Backstretch Baby (21 page)

The man wasn’t wearing his uniform though, and he looked younger and more relaxed than when he was controlling the security booth. He gave Eve a smug smile, leaning even closer when she placed her hand on his arm.

What the hell? Rick jerked his head away, wishing now he was seated on the opposite side of the room.

“Your shot again,” Woody said, nudging him in the ribs. “Nice of you to give them time to drink. But don’t let up. Make this throw and we’re onto the finals.”

Rick blasted a shot so hard it knocked over the beer bottle.

“Hey,” the opposing team protested. “What’s the ruling on that? It hit the bottle, not the cap.”

The ref’s forehead wrinkled and the man took a fortifying sip of beer. “Not sure,” he said, wiping his mouth.

“It’s a good shot.” Woody’s face flushed with indignation. “The cap came off.”

The ref pulled out his phone. “I’m going to make a call,” he said. “You guys can relax a bit.”

Rick’s finger remained locked around his next bottle cap, but he concentrated on chatting with the men, determined not to look at Eve. Or scowl at Liam.

However, it wasn’t surprising the guard was plastered to her side. She always looked achingly pretty, but usually she was sitting on her horse, out of reach of other men. Tonight though, she looked different.

He stole another look. Maybe it was her hair, not stuffed under her helmet but fluffier. Dark tendrils feathered her face, outlining her cheekbones, making her look sleek and dramatic. Even from this distance, he could see the curve of her mouth, that full lower lip, the color a little pinker than usual.

He leaned forward, wishing he were closer so he could read her expression. Make sure that persistent guard wasn’t bothering her. He couldn’t blame Liam for making a move—any man would—but there was a limit. Soon she’d stiffen and edge away.

Wait, was she smiling?

“Drop by next week,” the player opposite Rick said in Spanish.

“Yeah,” his teammate added. “We play cards on Monday, pool on Tuesday.”

Rick pulled back his attention and made an agreeable sound while Woody beamed like a proud parent. The tournament had definitely boosted his acceptance, and he did enjoy the occasional game of poker. But he wasn’t any closer to finding Victoria’s henchman, and it was frustrating to be stuck on the game floor while Eve was forced to deal with an over friendly guard.

His gaze shot back to her. He couldn’t figure this out. Her body language said she was quite content talking to Liam. Maybe she’d forgotten her aversion to uniforms. Forgotten Liam was the man who’d ordered a barricade of the track the night she’d been trying to train Tizzy. An ineffectual search too because Liam was an idiot. It had been child’s play to draw off the guards.

He snorted and looked away.

“Won’t be long now,” Woody said, misinterpreting Rick’s disgust. “The ref is calling Liverpool. They deal with all international rulings.”

“Good,” Rick said. He hadn’t intended to look back at Eve. But she was smiling and chatting, and it was obvious she was having a very good time. He grabbed his bottle of beer and took a hefty swig.

Woody’s face blanched in alarm. “What are you doing, partner? Wait until you have to drink.”

“I’m thirsty now,” Rick said.

*

The crowd silenced, every man enthralled as the Pink Viper leaned forward, flashing a spectacular display of cleavage. She shot but missed, and her cap bounced off Rick’s thigh. He snagged it, gave the woman a teasing smile, then made his return shot.

A square hit.

The Viper shrugged and reached for her bottle.

“Your groom doesn’t miss many,” Liam murmured, his mouth close to Eve’s ear. “Even with all the feminine distraction.”

“He’s clearly had lots of practice,” Eve said.

“Where did he come from? I checked his background but didn’t find much. Ashley wasn’t sure either. She said some investigator type?”

“My boss sent him,” she said, cutting off Liam’s questioning. The man had been a big help, but he’d been hanging over her all night and now she just wanted him to leave.

She edged back a step. Obviously the locals were wary of him. Even Juanita had stayed away, remaining on the opposite side of the room. It was amusing how a little makeup and a good haircut could change a man’s attitude. Liam had dropped his dogmatic attitude and was actually being helpful, even offering to dig up more of Marcus’s background. Of course, men were always drawn by feminine flash.

