Heartbreaker

by Kate Kisset

  She gave him a double take, stifling the urge to shout don’t come near me. “No, no, no. No, thank you.”

  “I’ll help you get the other one on.”

  Georgia sucked in a breath as Harlan kneeled in front of her anyway, sending a waft of manly mulberry smell to her nose.

  “Ahhh, you didn’t have to do that.” She exhaled, staring down at the top of his hat. When he didn’t budge, she decided to just get on with it and braced her hand on his broad shoulder. A mini fireworks explosion ignited in her belly, and she tried to sluff it off, but then her ears got hot.

  Harlan glanced up, ensnaring her in his stare. Was she imagining the sizzling current running between them? Was she having some sort of chemical reaction? A breakdown? Georgia bit her bottom lip. “Thanks.” She felt her heartbeat pulsing in her cheeks. “Like a cowgirl Cinderella,” she joked, shakily making light of it while her feet swam in the boots.

  “Guess that makes me a prince.” Harlan straightened, scooping up her shoes. “Now you’re ready. Left foot in the stirrup.”

  Still probably in a full blush, Georgia steeled herself, feeling the heat of Harlan towering over her from behind. Gritting her teeth, she reached up over Jess and grabbed the horn, hearing the leather squeak while lifting her foot, but couldn’t reach the stirrup.

  “Try again.”

  “I’ll get it. I will.” She straightened her shirt and took hold of the horn again. Just as she was lifting her foot, a powerful set of hands cupped her butt and pushed her up onto the saddle before she knew what was happening. “Hey!” she scolded from midair...until her butt touched ground on the seat. Happily, her jeans had enough stretch in them not to split.

  Georgia snuck a peek at Harlan. Was he going to make a snarky comment?

  Out of the corner of her eye she saw him wave her shoes while she avoided facing him. “I’ll put these in my saddlebag,” he said.

  “Yep,” she said, feeling proud of herself for making it up there, even if he did have to grab her ass.

  The saddle smelled fresh, crisp, and woodsy, all at the same time. Memories of her childhood washed over her.

  Finally, she’d get to meet Boone.

  “’Git Along, Little Dogies.’” She pointed, leading the fake Calvary in her brain and dying of embarrassment at the same time. “God, you just grabbed my butt.” Georgia laughed, shaking her head at the absurdity of the situation.

  Chapter Four

  THEY RODE THROUGH THE quiet, keeping the horses at a walk. Jess and Delilah’s hoofs traveled the soft, grassy ground in a muffled rhythm.

  Harlan breathed in deeply, relishing the sharp aroma the air takes on before it rains. He wouldn’t have put the reporter on a horse if he didn’t trust Jess as much as he did, but still he observed Georgia’s ability to ride closely.

  Careful not to let on, he watched her every move, waiting for her to make a sudden gesture, maybe pull out her phone and start snapping pictures for her Instagram account.

  Boone shouldn’t have been so reckless to invite her to the ranch, no matter how much of a big deal she was. He should’ve known from Harlan’s experience that reporters couldn’t be trusted, especially when his career was at stake. He couldn’t bear the thought of his brother’s dreams going up in smoke.

  After about twenty minutes they came to a stretch of tall, bright green grass dotted with clusters of yellow wildflowers. The arrowleaf balsamroot would blanket the hills through July.

  They had a good rain a couple of weeks ago, and from the looks of the dark clouds rolling in, it was already coming down near town.

  Georgia effortlessly maneuvered Jess around a small pine a few yards ahead with just the right touch on the reins. Harlan shifted in the saddle, hearing the comfortable squeak of the worn leather beneath him, observing as she brought Jess to a trot.

  “You’re a good rider,” Harlan called out, catching up to her. They were now traversing an open field side by side.

  “Thanks,” she said, expertly giving Jess a nudge, and they picked up the pace.

  Caught you. Harlan clenched his jaw tighter. “So you lied, then,” he growled. “You’ve ridden before. I knew you were a liar. It’s probably your standard MO.” Nothing would surprise him at this point.

  Georgia brought Jess to a stop and swung around to glare at him. “I am not a liar. I never said I don’t know how to ride. You really are a piece of work.” Her lips thinned as she turned to look straight ahead again. “And why I didn’t want to ride today is none of your damn business.”

