in the original recipe, but Mom used the grass-fed beef from Kiernan Farm. It was just a bit startling when I riffled through her recipes and found it.”

  The table fell silent. “Poor Captain Hoof,” Mia said mournfully. “Can you imagine?”

  And then it happened. Ethan broke first, a tiny grin cracking the corner of his mouth. Kyle pressed his lips together, hard. Mirth danced in Ophelia’s eyes. But one by one, the grins won out, and everyone burst into laughter.

  “You’re all sick,” Harper announced, but Aidan caught the humor in her sea-green eyes before she was able to hide it, and he ended up laughing harder.

  A few hours later, after the dishes were washed and the table cleared, they settled in the rear sitting room with the giant flat-screen television and a comfortable, large sectional to accommodate everyone. Shoes were kicked off, blankets were passed around, buttered-popcorn buckets distributed, and Aidan held an ice-cold IPA in his hand. The women drank Prosecco in delicate glasses of colored crystal. He had no idea an at-home movie night could feel like a red-carpet premiere.

  Settled into the cushion, with his arm slung around Harper’s shoulder and her head resting on his chest, a sense of contentment and peace rippled through him. The night she’d confessed her intention to commit suicide, something had changed between them. It had gone beyond sex into an almost soulful connection. She’d spilled her innermost secret, trusting him to keep it safe, and the gift only made him want to share more of himself. He’d finally met a woman strong enough not only to match him, but challenge him to push harder, take chances, and do more.

  Be more.

  For both of them.

  Temporarily.

  The warning voice inside told him not to get too comfortable or settled or happy, because at the end of the road, he was leaving. His journey had only one good ending for both of them: win the Triple Crown. That’s it.

  But he had eight months left. Eight months could be an entire lifetime to enjoy Harper Bishop. He didn’t intend to miss a moment.

  Usually, he heeded the voice. It kept him sharp and focused. It kept him on task and protected.

  Tonight, he’d shut it down, lock it up, and watch Moana.

  “What are you humming?”

  Aidan continued kissing each of her fingers, marveling at the beauty of her hands. Long, tapered fingers. Square, short, unpainted nails that showed off perfect half moons. Palms rough, a few old blisters still lingering. Graceful and strong, just like the woman. Who was currently in bed, naked, and trying to grill him. “Nothing.” He slipped each finger into his mouth and sucked, scoring the pad with his teeth.

  She pulled in a breath, and he hid a smile from her heated response. She was such a pleasure in bed—easy to please, giving and creative and passionate. Hours flew by like seconds. He’d begun dreading the sunrise because he had to finally release her from his arms. He figured he’d finally distracted her, but he should have realized his woman was too savvy for such a simple diversion.

  “Lie. You’re singing ‘You’re Welcome’ from Moana. I saw you tear up at the end.”

  “Ridiculous. Real men don’t cry.” He nipped at her palm in punishment, extending her arm to begin trailing kisses upward. “But it was definitely a kick-ass movie. The sailing, and the adventure, and those cool tats on Maui. Plus, Hei Hei. Doesn’t get much better than that.”

  “Told ya.”

  He refocused, tugging down the sheet to study her small, defined breasts. He licked her peach-colored nipple, watching with satisfaction as the tip grew hard and swollen under his ministrations. Her muscles tightened underneath him, and a low moan escaped her throat. “Irish? What are you doing?”

  “Investigating.”

  She laughed, tangling her fingers in his hair, arching upward. “You just did a thorough investigation less than a half hour ago.”

  “I need more evidence of my amazing prowess in bed.”

  She laughed again, then stopped when his fingers slipped into her warm, wet heat. He watched her face as she began to fall apart, completely giving under his touch. She made him feel like fucking Superman with one look. She’d bewitched and captivated him, and he now knew he was completely in love with her.

  A piece of his heart crumbled, so he gave her what he could—pure pleasure from his body and mouth, slipping down to taste her spicy essence, until her screams as she fell apart under his tongue rang in the air and erased all other thoughts.

  Later, he held her in the dark and stroked her hair.

  “What’s your favorite part about Ireland?” she sleepily murmured.

  “The Irish stew.” She tried to playfully smack him, but she was too tired. He laughed, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Kidding. I’d say the land. The mix of raw rock and vivid green. The thickness in the air when it rains, and the clean scent when the storms pass, as if it’s washed away all your sins. The tainted glory of stone castles, half-broken, climbing up
from the valley, as if still battling the past. The glassy, cold surface of the lakes reflecting towering trees. The sprawl of endless horses grazing in the pasture under a weak sun.” His mind turned to all the good things about his home, ignoring all the empty, lonely hours that had taken up his days before he’d met her.

  “God, that was so beautiful,” she whispered. “I saw it in my mind better than a picture.”

  “Reminds me of Gardiner. Small town where everyone knows your business, but you’re family. Mountains and greens, lakes and pastures. Horses. Polish chickens and baby goats dressed in costumes.” His fingers drifted over her lips and found her smiling. He breathed in the scent of cocoa butter on her skin and wished the moment never had to end.

  “Are you glad you stayed?”

  The question—asked hesitantly—was so much more than he’d ever be able to answer. His chest tightened at the idea she could doubt how much she meant to him. So he held her closer and gave her what he could.

  “Every day I get to hold you, work with you, laugh with you, I’m happy, Harper. I’m not glad. I’m fucking humbled and grateful you gave me the opportunity to work with Phoenix and eat with your family, and that you welcomed me into your bed. You have to believe that.”

  A soft breath whispered in the air. “I do. And I feel the same way about you.”

  Her words hit him directly in the gut and shattered his defenses. He squeezed his eyes shut, craving to tell her the ridiculous confession that he’d fallen in love with her, but he bit it back, knowing it didn’t matter. He’d leave. She’d stay. There was no future for them.

  Better to keep it this way.

  But the Irish expression rose up and escaped his lips in the only way he could tell her how he felt. “Mo stór.” My treasure.

  Silently, his heart screamed another endearment. Mo grá.

  My love.