Making Her Mark

by Renée Dahlia

  ‘He wouldn’t dare.’ Rachel winked at him, sending a fresh wave of heat across his torso. Hell. The teasing was almost worse when they weren’t alone. He brushed his hand through his hair.

  ‘Good. I like her, Jacob. You keep your distance.’ Allira smiled a little. Oh, maybe she was teasing him, and it wasn’t about trust at all. Had he only assumed that because Allira’s opinion mattered to him?

  Rachel’s own grin spread, her eyes twinkling with delight. Allira walked past them to the kitchen, apparently oblivious to the rapid glances between him and Rachel. He checked Allira was occupied in the kitchen, before he stalked the couple of strides over to Rachel and whispered in her ear.

  ‘You’ll keep.’

  Her cheeks flushed, highlighting the freckles scattered on her nose, and he wanted to kiss each one. Allira called from the kitchen, ‘What did you bring for dinner?’

  He leaped away from Rachel—damn that guilt—and called out to Allira, ‘Pad Thai, garlic prawns with noodles, Nasi Goreng, and Singapore noodles with beef and cashews.’

  ‘I hope you are hungry. Rachel, can you eat any of that?’ Allira asked.

  ‘Sure.’ Rachel’s voice came from very close behind him, and he clenched his teeth when she traced her finger up his spine, holding it between his shoulder blades where Allira couldn’t see. She pressed her fingers into the muscles either side of his spine, hard enough to make him want to lean back against her.

  ‘I eat everything, just in small volumes.’ Her voice vibrated against his back, and it took all his control not to twist around to see just how close she was. Jacob stepped away from her before she could taunt him more. Bloody hell, Rachel flitted between hot and cold. Did she want him or not? Right on the back of Allira’s assumptions about him too.

  ‘I’ll do it, Allira,’ he said.

  Allira nodded, ‘Thanks. Do you two mind if I have a quick shower before we eat?’

  ‘It’s cool.’ They spoke in unison, and Allira’s gaze flicked between them both.

  ‘Are you sure nothing is going on here?’

  Jacob bit his tongue and tried not to adjust his jeans. He wanted to ask Rachel the same question. She’d said she didn’t want a relationship with him, yet her actions told a different story..

  ‘Nothing is going on,’ Rachel said. Was that a shake he could hear in her voice? What kind of game was she playing with him?

  Allira laughed. ‘He probably deserves to be toyed with, given the way he’s played with other women. I bet he’s finally met his match in you, Rachel.’

  ‘That’s not at all what I meant.’ Rachel blushed, bright red, as she spoke quickly, scrambling her words. He breathed in embracing the smug warmth her protest sent through his chest.

  ‘Well, could you two be civil to each other for ten minutes while I have a quick shower and wash away my day?’ Allira gave them both a pointed look, then strode up the stairs.

  ‘Civil?’ Rachel asked.

  ‘Truce?’ Jacob had spoken at the same time. They both grinned, and Rachel bit her bottom lip.

  ‘Yeah, truce. I don’t know what she thinks, but I don’t want a relationship right now.’

  ‘Is that why you are so hot and cold?’ Jacob asked, and even as the words came out, he knew he’d messed up their truce only seconds after agreeing on it.

  She put her hands on her hips, ‘Trust a man to interpret it that way. Yes, you get a hot response from my body, but it doesn’t mean jackshit. My head knows what I want.’

  ‘Thus the cold part—whenever you think too hard …’

  Her eyebrows damned near hit her hair, they raised up so high, ‘Thinking is good. It’ll save me from a decision I’ll regret. No relationships,’ she repeated, more firmly this time. Jacob ignored the twinge when she said she’d regret being with him, and instead wanted to point out that she touched him first.

  ‘How about later? Or maybe some non-relationship sex instead? You want it. Don’t deny that.’

  Rachel rolled her eyes at him, and his chest expanded with ridiculous hope, or maybe that was just his cock.

  ‘I might—’ She coughed and shook her head quickly as if to get rid of whatever she almost blurted. ‘No, how about never? Allira’s right, you don’t want a relationship anyway. You just want to fuck me for a while,’ Rachel said. Jacob stepped forward, deliberately standing close to her.

  ‘You would enjoy it.’ He enjoyed the mixed emotions flashing over her face as she wrestled with wanting to say yes, and needing to say no. It probably made him a dickhead to enjoy her conflict.

