Backstretch Baby (15 page)

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Authors: Bev Pettersen

BOOK: Backstretch Baby
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A door slammed, and voices drifted from the front of the restaurant. A man guffawed.

Rick immediately twisted, his wide shoulders sheltering her from curious stares. His hand grazed the underside of her breast, making her nipple tighten, and she ached with longing. There was no denying their chemistry.

But she shared a cramped room with Ashley, and the thought of grabbing a sexual tryst in a darkened stall didn’t feel right. And there wasn’t enough time to check into a motel, even if they could afford to splurge. Miguel was only on duty until eight. It was seven o’clock now, already dark, and the horses couldn’t be safely left alone. Maybe they could figure out something for later in the week. Perhaps another bike ride.

Maybe next time he’d bring a blanket.

She lowered her hands from his neck, taking a moment to steady her breathing. “Thank you,” she said. “For this day. It’s been awhile since I wasn’t worrying about something. About everyone,” she added, thinking of Joey.

“Me too,” he said.

She doubted that was true. He was too easygoing to obsess about much. In fact, it was his very levelness that kept her grounded. He’d never complained once about sleeping with the horses. And he was doing work way outside his job description. Heck, he’d rarely let her out of his sight. He probably needed some down time.

“If we hurry,” she said, “we can get back before eight. I can watch the barn until midnight and you can grab a shower at Miguel’s dorm. It’s your turn for a break.”

He picked up her helmet and buckled it beneath her chin, his intent gaze never leaving her face. “A break isn’t really what I’m wanting now,” he said.

“But I don’t think tonight will work. We don’t have a place, a proper place—”

He pressed a finger over her mouth. “Stop worrying so much,” he said.

And so she did.

She climbed onto the bike, wrapped her arms around his lean hips and simply savored their closeness. His body was familiar now. And totally safe. She knew every inch of his broad back, the slope of his shoulders, and the deft way he avoided potholes, taking care of his motorcycle as thoroughly as he took care of her.

Riding at night was just as enjoyable as the day, maybe more so since there was an added risk. She couldn’t see the curves of the road until the bike abruptly cornered. And the rushing roadside was full of mystery. She found herself pretending they were racing from danger, just like she sometimes imagined when she was galloping a horse. And that gave her more reason to press closer, to clutch him even tighter.

But the intriguing roads turned to wider highways, crammed with creeping traffic, stinky exhaust and blaring car horns. And all too soon the ride came to an end.

The entrance to the track was empty of traffic, except for a lone Jeep parked by the security building. They slowed at the barrier. She peered into the illuminated room, searching for Ashley’s blond hair, hoping she might be having coffee with the guards so that their dorm room would be empty.

But only Liam was inside, his thick shoulders unmistakable.

He slid open the glass window, his gaze skipping from Rick to Eve. Then he nodded and raised the bar without even requesting a show of credentials.

She blinked in amazement, then waved her thanks. Obviously it helped that Ashley was friends with the guards.

The motorcycle rumbled along the line of shedrows. Horses stared over their stall doors, watching their passage with complacent eyes. Workers often relied on bicycles for transportation, but clearly the animals were accustomed to a variety of traffic noises.

They wheeled past the worker dorms where boots dried on windowsills and rusty bikes rested against clapboard walls. The smell of cilantro and chili peppers wafted in the breeze, mingling with the sound of mariachi music.

The light was on in Ashley’s room. She must be home, sprawled on the narrow bunk bed, and Eve fought a rush of disappointment. She’d known this night would end. But she’d harbored a faint hope it might be prolonged.

However, Rick didn’t glance sideways at the dorms. Didn’t ask which door was hers or whether she shared a room or if there was any way to find some privacy. Which was just as well.

The helmet had left her hair plastered to her head, and she was probably covered with grit. She definitely had sand between her teeth. In fact, it felt like she’d been race riding. Rick had made her feel so desirable she’d forgotten how she must look. And she probably smelled earthy too.

She loosened her hold and sat a little straighter. He immediately swerved to the right, bouncing the bike over a shallow rut. She gave his helmet a warning rap but looped her arms back around his waist. She felt him chuckle.

