Breaking the Reins

by Juliana Haygert

  Their cars—five of them, including Leo’s Grand Cherokee—were in the big parking area to the side of the house. I parked my car among them, grabbed my cell phone from the console, and stepped out.

  As I approached the house, his parents opened the door and stepped onto the porch.

  His mother, Agnes, had her hair pulled into a loose ponytail and wore a green cotton sundress with a flowing skirt. His father, João Pedro, wore a brown bombacha, a blue sash around his waist, white shirt, and suede cowboy boots. He was holding something like a wooden cone … with a silver straw?

  “Boa tarde,” he said, his accent heavy, then shook his head. “Sorry, force of habit. Good afternoon, Miss Taylor.”

  “Hello, Mr. Fernandes, Mrs. Fernandes.”

  “Por favor, call us by our first names,” Agnes said, waving her hand at me. “We almost never call someone by their last name in Brazil.” She ushered me inside the house, and I smiled.

  I couldn’t help looking around. When the O’Connors still lived here, this house was as grandiose on the inside as the outside, with imposing neutral-toned furniture, priceless paintings and decor pieces, Persian rugs, and crystal chandeliers. Now, the furniture and decoration had changed, giving place to more rustic, more friendly tones. Large, reclining sofas, with several mismatching pillows were thrown everywhere, including the floor, and there were no rugs, almost no paintings, and lots of family portraits. It was warm and inviting and comforting.

  We crossed the large hallway leading to the kitchen¸ and I glanced over the portraits on the walls. All about polo. All of them, including João Pedro, playing polo. No ceremony awards, no championship podiums. Just them, on their horses, running around with big smiles.

  In the kitchen, Agnes went directly to the island and resumed chopping onions. João Pedro leaned on the counter beside her.

  He took a sip of whatever he was drinking out of that odd … cup, then turned his smile to me. “What do we owe your lovely visit?”

  I inhaled sharply, then burst out, “I’m having trouble with a mistreated horse and I wanted to ask Leonardo for help.”

  “Ah yes, he’s good with horses,” Agnes said. “He told us a little about your horse, about what happened to him. Such a shame, poor animal.”

  Leonardo had talked about Argus—about me—to his parents? Crap.

  João Pedro reached over to a thermal bottle, squeezed hot water from it to the thing he had in hand, then passed it to Agnes. He caught my gaze and laughed. “This is called chimarrão. It’s a typical drink from the south of Brazil. It’s like a tea.”

  “But it’s not sweet,” Agnes added, before sipping from the silver straw. “This”—she pointed to the cup—“is called cuia, and this”—she pointed to the straw—“is called bomba.”

  When she was done with the chimarrão, she added more hot water and gave the cuia to her husband.

  “So.” I clasped my hands together. “Is Leonardo home?”

  “Yes,” Agnes said. “He’s with the others about a mile that way.” She pointed her finger to the door, supposedly the direction they were at.

  “Near the lake,” I said.

  “Exactly,” she said. “Of course, you probably know this ranch better than we do.”

  I started for the back door, but João Pedro’s words stopped me. “You’re going to walk there? They rode their horses. Why don’t you take one of our horses?”

  Me? Riding a horse? “Hmm, no, thanks. I need the exercise.”

  I hurried out before they could see the bright red color spread over my face.

  I need the exercise? What crap of a response was that?

  As I walked the path leading to the lake, I almost regretted saying ‘no’ to a horse. The sun was baking my head─I had left my hat in my car─?and I was pretty sure my tank top had a sweat blotch on the back.

  Peachy.

  I pulled my hair up in a ponytail and kept on marching. The last three hundred yards were easier, though, as it was slightly downhill.

  After twenty minutes of this nonsense, I saw them and halted, my mouth open.

  Their horses were tied to a tree to my right, and they were driving trucks—monster trucks—in a race of sorts. I resumed walking, getting closer to their improvised race field, and observed the game.