  She shoved him on the chest, her smile giving away her real thoughts, ‘Arrogant, much?’

  ‘It’s not arrogance when it’s the truth.’

  ‘Oh Christ on the fucking starship, cut the ego trip.’

  He roared with laughter, ‘You can try to cut me down to your size, but it won’t work.’

  ‘Pound for pound, I’m stronger and faster than you.’ Rachel challenged him immediately without moving away from him. It would be so easy to wrap his arms around her and lift her up for another crushing kiss.

  ‘Is that a challenge?’

  She tilted her head. ‘Yeah. If you can beat me, then you can kiss me.’

  ‘I’ve already kissed you, and you liked it. You’ll have to offer more than that … unless you don’t think you’ll win.’

  ‘I’ll win.’

  Jacob leaned closer and whispered in her ear, ‘Or you’ll lose and then we’ll both win.’

  ‘Says you. Get your team trainer to set something up, quietly, on Sunday.’

  ‘Sunday.’

  ‘Yeah, in the morning, say about ten. It’s a quiet day for trackwork, and I’ll have a couple of hours before I have to drive to the races for the afternoon.’

  ‘A couple of hours? Are you working on Sunday?’

  Rachel’s shoulder heaved as she breathed in. ‘I work every day. I’m self-employed and don’t get paid unless I work.’

  ‘That sucks. What about holidays?’

  ‘Racing is an entertainment industry. We work when everyone else is on holiday. Besides, it’s not that bad. Riding keeps me race fit, and things are quieter in the winter.’ Rachel didn’t seem bothered by her crazy workload.

  ‘How much work do you do exactly?’

  She grinned, ‘Why? Are you worried that I’m fitter, and I’ll beat you?’

  ‘No.’ He scoffed, ‘Of course not. Even with a dodgy knee, I’ll still beat you. I’m curious, that’s all.’

  She cracked her neck and walked away from him. ‘I ride trackwork in the mornings, from about five am through to eight, then I eat breakfast, and drive to the races. Usually the races go from lunchtime until the early evening, but sometimes if there are night races on at the Valley, I’ll ride at the country day meeting, then come to the city for a couple of rides at night. Those days can be quite long.’

  He nodded. Her working hours seemed crazy to him.

  She sighed, and flung her hands up in the air, ‘You see, I don’t have time for a relationship, anyway.’

  ‘You start at five?’ He ignored her comment about a relationship, not wanting to rehash the same old argument again.

  ‘Mate, that’s not early. The strappers, ground staff, begin at three am, and some of the track riders start early to do the first couple of sets of horses, but I’ve found I can’t sustain that and ride at my best during the day. Not with all the driving to different country meetings as well.’

  ‘Understandable.’ He blew out a loud breath, ‘Mate, three am is nuts. Why?’

  ‘The theory is that it’s cooler then, so the horses cope with exercise better, since they don’t heat up too much. It’s funny because racehorses are evolved from desert horses, and they handle a dry heat really well. I’m not a trainer, but if Shannon does it because it’s good for his horses, then I’m not going to argue with him. It’s rough on the staff though, especially when they have to go to a night meeting as well.’

  ‘Are you saying th
e horses’ needs come before the people?’

  Rachel grinned and threw her hands up in front of her, ‘Of course I’m saying that. Everything in racing is done to keep the horses healthy and happy. An injured or unhappy horse isn’t going to try or run well. They live a five-star lifestyle with staff to tend their every need. They are athletes—you must get that.’

  ‘Of course, it makes sense. We spend a crazy amount of time on ensuring everyone in the team is at their peak, physically and mentally.’

  ‘Yeah, horses are athletes, the same as human athletes. They have the same needs, it’s just complicated because they can’t talk, but once you know them well enough, you know when they are right, and when they need something.’

  ‘Are you two still arguing?’ Allira came down the stairs, her hair all wet, with a big smile on her face.

  Rachel laughed. ‘Good timing, Allira. Jacob was about to lecture me for working too hard.’

  ‘Spare me from feisty sisters and their housemates who work crazy hours to prove themselves.’ He grinned.

  Allira shoved him on the shoulder. ‘One day you’ll understand.’

