by J. P. Oliver
As I speeded up, I reached around with one hand to stroke Whitt with the same rhythm. Our shouts of pleasure were one right after another, his seed coating my hand as the last spasms shook my body.
I stood on shaky legs and located towels, taking them from the heated towel rack and handing one to Whitt. He sat on the edge of the tub area, swallowing the last of his bourbon and refusing to look at me.
I had just experienced what might arguably be some of the best sex of my life, and my lover was staring into an empty whiskey glass. I knelt on the floor in front of him.
“What’s wrong, Whitt? Please. Talk to me.”
He looked at me then and stroked the side of my cheek. “Nothing, baby. You’re home. Everything’s great.”
I searched his expression, but it revealed nothing. A sense of impending doom lurked in the back of my brain, and I had no idea what to do about it. If he wouldn’t talk about it, I didn’t have a lot of options.
We spent the rest of the evening together, lying on the couch in the den, Ripper curled on Whitt’s lap, while we watched one of those reality survival shows. When we went to bed, Whitt curled around me, spooning me, while Ripper took the bottom third of the bed.
When I awoke, Whitt was already gone.
Whitt
The vibration of my cell phone had awakened me before dawn. It was my assistant, Will.
“Sorry to wake you so early, Whitt, Maitland’s executive assistant called me wanting to schedule a breakfast meeting with you at his club. Apologized for the short notice but said there were some urgent matters he needs to discuss with you.”
My mind was clicking through possible subjects as if I was flipping through a file drawer. I could only think of two: he had somehow found out about my relationship with Reece, or there was something going south with our deal. Of course, it could be both.
“Accept the meeting. What time do I need to be there?”
“Seven. This isn’t the club in Maysburg. It’s the one in the capital.”
“Shit,” I muttered rolling away from Reece who was still sleeping. “Call me a limo and driver. Have them here in a quarter hour.”
“Yes, sir. You want me to meet you there?”
I thought about a discussion that might focus on Reece and me. “No. If I need something, I’ll text, and have you push it out over our phones.”
“All right. I’ll keep my phone close, then.” I heard the relief in his voice. Will liked working from his home.
Rather than disturb Reece, who slept as though he’d had as little rest the past couple nights as I had, I gathered my clothes and went downstairs to the bathroom off my office. When I stepped out the front door twenty minutes later, Fred was standing next to the limo.
“Good morning, sir.”
“Hey, Fred. Nice to see a familiar face.” I slid into the back with my thermos of coffee and my tablet. I tried to keep calm about what I might be facing, but the possibilities kept turning over in my head. What I could gather from the situation was it couldn’t be good. Maitland had never requested a meeting this early, especially when we were so close to signing off on the deal.
My mind kept coming back to Reece. Sherry had even warned me to be careful, though I had refused to confirm her suspicions that Reece and I were friends on the most intimate of levels. What answer would I give Maitland if that was indeed the purpose of this morning’s meeting?
I was no closer to an answer when Fred opened my door outside Maitland’s exclusive club. A doorman, in full fancy uniform held the door to the building while I stepped inside. Maitland was conversing with a couple of men, but the moment he saw me, he excused himself and strode over to me.
His usual hearty smile was missing as he shook my hand. “Dailey, glad you could make this on such short notice. I’ve booked us a private room where we can dine and discuss business.”
“Of course.” My smile of greeting felt frozen, but I was determined to let him lead the way. I had to get a handle on what exactly this emergency entailed.
Maitland kept up some casual small talk, mentioning that his wife had seen me at the horse show, and asking about how the horses were doing. However, there was no additional mention about coming to hunt with him.
I tried to tamp down my nervousness, but I couldn’t help wondering if the invitation was going to be rescinded. His next words only made that fear start to bloom.
“I wanted to meet with you this morning because I received an anonymous phone call over the weekend.”
Here it was. It was almost a moment of déjà vu. An anonymous phone call was how coming out to my parents had begun.
“Quinn,” I began, but he held his hand up.
“I’m not a big fan of calls from people who refuse to identify themselves, but this caller raised some concerns about the deal we’re working on and the legitimacy of the figures I received from you with regard to recycling tonnage.”
Was it bad of me that my first emotion was relief that I could still keep my relationship with Reece private? Probably. Reece would certainly see it that way.
“Those figures are absolutely legit,” I insisted. “Will and I both checked them, but I can have Will go over them again with someone from your company working on it too, if that will restore your confidence in the numbers.”
Quinn leaned back in his chair with a smile. “I don’t think that will be necessary. You’ve just done that. Your very willingness to allow my guys in to help rework the numbers tells me everything I need to know about the veracity of my caller’s information.”
While my brain sagged with relief, I casually sipped the coffee that had been poured for me, and Quinn continued.
“I’ve thought a couple times about hanging it all up, retiring, and letting my son, who handles our operations in West Virginia, take over the whole shebang. Mary and I could finally take that foxhunting trip to Ireland we’ve talked about for years.” He leaned forward again, long, lean-fingered hands clasped together in front of him. “But you restore my confidence. It’s nice to know that honesty and integrity are still out there today.”