  Guilherme drove an orange and white truck, with Pedro in the passenger seat. Every few seconds, Pedro put his arm out, tapped hard on the door, and yelled, as if to taunt the others. Ricardo drove a blue truck with white and black lines. He also yelled a couple of times, but he mostly just laughed. Leo drove a black and red truck, with Bia seated beside him. From what I could see, he had a cowboy hat on, but no shirt. And that was confirmed when he put his head out through the window and howled, showing off his bare shoulders, while Bia bumped her hands on the door, her grin spreading from ear to ear.

  Gosh, they were crazy.

  Good crazy. But crazy.

  And apparently, they knew how to have fun.

  Ricardo hit the brakes and honked the horn three times. It must have been some sort of signal, because the other two trucks came to a stop right after. He pointed to me, and all heads turned my way.

  Leo’s eyes widened, and a slow smile spread over his mouth. He started the truck again and drove it close to the edge of the field, skidding to a stop a couple of yards from where I stood.

  My heartbeat skyrocket as he got out of the truck and removed his hat. He was shirtless, and his chiseled chest and abs glistened with a thin layer of sweat. I couldn’t help but ogle his body, down to the small patch of dark hair poking from under the waist of his fitted jeans.

  Lord, help me!

  “Hey, guria!” Bia shouted. She was seated with half of her body out of the truck’s window. “What are you doing here?”

  “I … I …”

  “Don’t bother her, Bia.” Leo jogged to me, his hair damp, framing the sharp lines of his face, and emphasizing the green-blue shade of his eyes. I was doomed. “Hey! What are you doing here?”

  “I … I …”

  “Hey.” He stood right in front of me, his lean body looming too close to mine. I could actually feel the heat coming from him. “I didn’t mean it as a bad thing. I’m surprised, but glad you’re here.”

  Well, I was here on a mission and wouldn’t fall for his charms.

  I looked around, searching for any goddamn topic to distract me.

  I gestured toward the field. “You’re destroying it.” Before their little game, the grass was like a shiny carpet for the horses to exercise. Now, the grass was mostly gone, and mud took over.

  “Yeah, but there are lots of acres on this property, and we only keep a dozen horses at this ranch.” He looked around me. “How did you get here?”

  “I walked.”

  His eyes widened. “You walked? From your ranch …?”

  “Of course not. I parked my car at your house. Your father offered me a horse, but I preferred the walk.”

  “First, you prefer walking than riding a horse? Then you like horses less than I thought you did. Second”—he closed his mouth for a second, and his jaw ticked—“you talked to my father?”

  “Yes. Your parents told me you were out here.”

  He took a step closer and I held my ground, tilting my head up to stare into his eyes. “So, you were looking for me.” The gleam in his eyes changed from surprised to curious.

  I was about to play a dangerous game. “Yes. I need your—”

  A loud honk startled me and I lost my words. I looked to the source, but only saw Guilherme and Ricardo exiting their trucks, which they parked flanking Leo’s. They greeted me as if I was a regular guest in their house. I waved back.

  “Come on.” With his hand on my back, Leo led me closer to his truck. It was huge, with the wheels probably around five feet in diameter.

  Leo climbed over the wheel, and opened the passenger door. “Vai com o Ricardo,” he said to Bia.

  With a wicked grin, she jumped off the truck. �
��Have fun,” she whispered and winked, before racing to her older brother’s truck.

  “She’s in!” Leo shouted to his brothers, jumping down. They nodded before driving away.

  “What?” I turned to Leo, my eyes wide.

  He offered me the same wicked grin Bia had just showed me, and beckoned me to enter his truck. “Come on. It’ll be fun. I promise.”

  His hand gently wrapped around my waist—I suppressed a shiver—and slightly pushed me toward his truck. I hesitated and turned my back to the truck.

  My gaze went directly to his mouth. I shook my head and forced myself to look into his eyes.

  With his boyish grin back on, he tugged me at the waist and nodded to the truck’s door. “Try it for thirty seconds. If you don’t like it, tell me and I’ll let you out. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Leo brought his other hand to my waist and helped me up, instructing me where to put my feet to climb this monster. He climbed up behind me. Remaining outside the truck, he grabbed the belt and leaned over to buckle the seat belt. I sucked in a deep breath when his arm brushed against my breasts, and regretted it half a second later as his delicious spicy wooden scent mixed with sweat flooded my senses. His head snapped to mine. Too close. Too, too close. My gaze shifted to his mouth again.