  ‘Yeah, one day, when I’m not swanning about living a life of luxury, being a professional athlete.’

  Allira grinned, ‘Precisely.’

  ‘I was kidding. I might not get up at five am to go to work, but I’d argue I work as hard as either of you.’

  ‘I wouldn’t start that argument if I was you,’ Rachel butted into the conversation. ‘Both of us are only entertainers, using our bodies for people to cheer at. Your sister saves lives, that matters more.’

  ‘Stop it, you two. It’s not a competition.’ Allira’s cheeks flushed as she rolled her eyes. ‘Let’s eat.’

  Jacob’s stomach rumbled at the mention of food. He’d been having so much fun teasing Rachel, he’d forgotten about the dinner he’d brought.

  Jacob dished out the different meals onto plates and carried them to the table, while Rachel and Allira set out plates and cutlery. Rachel picked at the food, taking only tiny portions of a few types, although with plenty of vegetables.

  ‘Is that all you are going to eat?’ Jacob asked, as he piled up his plate.

  ‘This is normal, besides, I have a ride booked for Flemington on Saturday at 51.’

  ‘Fifty-one?’

  Allira grinned, ‘She means kilograms. Don’t stress, Jacob, I’ve learned that it’s cheap to feed a jockey.’

  ‘Yeah, don’t worry about it. Plus, I’m short, even for a jockey, so I can eat far more than some of my colleagues.’

  ‘Seriously?’

  ‘It’s not a life that many people can deal with, but if I pay attention to my intake, and keep up my output, then I won’t have to waste for race day. And that’s when jockeys get into real strife.’

  ‘Waste?’ Allira spoke at the same time as he did.

  ‘It’s a bit old fashioned, really. Lots of jockeys still do it, because it’s a quick way to lose weight temporarily, but it’s not good for you in the long term. It’s better to maintain a stable weight.’

  ‘But?’

  ‘You want the gruesome details?’

  ‘Yes.’ Jacob saw Allira shake her head as he responded. He wanted to know what on earth Rachel was talking about. He’d assumed she was an athlete, yet this tiny eating didn’t align with his life.

  ‘The fastest way to lose weight is dehydration,’ Rachel said. ‘Put on a sweat suit, go running, or mow the lawn. Some jockeys drive to the races with the heater turned up high in their car, while wearing thermals, and three jumpers. You’ll lose a couple of kilograms that way, and you can drink water after the races.’

  ‘That’s not as bad as I was imagining.’

  ‘Yeah, it’s fine if you don’t do it often—I mean, I’d do it if I got a ride of a three year-old in the Cox Plate, because it’d be worth the stress.’

  ‘I won’t pretend to know what that means.’

  Rachel chuckled, ‘Yeah, it’s unlikely anyway. Although I am a natural lightweight, so I guess there is a chance.’

  ‘But what if that doesn’t work?’ Allira said.

  ‘Some jockeys go to extreme lengths to get down to race weight, especially the taller ones, stuff like starving themselves, diuretics, laxatives …’

  ‘Wow—that’s terrible for your body.’

  ‘Yeah, and it’s also not that safe. I hate riding alongside someone who has been wasting lots, because they aren’t totally with it, you know. Their reflexes are too slow, and their decision making isn’t great. It’s an accident waiting to happen.’

  ‘Can anything be done about it?’

  Rachel waggled her head side to side, ‘We are all drug tested, so the jockeys who take diuretics, and shit like methamphetamines get caught and can’t ride. Racing is getting better at looking after the jockeys too.’ She paused, then held up her hand as Jacob started to ask a question, ‘And before you say anything, yes, the horses are held in higher esteem and better looked after than the jockeys.’

  ‘I wasn’t going to ask that, we’ve already discussed that topic and I believe you. I was going to ask why you do it.’

  ‘What? Race ride?’

  ‘Yeah. It seems to affect your whole life, even restricting the joy of eating—’

  ‘The joy of eating? I enjoy eating. Just because I eat a lower volume than other people doesn’t mean I forgo taste. It’s just that I have to make every mouthful count.’

  Jacob nodded, and from the corner of his eye, he caught Allira smirking.

  ‘You know me well enough that I wouldn’t condone an unhealthy diet in my house,’ Allira said.

  Rachel smirked, lifting her eyebrows, ‘See, told ya so. Volume has nothing to do with taste. My body is healthy, perfectly fit for its job.’

