Just Be Her

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Just Be Her Page 12

by Kaydence Snow


  I rolled toward the window as the first violet light of dawn started to filter through. I hadn’t slept a wink, rolling around in expensive sheets and replaying the evening in my mind.

  If this was any other situation, I’d be waking up next to Oren, both of us naked, probably ready to go again. Or I never would’ve gone for him in the first place. But this was Alexandria’s life, and she had to step back into it in a few weeks. I couldn’t believe I’d complicated shit this badly for her. For me. I still had two weeks of navigating this clusterfuck, and I wasn’t entirely sure how I would pull it off.

  Because the other thing I couldn’t stop thinking about was how fucking soft rich boy’s lips had felt against mine, how confidently he’d held me, how damn good my hand had felt in his as we walked up the street. If I could just jump in the sack with him, these ridiculous thoughts would go away. I just needed to fuck him out of my system—just like I did with every other guy. But I couldn’t do that in this situation. I was pretty sure fiancé was catching feelings, and I couldn’t let Alex come back into a situation where sex was the status quo.

  With no better idea on how to handle the mess I’d made, I went with a classic Toni move—avoidance.

  Oren was nothing if not predictable. I’d figured out his OCD routine within a few days, so I knew I had a good thirty minutes before the old pipes creaked with his morning shower.

  I brushed my teeth, got dressed, and tiptoed downstairs. I grabbed an apple and a granola bar from the dark kitchen and let myself out the back door before anyone else was awake.

  The door to the stables was closed but not locked. It was dark in there, but light was beginning to stream in through the windows high up on the walls.

  “Hey, girl.” No one was around, but whispering still felt right as I moved toward Honeymustard’s stall.

  She popped her head over the gate and shook it from side to side, making her mane ruffle. As I gently patted her on the nose, she took my half-eaten apple right out of my hand.

  “Hey!” I chastised her with a chuckle but wished I had another apple to give her. I pulled out the granola bar, avoiding Honeymustard’s sneaky attempts to snatch that too, and started craving coffee.

  Being in the stables made me feel better. It smelled like straw and horseshit, but I didn’t mind. I just enjoyed the feeling of Honeymustard’s soft hair under my palm as the details of the space came into focus, more light filtering in with the new day. The other horses started to stir, snorting and shuffling about.

  The big door slid open to reveal a bright morning, sun shining on the grass beyond, and Jack strolled inside. “Morning! Ready for breakfast?”

  His voice was croaky, his hair mussed, his jeans sitting low on his hips. The horses all shifted, heads popping out over stall doors down the line.

  Jack spotted me halfway into the cavernous space. He paused and gave me a wide smile before coming to stand next to me. “And good morning to you. You’re up early.”

  “Morning.” I yawned.

  Jack chuckled, petting the other side of Honeymustard’s neck. “Have you been here all night? You know the horses are fine on their own.”

  I swatted his arm and smiled, grateful for the distraction. “Yes, smart ass, I know. I just couldn’t sleep, so I came down to hang out with Honeymustard. Being around animals calms me.”

  “Me too.” Jack’s hand paused mid-pat, his eyes fixed on mine.

  Chatter and boots crunching on straw announced the stablehands’ arrival. They greeted me politely and got on with their work. Jack set about his duties too, giving them directions as they fed the horses, mucked out the stalls, and brushed the beautiful animals down. Halfway through the morning routine, Jack came out of his office with a steaming mug in each hand. He wordlessly handed me one, and I moaned in thanks as I brought the coffee up to my mouth and settled in on a stepping stool, my back propped up against the wall.

  I watched them work and made small talk with Jack and the stablehands as I drank my coffee. As the others moved off to do other things, Jack led a saddled Honeymustard out of her stall.

  “I don’t know what you’re hiding from”—he gave me a knowing look, his voice conspiratorial and low—“but a ride always makes me feel better.”

  “I’d love to go for a ride.” I got to my feet and gave him a smile, choosing not to address his correct assumption that I was avoiding like a pro.

  He mounted Benson after helping me up onto Honeymustard, and we took off for the back end of the property.