  “Whatever you say. Whatever you say, sweetheart.” The sooner he could get her out of his brother’s life, the better. “Ready to see Boone’s place?” Harlan pointed to the rambling ranch house a few hundred yards away, shadowed by the gathering black clouds. His childhood home hadn’t been remodeled for as long as he could remember. “It’s right over there.”

  Georgia leaned over the horn and squinted. “Just looking at the house doesn’t help me much. I’m late for my appointment with Boone.” She adjusted her seat, probably about to give Jess the signal to hightail it over there.

  “About that.” Harlan rubbed his chin.

  “What?” She snapped her head around to nail him with a look while giving an irritable tug on the reins. “What exactly?”

  Oh, she was going to love this. “Boone isn’t there.”

  Anger detonated in her eyes. “What the hell?”

  “His place is gutted. He’s staying with me while his house is being remodeled.”

  Georgia glared, burning a hole through him. “I cannot believe you did this!” She abruptly pulled back on the reins, and Jess’s muzzle tightened, her ears flicking back and forth.

  His horse always got a little excited when the weather changed, and Georgia’s temperament wasn’t helping. Jess started pawing at the ground.

  “Easy now,” Harlan soothed, keeping his voice calm, hoping to relax the horse. “Jess is picking up on what you’re feeling, and she’s kind of touchy.”

  “Touchy?” Georgia turned Jess in a full circle, so she could face him head-on. Jess started prancing. “I’ll show you touchy. You brought me all the way out here on a wild goose chase, didn’t you?”

  “Not exactly, and settle down, you’re scaring her.” Georgia’s reaction was worse than he expected. Sure, she’d ridden before, but Harlan didn’t know if she’d be able to control Jess at anything faster than a trot, and he didn’t want to imagine what would happen if Jess tried to buck her off.

  “You’re the liar, Harlan Beckett. You!”

  “Technically I said I would bring you to Boone’s house, which I clearly just have. I never said Boone would be there.”

  “You’re an asshole. You know that?” Georgia jerked Jess’s reins, giving her a firm kick with her heels.

  The horse bolted.

  Christ. Harlan swung Delilah around, watching Georgia and Jess tear over the terrain as fast as a spooked mountain lion.

  “Shit.” Harlan grabbed the reins. “Yaw! Let’s go!”

  They raced after her, but lost Georgia around a bend. In another second, she was back in sight. She was still riding so fast he couldn’t catch up to her, but Harlan managed to keep her in sight, still urging Delilah to hurry.

  Holding the reins like a natural, her hair flying in the wind, Georgia seemed to have zero hesitation about galloping at full throttle.

  Damn right, she’d ridden before. Harlan’s breath caught in his throat. What a sight.

  Chapter Five

  THUBALUP, THUBALUP, thubalup, Jess’s powerful hooves pounded the soft ground in a steady beat, syncing with her labored breaths. But Georgia could tell by Jess’s speed and sounds, by the confidence emanating from her, that the horse loved every second of being allowed to flat-out run as fast as she wanted to.

  Georgia’s heart raced while she held the reins over the saddle horn with her left hand and clutched the remaining ends with her right, against her thigh. Lifting slightly off the saddle’s smooth, worn
seat, she distributed her weight evenly, balancing in the stirrups in the ginormous boots.

  She gripped Jess with her thighs, guiding her away from a crop of shiny boulders scattered across the uneven ground up ahead. “That’s it...good girl,” she praised her new friend, feeling like a seventh-grader again. Wild and free.

  As pissed off as she was with Harlan, it was incredible to feel so alive. How long had it been since she used every ounce of her physicality and pushed herself to full capacity? As the misty wind slapped her cheeks and trees flipped by her like pages in a book, Harlan’s ranch came into view.

  She gradually slowed Jess down to a trot, and in moments they were walking on the trail.

  When they arrived at the pasture surrounding the farmhouse, damp, sweet grass and fresh earth smells drifted up, blending with the clean-leather smell of the reins and saddle. “That was fun.” She leaned over Jess’s graceful neck, getting closer to her perked-up ears. “Wasn’t it, girl?”