I nearly choked. I had been anything but honest with him. I had kept how much Reece Wilder meant to me as closely guarded as a state secret. In fact, I had made a point of what a professional Reece was, a friend, but with the clear implication that it was nothing more.
“You know, honesty is at the heart of every good relationship whether it’s business, friendship, but especially marriage.” He laughed. “I’m rattling on. Eat your breakfast. We need to pin down a timeframe for getting all the contracts in order.”
Damn if that didn’t sound like we had this nailed, but there was no way I was taking anything for granted until I had Maitland’s signature on every line. And at this point, if Maitland discovered how dishonest I had been about my relationship with Reece, it could tank everything.
19
Whitt
After Fred dropped me at the house, and I tied some loose ends on other deals I had in the works, it was after lunch before I could finally get to the barn. I still had uneasy feelings about where Reece and I were headed. My meeting this morning with Maitland hadn’t changed that, just the focus. Now my concern was not the relationship itself as much as it was having kept it under wraps.
But how did I go public when I had been so insistent that our friendship was exclusively a professional one?
So that was the mindset in which I walked into the barn to find Reece doing an inventory of all the tack in the tack room.
“What are you doing?” I asked, not at all sure what I was seeing other than what appeared to be bits and pieces of bridles and saddles scattered across the room.
“Checking stitching and wear and tear to the leather. Maysburg is this Saturday. You’re supposed to hunt Sunday. I can’t afford to have a stirrup leather or a rein break at the wrong moment.”
“Anything I can do to help?”
Reece raised his blue gaze to mine for a moment. “Get your horse ready if
you’re planning on a lesson.”
There was no spark there, nothing personal. I nodded curtly and turned to grab a lead shank so I could bring Bondage in and put him in cross ties before brushing him. For maybe the first time, I truly felt that I was little more than the student footing the bill so Reece could concentrate on his own horse.
Sherry and Jordy’s comments were taking root. I tried to ignore it as I went through the routine of getting Bondage ready to ride, but it was hard. Every time I stepped into the tack room where Reece continued to work as though I didn’t exist, I was reminded. The truth in what they had said was right there in front of me.
“I’m headed out to the ring,” I told him a few minutes later, sticking my head in the door before leading Bondage out without waiting for a reply. I mounted and began warming up as I usually did.
Reece appeared a few minutes later, putting Bondage and me through some gymnastic grids before having me practice with opening and closing a gate while mounted. There was nothing wrong in the instruction, just a feeling that Reece was going through the motions.
His usual grin was gone. After successfully completing a series of jumps and backing through a grid of ground poles, Reece called out, “Okay. That’s enough for this afternoon. Cool him out.”
In the past, he had always stuck around to talk to me while I walked Bondage on a loose rein. Today, he disappeared inside the barn. I dismounted, ran my stirrups up, secured the leathers, and began walking around the ring while the horse’s breathing returned to normal.
It felt as though we had somehow switched roles. Reece was suddenly the one consumed by business. The difference was, I was Reece’s business. As self-centered as that might be, maybe I needed to remind him of that.
I brought Bondage back inside the barn, put on his halter and removed the rest of his tack. Reece was outside the tack room door talking to Ricky.
“Let’s set a couple of triple combinations. That seems to be Satin’s bogeyman at the moment. You’ve got the striding, right?”
“Yeah. I’ll get started.”
I waited until Ricky had left before putting Bondage in his stall so he could eat some hay.
“You have a minute?” I asked Reece.
He glanced toward the ring. “Sure.”
“I kind of got the feeling just now in that lesson that I was imposing, that you had more important things to take care of.”
Reece’s gaze locked on mine, his brows furrowed. “We both have deadlines approaching Whitt. The Maysburg show is this Saturday.”
“So that’s an excuse to blow me off? You want to be all about business, and I want to figure out what exactly is going on with us.”
Reece glared at me now, his blue eyes colder than I had ever seen them. “If you want to know about us, Whitt, maybe you should talk to me instead of checking on me with former clients.” So Reece had found out about my conversation with Jordy. He raked a hand through his hair. For an instant I saw a flash of pain in his expression. Then it was gone. “Of course, I keep forgetting. We’re only a couple right here on the estate. Anywhere else I’m just your trainer.”
Okay. Now I felt defensive, not the position I wanted to be in. “That’s not fair. You know I have a lot hanging on this deal with Maitland. I’ve explained that.”
“So you’ve told me. Look, this isn’t getting us anywhere, and I have a lot to do this week.”
He brushed past me and stalked out to the ring. It was all I could do not to grab his arm and spin him around. I wanted to get this settled, hated feeling as insecure as I did right now. Damn it. I wasn’t about to be put off, but I wasn’t going to come across as hysterical either. As soon as I had my temper under control, I followed him, leaning against the rail as I watched Ricky and him move jumps, rebuilding them in different patterns from what we had been using for my lesson. What they were setting up looked monstrously huge. I watched in silence, waiting for my opportunity.