Except for Rick who seemed to prefer her fresh-faced with helmet hair and a horse in hand. And generally that was a positive. But a sour taste rose in her throat. Because although he wouldn’t admit it, it was also clear he preferred she were childless.

A spontaneous round of clapping pulled back her attention. “What happened,” she asked. “Is the tournament finally over?”

Liam shook his head. “No. The Vipers were supposed to drink another beer, but your groom waived it. He’s drinking for them.”

“How very kind,” she said, reluctantly glancing across the room.

Woody looked annoyed but the rest of the men were enthused, clearly enjoying the continuing flash of breasts. Someone patted Rick on the back, and a couple others gave  him fist bumps.

“It’s taken me years to get to know those people,” Liam said, his voice thickening. “Yet he waltzes in and they accept him like a brother.”

“Because he doesn’t think of them as
those
people,” she said.

Liam gave her a narrowed look but she ignored him. Beneath Rick’s tough appearance, he was one of the kindest men she knew. He had the ability to relate to everyone. And he listened when people spoke, really listened.

But she didn’t want to discuss that with Liam. She was tired of the cheering crowd, tired of this tournament that seemed to drag on, and she was especially tired of watching the pretty Pink Viper flirt with Rick.

“I have to go and check the horses,” she said, easing toward the door. Miguel would be finished Tizzy’s massage by now, and it was quite clear Rick and Woody were going to win. They’d controlled every game from the initial toss. Woody obviously had an excellent eye for choosing caps partners.

“Want a drive home?” Liam asked.

“No, thanks,” she said, glancing around the room. Ashley was still by the bar, flirting with an outrider in a cowboy hat, but Juanita and Camila were nowhere in sight. Camila was probably missing her boyfriend, especially since he’d won the tournament last year. Drugs could really screw up lives, even innocent ones.

“Did you notice if Juanita and Camila left?” she asked.

“Juanita is hanging a poster in the men’s washroom.” Liam gave a disapproving shake of his head. “But Camila and that guy left ten minutes ago.”

“What guy? You mean Marcus? The one who’s friends with Victoria?”

“That’s right,” Liam said.

Eve strode along the horse path, relieved to escape the tournament and finally breathe in some fresh air. This route was quicker than the road, and once her eyes adjusted to the dark, it wasn’t necessary to use her phone light.

She was eager to hear Miguel’s report on Tizzy. Maybe he’d found some muscle kinks, a soreness the vets had missed. She had complete faith in the old groom. Even though he’d never had any formal training it was noticeable that whenever he worked on a horse, the animal always seemed to do better.

She could never pinpoint the change, but she’d ridden the horses he’d rubbed, and they stepped out a little further. Had a little strut to their walk. And she needed Tizzy healthy. Needed him to run like he had last year. Time was running out.

Her steps quickened just thinking of Victoria and her far-reaching tentacles. The woman would obviously do anything to discredit perceived rivals, and the fact that Marcus had been her closest friend here was troubling. The man looked a little sketchy. His eyes had been flickering between Camila and the Vipers the entire night, as if trying to decide who to take home. He’d even been studying Ashley like she was low-hanging fruit. And according to the security guard, he was more than just a creep.

Something rustled in the underbrush. Something small. At least, she told herself it was small. But thoughts of Marcus left her jumpy, and goose bumps chilled the back of her neck.

She pulled out her phone, squeezing it in her palm, all the while chiding herself for the paranoia. No matter how creepy Marcus was, Victoria wouldn’t send someone to rough her up. That would be too extreme. Victoria’s style was sneaky sabotage, not physical brutality.

Still, she kept her finger over the phone, ready to call security. Rick had programmed both his cell number and the guardhouse into her speed dial, and a guard’s Jeep could squeeze onto the horse path. Of course, Liam and his crew would take several minutes to arrive.

She checked over her shoulder, relieved she’d turned off the phone light. Her boots were silent on the dirt and if she hugged the edge of the dark path, she’d be difficult to spot. And even though the urge to bolt to the safety of her barn was overwhelming, she forced herself to move slowly. Quietly. She even paused several times to check the night sounds.

Whatever had been rustling in the bushes was now silent. Probably a rat. There were plenty of those around the track. But the darkness abruptly shifted, revealing a man-sized silhouette. Her knees buckled.