  We stayed there for what seemed like an eternity, our breathing growing louder, our eyes flickering from our mouths to our eyes and back again. I saw his hands reaching over, but he pulled away before touching me.

  Cursing in Portuguese, he jumped down, jogged around the truck, climbed to his seat behind the wheel, and put on his seat belt.

  With a lopsided grin, he said, “Are you ready?”

  Before I could answer, he turned the keys and the engine roared to life. The truck vibrated and hummed, and adrenaline began working in my system.

  Okay, this can be fun.

  “Now, for the right soundtrack.” He turned on the stereo to Truck Yeah by Tim McGraw, and I smiled.

  He hit the gas and we were off. I slapped my hand over the door and held on tight as he sped up, going directly into Ricardo’s path. I tensed with each yard he drove.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, recoiling into the seat.

  “Wait,” Leo whispered.

  They were a few yards away when both turned their trucks to opposite sides. I was yanked to the side and actually laughed as the tension bubble was gone.

  “Galinha,” Leo cried out of his window.

  Ricardo yelled something back, but with the music, the engines, and the language barrier, I couldn’t make out a syllable.

  Then we were in Guilherme’s path. This time, Leo held on. I watched his profile as he stared at his cousin, defiance in his expression, a sense of power in his features. It was hot. My gaze traveled down to his shirtless torso, to his taut muscles and six pack abs. He was incredibly hot.

  I fanned myself, wishing I could jump into the lake to cool off.

  I couldn’t deny it anymore. I had admitted to myself I didn’t love Eric anymore, that I needed to break things off between us, and I needed to be honest right now too.

  I was into Leo. I was into him way too much. Maybe it was because he was the most gorgeous and hottest guy I had ever laid eyes on, or maybe it was because he cared about horses as much as I did, or maybe it was because he came into my life during a bad moment and made things a little better. Or maybe it was all of the above and more. I didn’t care about the reason, I just cared that I now could breathe again, that I could actually think about him, about his body, about his mouth, about his smile, without feeling guilty, without telling myself it was a fleeting crush.

  It wasn’t.

  However, things weren’t that simple. Even if Leo still wanted me, I had to solve heap loads of problems I had with Eric first. In my mind, Eric wasn’t my boyfriend anymore. He hadn’t been since I first realized I didn’t love him anymore, and it only got worse after he hit me. But in Eric’s mind, I was still his girlfriend.

  My attention was brought back to the present when Leo said, “Watch this.”

  He was focused on the game and kept on driving straight to Guilherme’s truck.

  I sank into the seat, regretting my decision to have entered the truck.

  “Don’t worry. He’ll back out. He always does.” Leo quickly glanced to me, then past me, and he frowned. “Droga.” I was about to look to the side, to whatever he had seen, when he reached over with his right hand and clasped my leg just above my knee. I held my breath. “Hold on.”

  And I did. He probably didn’t mean it like it sounded, but I grabbed his arm for dear life, bringing his hand up my leg a little without really meaning to. His skin was hot, and his muscles were hard under my palm.

  He hissed. “I hate to say this, but we’re gonna crash if I don’t have my hand back.”

  I let go quickly. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry.” With a lopsided grin, he turned the truck ninety degrees to the left, and, after ten seconds, he turned one hundred and twenty degrees to the right.

  That was when I saw Ricardo’s truck coming from the right, flying past Guilherme’s truck and shaving inches off it. If Leo hadn’t seen Ricardo coming, he would have hit us, right on my side.

  “Veado,” Ricardo yelled from the open window of his truck. One more Portuguese word I didn’t know.

  Slowing down, Leo drove his truck to the edge of the field. He turned to me, his eyes shining. “Don’t ever be sorry for touching me, morena. For letting me touch you.” My breath hitched. Oh crap.