  We visited the spot by the river again, but Jack didn’t strip down and jump into the water this time, and he didn’t mention it either, saving us both the embarrassment. Instead we let the horses drink and rest while we sat in the shade of a tree and chatted.

  Actually, Jack did most of the talking, with me humming nonspecific replies. When he finally led me back to the horses, I had no idea what we’d even discussed.

  I was so distracted by what had happened the night before that I couldn’t seem to think about anything else. If I wasn’t worrying about how colossally I’d fucked up by kissing Oren, I was obsessively thinking about kissing Oren.

  I put my foot into the stirrup, and Jack pushed me up with a firm grip on my hips. He held on to my ankle until I was steady in the saddle.

  “Good?” He looked up at me, shielding his eyes from the sun with his free hand.

  “All good.” I smiled down at him. “Thank you.”

  His hand on my ankle loosened, and he dragged his fingers up my shin. All distracting thoughts were pushed from my mind by that touch. My heart started to thud against my chest, and when thoughts of Oren’s firm grip around my middle as we’d kissed started to invade my mind, I made myself focus on the warmth of Jack’s hand through my jeans.

  His eyes bored into mine. When his hand reached my knee, he stepped away and mounted his horse with smooth, practiced movements, the corded muscles in his forearms bunching as he pulled himself up.

  I cleared my throat and shifted in the saddle.

  We rode back in silence.

  Every time my mind threw Oren at me, I focused on Jack.

  As images of Oren’s hazel eyes looking at me as he leaned in for a kiss popped up, I watched Jack roll his hips with the movement of his horse, his broad back swaying.

  As the distinct smell of Oren’s expensive cologne came to my mind, I breathed in the smell of horses and fresh air.

  As my chest swelled at how warm and safe my hand had felt nestled in Oren’s, I deliberately took note of how Jack’s jeans stretched over his thighs.

  We emerged from the trees and gave the horses free rein to meander over the grass back to the stables. Benson pulled up next to Honeymustard, the two animals walking almost in step.

  I glanced over to find Jack already watching me, his eyes shaded by his cowboy hat.

  A shout from one of the stablehands drew our attention back to what was in front of us.

  “We’re heading to lunch, boss.” One of the young guys waved and walked off, the other three following close behind.

  Jack waved them off and jumped off his horse.

  He led both Benson and Honeymustard into the stables. A mounting block was just a few feet away, but Jack took his hat off, hung it on a hook nearby, and reached up to help me.

  After a moment’s hesitation, I leaned forward to swing my leg over the horse’s back, then slid down, my front scraping against the saddle. Jack was right there to steady me, his strong hands on my waist guiding my body safely to the ground. He left one hand on my waist as I turned to him, the other going to loosely grip the saddle.

  He licked his lips, then looked up and fixed me with an intense stare. “Look, Alexandria, I don’t know what’s got you so spooked today, but I just want you to know if there’s anything I can do to take your mind off it or help in any way, I’m right here.”

  He punctuated his last statement with a firm squeeze at my waist, and I didn’t miss the way his eyes unashamedly drank in my body,
the hint of cleavage peeking out of my shirt, the curve of my hip. I was under no illusions when it came to how Jack wanted to take my mind off my troubles.

  A memory flashed in my mind for the millionth time—Oren swaying with me in a crowd of hot bodies, his arms holding me tightly, his lips so soft.

  Instinctually I leaned forward just a fraction, my lips parting as my heart battered against my ribcage.

  Jack mirrored my movement. His hand slid down to my hip as his chest brushed against mine. Reflexively, I raised my hand to grip his shoulder.

  My eyes focused, slamming me back into the present. It was hay and horses I was smelling, not the sweat and perfume of a party crowd. It was Jack’s blue eyes flicking down to my lips as he leaned in, not Oren’s hazel ones.

  For a split second, I thought about kissing him. His lips were so close already, his masculine, earthy smell assaulting my senses, his chest bumping against my tits with every increasingly labored breath he took.