  He couldn’t help his gaze drift over her body, lingering on her breasts, a perfect handful size, easily discernible thanks to the tight singlet top she wore. He could even trace the lines of her bra. A thump on his arm made him blink.

  ‘Hey, stop ogling my housemate,’ Allira said.

  He held up his hands in protest, ‘I’m—’

  ‘—totally checking me out.’ Rachel laughed, warm and rich, and the sound tugged at him, sending a wave of heat through his stomach and lower. He waggled his head side to side.

  ‘Leave her alone,’ Allira said.

  ‘Nah, it’s alright, Allira. He’s mostly harmless.’

  He raised one eyebrow, ‘Mostly?’

  ‘Yeah, you know it.’

  Allira’s head twisted back and forth between them, ‘What is going on?’ Every word had had a little pause between them.

  ‘Nothing,’ he said.

  Rachel roared with laughter, ‘And that doesn’t sound guilty at all.’ She blew a hard breath out of the corner of her mouth, and shrugged, ‘Don’t worry, Allira. It’s mostly nothing. Nothing I can’t handle, that is.’

  Did he imagine her gaze dropping to his groin for a micro second? No, surely not. Heat rushed up his spine and he swallowed away the sudden dryness in his mouth. She could handle him anytime she wanted. He leaned forward and picked up his plate, placing it on his lap and started to eat.

  ‘Ok. I could have sworn you two were flirting, but if it’s nothing …’

  ‘I’m helping him with a problem, that’s all.’

  ‘Oh, the betting thing? I thought you already knew it wasn’t kosher.’

  Jacob stuffed food in his mouth so he didn’t have to respond.

  ‘No, we’ve only just unveiled the beginning of this mystery,’ Rachel said. A pop tune jangled from the kitchen, and Rachel leaped to her feet. ‘Oh, sorry, that’s my phone.’ She bounced, Jacob couldn’t think of a better way to describe the way she moved, towards the kitchen and answered. He tried not to listen, but when Rachel squealed, he abandoned his quest to ignore her, and just stared as a grin so big and wide threatened to split her face open.

  ‘Holy shit. Are you serious?’ she asked the caller. Her whole body jig
gled and bounced as she started dancing in the kitchen. ‘Yeah, man. Thank you so much for that … Oh, really? Well, that’s awesome … I’ll do my absolute best … Yeah, yeah, I know. I’ll get right on it … Fuck, yeah, let’s beat them … Okay, see you Saturday.’ She hung up and squealed again. ‘Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, you won’t believe this. Holy fucking shitballs of awesome.’

  ‘What? What’s happened?’

  ‘Matthew got me the ride of Darnation in the Makybe Diva Stakes. I can’t believe it.’ Rachel shook out her hands and jumped up and down.

  ‘I take it that’s important?’ Allira asked.

  ‘Fuck yes. A Group One worth three quarters of a million, and on the favourite too. Oh man, this is the greatest opportunity.’

  Allira stood up and hugged Rachel. Damn it, he had it bad with a capital B for Rachel if seeing her so enthusiastic made him happy. He rubbed his forehead.

  ‘Thanks. I know you don’t really understand …’

  ‘No, but it’s great to see you so happy,’ Allira said, stepped back with her hands still resting on Rachel’s shoulders. Rachel nodded, still smiling like the Cheshire Cat.

  ‘I’d better text Serena and tell her.’ She grabbed her phone and her thumbs flew over the screen, giving Jacob a breather to get his physical response to her excitement under control. Think about doing burpees or thigh reps, or horrible old Mr Jackson at high school. There, that always worked. He picked up his plate again and continued eating.

  ‘Hey, you guys should come to the races and watch on Saturday. I mean, I’ll be working, so I can’t show you around, but if you get a bunch of public tickets, I can meet you after the races and catch up. Plus, you get to watch me ride.’ Rachel waved her arms around, moving rapidly as though she couldn’t contain the energy flowing in her body.

  ‘Sounds like a plan. Our semi-final is on Friday night, and as The Palace says, if we win we’ll be celebrating on Saturday and if we lose, we’ll need to commiserate.’

  ‘You’ll win. I’ll win. We’ll all win.’ Rachel punched the air, and he laughed. Her enthusiasm was catching.