  He cursed under his breath and accelerated.

  I watched over my shoulder and saw Guilherme coming at us. He missed us by a few inches, and that brought a whole new level of worry.

  “Do you guys ever crash?”

  Leo stepped on the gas and drove away from Guilherme. “Yup. All the time.”

  “Do you ever get really hurt?”

  “Not really. Just a few scratches here and there.” He shot me a devilish grin, and my heart rate went up. “Don’t worry. I won’t let you get hurt.”

  His words should have brought assurance to me, but instead I flinched, remembering similar words Eric said to me not long ago. You know I would never hurt you.

  What if all men were like Eric? Charming, lying, deceiving, abusing?

  When I noticed, I had recoiled from Leo, my side glued to the door.

  He turned the truck to the right, avoiding Guilherme’s maneuver and causing me to move closer. Once the truck was straight, I hurried to the corner again.

  “What’s wrong?” Leo asked, his tone laced with worry.

  “Nothing.”

  “I don’t think so.” Leo glanced at me, his eyes pleading. “Talk to me. You know you can tell me anything.”

  I couldn’t. If I told him, he would make me go to the police, and I couldn’t do that. Not because I was afraid Eric would be more enraged and come after me. No. I actually thought that would stop him and make him stay away. But, it would ruin the lives and careers and businesses of everyone around us. The club, the ranch, the breeding farm, Eric’s family business, even the United States Polo Association would be tainted in this mess. I couldn’t bring myself to be the cause of all that. No. I had to find a way to deal with it quietly.

  “It’s nothing,” I whispered.

  Leo jerked the wheel to the right, missing Ricardo’s truck by a few inches, then he turned to me. “Talk to me, morena.” Those eyes were mesmerizing, and his voice, with its alluring accent, wrapped around me, cradling me almost like his arms had done before. “I can see something is wrong. Please, morena, tell me.”

  No. Leo wasn’t like Eric and would never be like Eric, but I still couldn’t tell him anything.

  “I can’t—”

  It all happened too fast. The truck was shaken out of its path. A loud smashing and grinding sound rang in my ears. My body jarred to the side, and the back of my head bumped the door frame.

  Then it went quiet for about t
wenty seconds.

  “Meu Deus,” someone said.

  “Leo! Hannah!” someone else shouted.

  I heard metal scrapping against metal, and felt a hand on my cheek. “Hannah. Wake up.”

  I tried opening my eyes, but my head spun and my chest hurt.

  Leo’s voice came next. “Hannah, are you okay?”

  “We should take her to the hospital,” Bia suggested.

  I fought against the dizziness and fluttered my eyes open. “I’m fine.”

  Bia stood by the open door with Ricardo, while Guilherme and Pedro waited on the ground.

  Leo was perched over the seat on my side, his features etched with apprehension, but otherwise no injuries.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  A smile tugged the corner of his lips up. “I’m okay. How about you?”

  I rubbed the back of my head. I could feel a bump coming to life already, but other than that and the place where the seat belt had tightened against my chest, I was okay.

  “Me too.”

  “Are you sure?” Bia asked.

  I tried turning to her, but dizziness assaulted me. “I am.” I took a deep breath and sat straighter. “What happened?”

  “Sorry,” Leo muttered. “I was paying more attention to our conversation than to the game and didn’t see Gui coming at us from the side.”

  “I totally expected you to turn!” Guilherme shouted from the ground.

  “I know,” Leo shouted back. He took my hand in his. “I’m sorry.”

  On purpose, Bia cleared her throat before jumping down and pulling Ricardo with her.

  I would have flipped her off or rolled my eyes at her, but my head spun thinking about it. However, with Leo so close and staring at me like he needed to pull me onto his lap and take care of me, my head would’ve spun anyway.

  I averted my eyes. “How bad is the truck?”

  “I didn’t go out yet, but doesn’t look like anything major. It’s not easy to put a dent on a monster truck.”

  “That’s good, I guess.”

  He scooted back to his seat, his eyes clouded. “So the game is over. You can finally tell me why you came here.”