They circled the hammock and picnic tables with her still gripping his waist. She was certain he took the darkest and bumpiest route possible, or maybe he was checking the grounds for trespassers. With Rick, she was never sure of his motives.

Miguel shuffled from the barn, nodding a greeting. The light from the doorway outlined his stooped shoulders, but he seemed relaxed. Of course, his workload was much lighter now and it helped that Rick spoke fluent Spanish. Miguel wasn’t even reserved with Rick, not like he was with most newcomers.

Rick cut the engine.

“Everything’s quiet, boss,” Miguel said to Eve. “Legs all good. Horses ate up.”

“Great,” she said. “Thanks for watching the barn.” She pulled out the tobacco she’d bought and slipped it into his gnarly hand.

Miguel gave a rare smile.
“Gracias.”
He turned to Rick, still smiling.

“Any problem with the trailer?” Rick asked.

Miguel shook his head. “Security came but I gave them the phone number. And it’s all hooked up. There was no trouble.”

The two men kept talking while Eve fumbled with her helmet. She turned and pulled it off, then stiffened, startled by the huge white shape barely distinguishable in the gloom.

A horse trailer? But all trailers had to be parked in the common area. And this didn’t look like horse transport. The windows were darkened glass, and human-sized steps led to a screen door.

“I need to watch the entire area,” Rick said from behind her, his voice cautious. “An RV will help keep things safe, so you don’t have to make accusations to your boss. Like we discussed.”

She gripped her helmet. She didn’t remember discussing any RV, only that it was important to keep Victoria at bay, without alienating Jackson. But a trailer would definitely help control trespassers. The tinted windows made it hard to see if a watchman was inside. Still, it must be against the rules. People couldn’t just park trailers wherever they wished.

She stepped closer, admiring the gleaming structure. It was the biggest RV she’d ever seen and she definitely wanted to look inside, before security roared up and insisted it be moved.

“We have special permission,” Rick went on. “The RV can stay until the end of the meet.”

She made a sound deep in her throat, a ragged sigh of approval and distress. Scott had powerful allies throughout California and his investigative firm was well respected. He’d probably only needed to make a single phone call to the track owner, the same way he’d expedited the process for Rick’s groom’s license.

Clearly Scott had spent a lot of money. An RV like this wasn’t cheap. And part of her knew she shouldn’t accept it. He was already covering the cost of an investigator.

But an onsite trailer was the perfect solution. As Rick pointed out, it would keep Victoria’s accomplices at bay without forcing Eve to make any accusations. And they could concentrate on the horses.

Footsteps shuffled on the road to the horse path. Miguel was already limping back to the dorms. He’d stayed late to watch the barn, a loyal employee who certainly deserved to keep his position. If they could lie low and wait for Jackson to sort out his marital problems, maybe they could all keep their jobs. This RV would help achieve that.

Still, Scott’s presence hung like an oppressive cloud, his long reach now extending to her job. And closer to Joey.

She glanced at Rick. “If you’d asked me about this,” she said, “I would have refused.”

“I know,” he said. He’d placed his helmet on the seat but remained by his bike. And it was clear he wasn’t going to influence her. As he could, so easily. With a mere three-second kiss, or the brush of his finger, or that sexy chuckle. She swallowed, accepting she was already committed. She’d made the decision to sleep with him when they were sitting in the first meadow. He’d been the one who’d chosen not to rush.

“I suppose an RV would make things easier,” she said. But that sounded all wrong and she winced, glad it was too dark for him to see her embarrassment. “Not for us,” she added quickly. “But you probably don’t like sleeping in a stall.”

She didn’t hear him move, but within seconds he was standing beside her. He tilted her head, studying her expression, and for the first time since they’d met, he seemed uncertain.

“I don’t mind where I sleep,” he said. “If it’s too much, I can make a call. It will be towed away within the hour. But I wanted something better. For you… for us.”

His quiet words swept away her uncertainty. Sometimes he said such sweet things, and they always left her speechless. She hadn’t dared hope this might last longer than the meet. And maybe it wouldn’t.

But when he held her like this, his big hands cradling her face as if she was the focus of his world, she truly believed love was possible again.