  If I hooked up with Jack, maybe my Oren problem would go away. If I couldn’t fuck Oren to get Oren out of my system, maybe Jack would do. Maybe I just needed to get some. I’d found Jack more attractive than Oren when I first arrived anyway. Maybe my brain was just messing with me, making me lust after the one man who was even more off-limits than the first one I wanted to tackle into the hay.

  Jack’s lips were a hairbreadth away from mine. All I had to do was pucker and we’d be kissing.

  Footsteps on timber invaded the tense silence.

  My eyes widened and I pushed Jack away.

  “There you are, darling.” Oren’s voice was an octave higher than his usually calm, measured tone. “I’ve been looking for you all morning.”

  I stepped back, hoping my movements didn’t look as jerky and guilt-ridden as they felt. Jack’s movements were much slower and more controlled as he dropped his hand from my hip and turned his back to Oren, reaching for Honeymustard’s neck to give her a slow pat.

  I cleared my throat and turned to Oren. “I went for a ride. It was such a beautiful day.” I smiled, trying to keep the shakiness out of my voice. Had he seen? We’d been so close to kissing it would’ve looked as if we already were.

  “Ah!” Oren stopped halfway to us and propped his hands on his hips. He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes—his eyes that watched Jack’s back as the other man fiddled with the horse’s saddle and led her away. “Well, I’m glad I found you. There’s something I wanted to show you.”

  He held his hand out. The tight smile stayed plastered to his face, but his nostrils flared.

  He’d seen.

  My heart sank.

  I made my feet move forward, resisting the urge to hunch my shoulders and drop my head.

  When I placed my hand in his, all the memories I’d been trying to distract myself from flooded my mind. My hand felt right in his warm one, even as he gripped it tightly and pulled me along behind him, his pace steady, his shoulders tight under his tailored shirt.

  Once we were away from the stables, he picked up his pace, his grip on my hand tightening. I thought about pulling my hand out of his but found I didn’t want to.

  He wasn’t looking at me; he was storming away even as he dragged me along. I was dreading what he’d say, but I still didn’t want to be away from him.

  Instead of letting myself get dragged along like a wayward child, I took a few jogging steps until I caught up, then matched his pace. Now we looked like we were rushing toward the main house together, not like he was hauling me.

  He wrenched the back door open and hurried through the massive kitchen. We were in and out before any of the staff could so much as greet us.

  Down the hallway, and we were in his office. He closed the door firmly and let my hand go, keeping his back to me. His still-tense shoulders rose and fell with rapid breaths.

  I was breathing hard too, winded from our powerwalk.

  “Oren?” I reached for his shoulder, but he turned to face me before I could grip it, and I whipped my hand back.

  In the stables he’d radiated restraint, appeared and sounded calm to anyone not looking too closely. But behind the closed door, he let me see the rage in his wide eyes, the frustration in his thin lips.

  “What do you want from me?” he ground out.

  I blinked and took an involuntary step back. “What do you mean?” The question cut to the core of why I’d been obsessively avoiding the issue all day, but I wasn’t ready to face it.

  “We set up this deal, this marriage of convenience”—he lowered his voice to a near whisper, even behind the heavy timber door—“a situation that was mutually beneficial. You wanted to keep it professional, negotiate terms, and I agreed. I don’t need complications in my life any more than you. But then last night you kissed me.” He hissed the word out, as if he were accusing me of slapping him and not kissing him.

  I gritted my teeth. I felt like shit, but I still didn’t like being told off.

  “I thought maybe . . . last night . . . I hoped that . . .” He was losing his train of thought—a train of thought I didn’t want him to finish. It was too much, too soon, too real. “But then you shut down on me, and this morning you disappear. If it wasn’t for George telling me you were out for a ride, I would have been ready to report you as a missing person. Fine, I thought, maybe she just needs time to clear her head. It was a lot. I was confused too, so I get it. But then I find you in the arms of my stable master.” He took a deep breath, closing his eyes and pushing the air out of his nose before fixing me with a narrow-eyed stare. “So what fucking game are you playing, Alexandria? What do you want from me? Is it more money?”