The shadow was huge. And she could hear his breathing, as if he’d been running. And now that he’d caught her, he was content to stand on the path. Waiting.

She swallowed, tasting the dryness of her throat. She could wheel and bolt to the main road. She was a fast runner and in shape. But it wouldn’t solve anything. Besides, she was tired of this harassment. Tired of Victoria causing problems for her horses, her staff, and ultimately her son.

She was tired of being afraid.

Anger blasted through her body, strengthening her legs and blowing away her fear. She launched forward, yelling and balancing for a forceful kick where it would hurt a man the most.

“Hey,” Rick’s voice said.

She skidded to a stop, landing awkwardly in front of him, her right leg extended.

“Oh.” She sagged with relief. “It’s you. I was going to—”

“Hurt me badly.” He sounded amused. “And then I hope you were ready to run like hell.”

“Yes,” she said, her voice shaky. “If my legs worked. I was a little scared.”

“Sorry,” he said. “Thought you could see me.” And then his arms wrapped around her, and for a moment she let herself slump against his chest. He was strong, familiar and comforting, and he smelled of leather and beer and male assurance.

And perfume.

She pulled away. “Is the tournament over?”

“Yup.” He dropped his arms. “We wrapped that last game up quickly. I didn’t want you walking home alone.”

He’d left the adulation of his fans, his partner, even the Pink Vipers, to make sure she reached the barn safely. Her voice softened. “It must have been hard to leave.”

“Ashley offered to fill in for the trophy presentation.”

Eve smiled. “She’ll love that. She misses the winner’s circle.” But then she sobered. This was his moment and he deserved to enjoy the night, the entire night.

“You should go back,” she said. “This is a big event. They’ll want you there.”

“But I wanted to leave,” he said. “I don’t like crowds much. They teach us how to get along, but it’s only pretend.”

He spoke slowly, enunciating his words too carefully, and it was clear he was a little buzzed. Or maybe a lot. But the fact he was sharing information about himself was very revealing as to his sobriety.

“And you don’t like kids either, do you?” she asked.

She heard his quick intake of breath. Knew she’d hit a nerve. But it was important to know, and now was the ideal time to ask some questions.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “I wouldn’t have slept with you if I had known…wouldn’t have let myself feel like this.”

His words were definitely slurring. Of course, he had downed a lot of beer. But drunk men told the truth. And even though it was a relief he didn’t deny their attraction, she was filled with an aching sadness. Because he spoke with such finality.

She swallowed back her despair, forcing herself to speak crisply. “Joey is the most important thing to me. The reason for everything I do.”

“As he should be,” Rick said.

They walked in silence. His steps were generally even, although he did stumble once. She automatically reached out to steady him, then pulled back her hand. It was tragic that she enjoyed his company so much. That their relationship was doomed. Because she was still intensely attracted. She’d have to find ways to avoid him. And just hope he left the track soon.

“I’ll sleep in the barn the rest of the meet,” he said. “I want you to use the RV.”

She shook her head. “I have a bed in the dorm.”

“No. Ashley told me your son is coming Sunday. The RV will make it easier. And a lot more fun for him.”

She opened, then closed her mouth. Rick was always so thoughtful. It would be much easier if she could dislike him. She didn’t try to speak again. Could only walk in the achy silence.

The barn loomed in front of them. Whinnies sounded a greeting and she lengthened her steps, eager to be with something that wanted her, even if it was only horses.

“Wait.” Rick caught her wrist. “Don’t you usually have night lights?”

She stilled. There was always a light by the door. Yet the building was totally dark. Not quiet though. Straw rustled and an impatient animal slammed the wall, the sound shattering the night. The horses should be more content. Miguel would have filled their hay nets.

“Stay behind me.” Rick shifted forward so swiftly he was almost ten feet away before she could hurry after him.

He paused in the doorway, his head bent.

“What is it?” she asked, bumping into him.

She peered around, straining to see. Recognized Miguel’s wiry shape sprawled in the aisle the same time as she absorbed the harsh reek of booze.

“Oh, no.” She pushed past Rick and sank to the floor.