“Just go inside and check it out,” he said. “There’s chocolate, wine and food in the fridge. The shower even has special jets. Supposed to ease muscle pain.”

He went on about how the pulsing spray might help her wrist and that the king-sized bed even had a magnetic mattress, and how important good health was for her job. If he were any more persuasive—and if she had an extra thirty grand stuck in her back pocket—she would have bought the RV on the spot. And now he was speaking about a reclining massage chair with zero gravity and heat therapy, but her mind simply couldn’t absorb any more.

Nobody had ever looked after her like this. She’d pushed most men away, too focused on Joey and her career, and the strain of carving out a living in a very competitive industry. But she didn’t want to push Rick away. Not one bit.

At some point he’d stopped talking, and she could feel the tension in his hands. “Too much?” he asked. “Or too soon?”

“Actually,” she said, happiness bubbling in her chest until it leaked from the corners of her mouth. “You had me at chocolate.”

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

 

 

Eve followed Rick into the RV. She let go of his hand to pull off her boots, then gawked at the kitchen. Everything was sleek and sophisticated, from the stainless steel appliances to the built-in wine cooler, already fully stocked.

It was even more luxurious than anticipated, and she’d expected a lot, based on Rick’s pitch and the gleaming exterior. The fridge reminded her of Scott and Megan’s, smaller but equipped with the same type of shaved ice dispenser that Joey always spoke about.

“Beer? Wine? Water?” Rick asked, flinging open cabinet doors and searching for glasses.

“Beer, please,” she said. “But where’s that chocolate?”

He smiled and dropped two foil packages on the table, along with a bag of peanuts. “There’s dark and milk. I wasn’t sure of your favorite.”

She studied the buffet of chocolate: the dark truffles wrapped in gold and the miniature Swiss chocolate bars. She’d always been a sucker for sweets. But when she was a jockey, she’d rarely indulged. The weigh scales were too unforgiving.

Now it felt like a fairy godmother was waving her wand. And the beer Rick expertly poured into a tall glass was her favorite, the same kind she’d ordered at the restaurant today.

He’d remembered everything—even how she’d wistfully eyed a milk chocolate bar when they stopped for Miguel’s tobacco. And his thoughtfulness moved her even more than the luxurious RV. But it was incomprehensible how he’d arranged everything. He’d been with her all day. And the few times he’d used his phone had been noticeably brief.

She took a sip from her chilled glass, noting the compact massage chair in the corner. Her doctor had recommended one of those but the price had been much too steep.

“This is amazing.” She gave an appreciative smile, still absorbing all the features. “But how did you arrange it?”

“Scott’s assistant, Belinda,” Rick said. “She’s super efficient. Keeps a file on everything.”

Eve’s fingers tightened around the glass. Of course. Rick would have been given extensive information. About the track, about the staff, about her. So it wasn’t surprising he knew how to push her buttons. The warmth in her chest disappeared, replaced by a chill that matched the beer.

He wasn’t looking at her. He moved around the kitchen with easy authority, expertly checking his phone and a computer screen, looking less like a prison parolee but perhaps someone more lethal. She knew from media coverage that Scott’s company was known for tackling dangerous criminals. And those reports were always blunted as Scott tried to keep details of his cases private.

Megan had once said investigators who didn’t have an office were the ones Scott relied on to handle the most dangerous assignments. Those types of men were wasted on mundane track theft. She’d already noticed Rick’s sheer athleticism, his surprising quickness. Only that morning he’d snapped a horsefly in midair, before it could even think of biting Stinger. No doubt, those hands had done much more than snag flies.

A shiver ran down her back. He wouldn’t stay around long, that was certain. Perhaps he wasn’t bored yet, but he would be. Unfortunately, she was totally smitten. After a day of being pressed against him on the bike, she’d memorized every one of those hard ridges, knew exactly how fast his hands could make her quiver, and how the feel of his hungry mouth left her gasping.

They both knew they were going to end up on that king-sized bed with the goose down pillows and magnetic mattress. They’d gone too far to stop now. It was evident in the possessive brush of his hand when he passed her the beer, the timbre of his voice, even the sexual undertones crackling in the kitchen.

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