  Boone must’ve heard her coming, because he turned around on the driveway and waved.

  Her heart lightened. Thank God he’s here. She was afraid Boone would’ve already come, seen she wasn’t there, and gone.

  Georgia recognized him from all the photos plastered in the gossip rags, but damn. The tall, blacked-haired man was even more handsome than she anticipated. Women were going to eat her article up. Georgia waved back and sped up to meet him.

  “I’m so sorry I’m late. My flight got delayed, and I was the last car they let through before they closed the road.” Boone opened the gate bordering the pasture and the driveway.

  “No problem.” Jess’s hooves clop, clop, clopped against the flagstone.

  Boone angled his body around her and craned his neck to look out toward the pasture she just came from. “You didn’t go riding alone, did you? Where’s my brother?”

  “Ah...” Georgia checked the field over her shoulder. Should she tell him she left his idiot brother in the dust? “Not sure. I guess he wanted to take his time.”

  Okay, it was a half lie. But what good would it do to tell Boone about their fight? Boone probably already knew he was related to an ass.

  “Harlan’s probably out picking flowers somewhere.” She snickered at the visual of macho man skipping among daisies.

  “Harlan?” Boone narrowed his eyes at her.

  She shrugged. “You got me. He was right behind me for most of the way, but I don’t know where he is now.” Harlan. What a tool.

  Georgia quickly dismounted and noticed the mud on Boone’s truck covered the tires and went all the way up to the doors. She made a memo that all the Beckett brothers probably leaned on the far side of crazy.

  “Hey, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” Georgia plastered a professional smile on her face. Holding onto Jess’s reins, she extended her hand to Boone.

  “Pleasure’s all mine.” Boone smiled. “After all those phone calls and emails, we finally got together.”

  Georgia nodded, and that’s when she noticed the level of Boone’s gorgeousness. She roamed her eyes up to his black eyebrows, and down his straight nose to his full lips. Boone’s jaw was perfection, with just the right amount of black stubble. If he’d been her type, she’d have had a hard time peeling her gaze away from him.

  “Don’t tell her a goddamn thing!” Harlan’s yell came from behind. They both turned to see Harlan barreling up to the gate. He yanked on the reins, bringing Delilah to a hard stop. Then quickly dug a boot in the stirrup, swung the other leg over the horse, and hopped off.

  “Just don’t,” he barked, practically smoking from his ears, storming toward them, leading Delilah to the driveway.

  Oh, no. A million thoughts, ranging from slapping him to apologizing, clattered through her brain.

  “What’s going on?” Boone stiffened, turning to Harlan and then to Georgia.

  “Her.” Harlan pointed. “She’s a bald-faced liar,” he hissed, leveling a nasty glare at her to back it up.

  “I-I-I am not!” She felt a scalding blush creep up from her chest to her neck, repeating calmly this time. “I’m not a liar. It’s a big misunderstanding,” she pleaded with Boone. “I just didn’t feel like riding today, and Harlan took it to mean I’ve never ridden, but I didn’t say that.” Her stomach roiled. Several cold raindrops sprinkled on her cheeks.

  “Oh, yeah, you should have seen her tearing across the fields at a hundred and eighty. Never ridden, my ass.” He sniffed, eyeing Boone. “Don’t worry, I never gave her your physical address. She only saw your house from the back.”

  “What the hell happened out there?!” Boone folded his arms, his friendly demeanor gone.

  “Well,” Georgia’s chin started to tremble. How would she explain this? “Harlan told me there aren’t any roads to your house.” Boone’s heavy lashes shot up. “And he wouldn’t take me to see you unless it was on horseback.”

  “Really. Is that so?” Boone swung around to Harlan.

  “And then, after we rode all the way to your house, he told me he forgot to mention that you weren’t there.” The heat traveled to her cheeks. Georgia would bet fifty bucks her face was turning scarlet. Her thighs throbbed and her butt ached from the ride. She glanced at her car and seriously considered bailing.

  “Let me get this straight. Harlan forced you to ride?” Boone swiveled to his brother in a standoff. Harlan folded his arms.