  I reeled back, stunned, and let every ounce of the hurt and outrage I was feeling enter my features. That gave him pause. Some of the anger leaked out of his gaze, replaced by confusion.

  “How dare you?” I stood to my full height and rolled my shoulders back. “You think I’m some kind of money-grabbing whore?”

  Alexandria wasn’t like that. All she cared about was saving her family’s legacy, doing the right thing for all the people who relied on her. I felt protective of her and her motivations, but I’d be lying if I said Oren’s question didn’t hit a nerve with me too. I’d never had money, had to work hard for every single thing I had in life, but I earned it fair and square. On my own. My life may have been a boozy, sexed-up mess, but I’d never done anything dishonest to get ahead, and I didn’t rely on anyone to get what I needed. I certainly didn’t spread my legs for cash.

  Asshole.

  I stepped forward, regaining the footing I’d lost, and got in his face. “I don’t give a shit about your money,” I hissed. We were both keeping our voices down, having the quietest screaming match in the history of fights. “I don’t want a penny more than what’s needed to save my family’s legacy. I’ll live on goddamn spaghetti on toast if that’s what it takes to protect what’s mine.”

  “Then what the fuck was that about?” He pointed at the door.

  I threw my hands up and huffed. “I don’t know, OK? Like you said, this was supposed to be a business arrangement. Last night . . .” I had no idea what last night was. I’d spent so much time trying not to think about it that I had no words to articulate it.

  “You’re freaked out.” The anger and suspicion drained out of him. He sighed and dragged his hands down his face. When they came away, his features were set in a hard, emotionless mask. “I understand. This is a difficult situation and the lines were blurred. We both have a lot at stake. If you’d prefer to stick to the original arrangement, that’s fine. But I will not have you sleeping around with my staff. Keeping up appearances was part of our deal—this relationship has to look real to everyone else. I’ll not be made to look like a fool. Keep your hands off my stable master, and anyone else for that matter. That’s not negotiable.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “I wasn’t trying to make you look like a fool.”

  “Just trying to make me feel like one?”


  I sighed. “Look, I—”

  A knock sounded at the door. I had no idea what I wanted to say anyway. Apologize? Tell him to go fuck himself? Tell him I wasn’t even Alexandria? Who knows what would’ve come out of my mouth had his mother not let herself into the room.

  “Oh good, Alexandria, you’re here.” She beamed at me, then looked at her son. “I’m sorry, did I interrupt something?”

  “Not at all, Mother.” Oren leaned against the back of a wingback chair, his smile tight.

  Caroline turned to me and slightly raised her eyebrows. She was his mother—of course she saw through his shit.

  I uncrossed my arms and threaded my fingers loosely in front of myself, hoping the smile on my face was less strained than his. “We were just discussing the wedding.” It wasn’t a total lie.

  “Ah, yes.” She nodded and glanced toward the open door. “Well, if you’re not too busy with wedding planning, I was wondering if you’d join us for lunch tomorrow?”

  Oren flicked his eyes up to his mother, clearly not happy. “I’m sure Alexandria has a lot to do tomorrow. She’s a very busy woman.”

  “Nothing I can’t move around.” I gave him a wide smile. Who did he think he was to speak for me? Even if we were married, that shit wouldn’t fly. I contradicted him on principle alone. “I’d love to join you for lunch.”

  Oren gave me an incredulous, annoyed look, and Caroline beamed at me.

  “Excellent.” She took a step toward me, her perfume wafting in my direction as her delicate heels clicked on the timber. “If you don’t have a busy day, then you can join us for the morning also. Oren’s been working very hard and hasn’t had hardly any time to spend with you, but we’re going to the site of the new store to check on progress, and I’m sure he’d love to show you around.”

  Oren opened his mouth, no doubt to try and dissuade me from going, but I spoke up before he could. “I’d love to! Thank you for your kind invitation.” I gave Caroline’s hand a squeeze, and she responded with a genuinely warm smile.

  “We’ll leave around eight.” She waltzed back out, her skirt swishing around her knees, and left the door wide open.

 

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