Reece was right about one thing. We both had a lot on our plates. This show was important to him. My deal with Maitland was my main focus. We were tired and tense. Something had to give. After a few minutes, Reece glanced over, saw I was still there, and headed in my direction.
My chest hurt as I watched him. He had gotten closer—physically and emotionally—to me than anyone in such a long time. But right now, this wasn’t working for either one of us, and I was about to make it so much worse.
He leaned his elbows on the top rail of the ring, scraping his hair back with one hand. He looked as tired as I felt. “What’s going on, Whitt? You obviously still have something on your mind.”
I dug my hands in my pockets, swallowing against the thickness clogging my throat. “I thought about what you said. You’re right.”
“About?” His look was weary and disheartened.
“We both have deadlines approaching, things that are critical for us. Maybe it would be best if we cooled it for a while until we both have time to talk and figure things out.”
His mouth tightened. He matched his mental withdrawal with a physical one, taking a step back from the fence and jamming his hands in his pockets just like me. He shook his head slightly as he stared at me.
“You’re the boss.”
With that, he turned and walked away.
I wanted to call him back, but it seemed pretty obvious that I was into this way more than Reece had ever been. I wondered how long it would be before he picked up and left.
And how long it would be before I could put it behind me.
20
Reece
Working Satin through the triples that Ricky and I had set in the ring helped me take my mind off Whitt, but only temporarily. And not in a good way. After the high of our success in Lexington, today’s work had been one blow up after another. Not only had Satin and I accomplished nothing, I felt as though we had regressed. So I left the ring and gave her a chance to blow off a little steam with a gallop along the grass trails. I cooled her and turned her over to Ricky to get her settled for the night.
I was tired, mentally and physically. And now I had to deal with the other part of my life headed down the toilet. I felt overwhelmed. Something had to give. Whitt had mentioned cooling things off, but I wasn’t sure how long he meant…or how much.
I had my answer when I went upstairs. I turned automatically toward the master suite, but as soon as I entered, I could see the belongings I had left on the bureau were no longer there. In an instant, all the breath whooshed from my body. Shit. Confusion made me slow to react for a moment. Turning on my heel, I crossed to the other side of the wide hall to the room that I had been using.
There, on the golden oak bureau were my personal items. I opened a drawer. My clothes were neatly folded. Same thing with the closet. I leaned heavily on the door jamb as I tried to take it in, tried to understand exactly what was happening.
Cooling things off apparently meant kicking me out of his room. My heart pounded as the next logical question followed quickly on that observation. How much longer before he dumped me altogether?
But oh, this was going to hurt so much more than losing a client. In my heart of hearts, I had been glad to see the backside of Jordy Edgerton. I had no wish to repeat that with Whitt—and he was so much more than a client.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, I slumped forward, my elbows on my knees and my hands clasped around the back of my neck. As I stared at the floor, my vision blurred. If this day was any gauge, not only was I going to fail with my horse on Saturday, I was going to lose the man I’d fallen in love with.
I was so stupid. I knew better than to get involved with clients. It never turned out well. But this was a disaster I didn’t think I could fix. Any attempt I made would only seem as though I were trying to save the steady paycheck and the fringe benefits being here provided.
I slipped back downstairs. The door to Whitt’s office was closed, though I could see a light from beneath the door. Tempted for a moment to confront him, I finally shook my h
ead, chickened out, and turned toward the kitchen, Ripper trotting along with me.
“Maybe Mrs. Knowles has left us some food. A bottle of whiskey along with it might do the trick.” Ripper tilted his head as if trying to figure out what I might want with whiskey.
Sleep would be nice, but I had a feeling nothing was going to help with that tonight. I had gotten used to Whitt’s arms in record time.
The following morning didn’t change anything, not my mood, and not the fact that I was no longer welcome in Whitt’s bed.
It was Ricky’s day off, so I was at the barn extra early, feeding and cleaning stalls. I had about finished when I heard the crunch of footsteps coming from the drive into the barn aisle.
Maybe Whitt had changed his mind, decided we needed to go ahead and clear the air. I could tell him how I felt, but when I stepped from the stall into the light of the barn aisle, it was Sherry Rowland approaching.
I braced my pitchfork against the wall. “Morning, Sherry. You’re up and about early.”
She sat on a couple of hay bales sitting along the opposite side of the aisle as though she were getting ready for a lengthy chat. I was ready for the insulated coffee mug and its contents that I had left in my office, not for conversation with a woman whose motives I thought were somewhat questionable.
“I had some things on my mind and was out for a walk when I noticed the lights on. Ricky off today?”
“Yeah. I think he’s spending some quality time with his girlfriend.”
“That’s part of what’s on my mind.”
“Ricky’s girlfriend?”
She looked at me archly. “You and your boyfriend.”
I kept my expression carefully blank. “My boyfriend?”
Sherry held my gaze. “Don’t play dumb, Reece. Maitland knows. It’s making the rounds in town how Whitt’s got you living at the house, buying you clothes and horses. Throwing money at you like it’s going out of style.”