  She could clearly make out their difference in height while they stood so close together, and guessed Boone was around six-one, compared to Harlan’s six-five. She sure didn’t want to see them fight, and Boone appeared exceptionally pissed.

  “Someone who went out of her way”—Boone raised his voice—“and out of her comfort zone, I might add, to drive all the way out here to do a story about me. And you did that to her?”

  “I was vetting her. Just like you asked.” Harlan didn’t seem the least bit riled over Boone’s reaction.

  “You needed to vet me?” Now Georgia folded her arms.

  Harlan snarled. “The vetting’s not over, sweetheart.”

  “Harlan’s had a tough time with the press,” Boone’s voice softened. “I can’t afford to let the same thing happen to me.”

  “And it will. If you spill your guts to her, it will.” Harlan began to pace. “Just you wait, my brother.”

  You have a hell of a nerve, Harlan Beckett. “You’re being ridiculous.” Digging in, Georgia hurled the words at Harlan like rocks.

  If nothing else, Georgia was honorable. And when it came to her career, she didn’t like to brag, but some considered her to be the Oprah of the music journalism world. Despite what her new boss said about her stories not having heart, her subjects always opened up and revealed their true selves to her, because she treated them with the utmost respect. Her friends thought she had a gift, but Georgia worked harder than anyone else. That was her gift. “Why don’t you just Google me?”

  Harlan sneered. “Who says I won’t?”

  Boone raised his hands pacifically, shoulder-high, palms out. “Okay, I think I’ve got the picture,” he said, glancing at Harlan. “Look,” he said sympathetically, “can we all possibly just forget what happened today and start fresh? Georgia, are you good with that?”

  Thank you. Thank you. “Yes. I’d love to get started.” She stole a look at Harlan, who stared back, wide-eyed with feigned innocence.

  “Let me show you inside, and we’ll get settled,” Boone offered, cupping her elbow to usher her to the porch. She caught him giving Harlan the eye over his shoulder. “You’ve had quite the day.”

  “Hey, don’t mind me. I’ll just put the horses away.” Harlan warned. “Be careful, Boone.”

  Chapter Six

  “ARE YOU SURE I CAN’T find you a sweatshirt or something?” Boone pointed to her blouse. His eyes startled her. They were almost the same shade of deep blue with light sky rims as Harlan’s. Georgia shifted on the chair, banishing the thought, not about to let Harlan invade her brain. What did she ha
ve to do to get away from the guy?

  “Hmm?” Georgia twisted to look, chin down against her chest, trying to figure out the issue. “Oh. Yeah, I guess it is a little damp.” She tugged at the silky fabric. “A little rain won’t hurt me. It’ll dry any minute.” Now that he mentioned it, she was a little chilly.

  Boone tipped his head. “Are you sure?”

  “Positive.” She wasn’t about to interrupt the interview when they were finally getting down to business.

  Without a hat, and wearing jeans, boots, and a white casual button-down shirt, Boone rested his arm on the buttery leather sofa’s back pillow.

  Soothed by the rain pattering outside the porch-facing windows and the fireplace crackling on the opposite side of the room, Georgia began to relax.

  Most of Boone’s answers were relatively par for the course. Harlan and Boone got their eye color from their mom, and their voices from their father, a singer who passed away a few years ago. Boone didn’t know who his oldest brother Colt took after. None of them did, apparently, but they were all thrilled to have Colt, a genius with numbers, look after their investments.

  One thing was clear. The brothers were a tight-knit family who looked out for each other. What would it be like to not have to fight every battle life threw at you alone?

  Boone had known most of his band members since college. He’d always been interested in music and picked up his older brother Harlan’s guitar at age five. Boone was twenty-six now, which made Harlan twenty-eight. The more Boone talked, the more Georgia couldn’t get around the dreaded realization that she couldn’t adequately tell Boone’s story without also writing about Harlan.

  An integral part of Boone’s success, Harlan was hands-on, helping Boone produce his first album by bypassing the labels and usual channels and launching it strictly on social media. Boone already had over a million followers on his YouTube channel, and a few million more on Spotify.

  “It’s been well over two hours.” Harlan interrupted, barging into the room carrying a beer. “In case you lost track of time.” He plunked down in the chair to her right, effectively positioning himself between her and Boone.