Racetrack Romance BOX SET (Books 1-3) (32 page)

“Part of an earlier discussion,” Kurt said.

“Ease up. Your kind of discussion lands us in legal trouble.”

“You knew what you were getting when you called me.” Resentment hardened Kurt’s voice. Archer was probably taping the call, protecting his ass. “Did you get the horse’s blood results back?”

“Preliminary. So far, no illegal substances were found, and all the blood came from the victim. By the way, Laing passed the security booth three minutes ago.”

“Gotta go. I’ll call tomorrow.”

He stuck the phone in his pocket and sat in front of Cisco’s stall. Didn't wait long. Otto’s horse jammed his flaring nostrils over the door, stared down the aisle then edged back and stood motionless in the darkest corner of his stall.

Otto swaggered in from the shadows.

“Why, I wonder, are your horses always happy to see you?” Kurt asked.

Otto walked past.

“Gee, you’re quiet.” Kurt rose from the chair. “Tough night at the windows?”

Otto disappeared in his tack room. Kurt stiffened, then remembered all the shovels and pitchforks were gone and relaxed his fists.

Otto reappeared. Didn’t look at Kurt, just locked his tack room, trudged down the aisle and out the door.

“Don’t forget to feed your horse!” Kurt called.

But the man was gone.

Kurt sat down, rubbing his jaw. Otto’s restraint was unexpected and creepy. Someone must have cautioned him, someone very persuasive if they had realigned him so quickly. Someone damn dangerous.

Otto’s horse shuffled back to the front of his stall. His head stretched over the door, and he stared at Kurt with soulful brown eyes. Kurt rose, knowing he couldn’t let the animal starve. He found an extra bucket, gave the horse hay and water and lingered by the door, watching the gelding devour the hay.

A familiar horse clopped down the aisle.

“There’s the big trainer,” Sandra called from beside a sweat-streaked Okie. “You should have told me to bet your two-year-old. I missed that one.”

“I missed it too,” Kurt said. “Didn’t think Ace would get up in such a short race. His pedigree says he can't sprint.”

“And Appaloosas can’t run. Ace got along well with Julie, just like Cody’s planning to.” Her voice was muffled as she tugged at her cinch.

“What did you say?”

Sandra seemed to be having unusual difficulties with her saddle and struggled to loosen her latigo. “Pedigrees don't mean shit,” she said.

“No, what did you say about Cody?”

“Oh, that.” She shrugged but didn’t turn around. “I heard that Cody stocked up on bacon and eggs and hopes to have a guest for breakfast tomorrow.”

“That’s Julie’s business.” Kurt crossed his arms. “And I’m sure she has better taste in men.”

“Cody’s a good-looking guy.”

“His looks might be okay. But he almost killed her with his horse,” Kurt snapped. “It's a brain he lacks.”

“His looks are more than okay. He's also easygoing and has enough of a brain to know the timing is right.” Sandra pulled the heavy saddle off, and Okie grunted with relief. “Julie finally unloaded her guilt and is ready for some fun. And Cody’s more than happy to provide it.”

Sandra adjusted the saddle against her hip and headed to her tack room, whistling cheerfully.

Kurt dragged a hand through his hair, knowing a setup when he heard one. He also knew he'd hurt Julie badly. She completely misunderstood his relationship with Tiffany, and he should have tried harder to explain.

He rose and folded up his chair. “Is everyone going to the same pub as last week? I’ll give you a ride over. Guess I’ll head that way after all.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

Kurt held the door open, his anticipation rising as he followed Sandra inside. Champs wasn't as busy as last Saturday night. Conversation flowed but it was relaxed, almost hushed. No country music either. A chalkboard advertised tunes from the sixties and seventies; the mood was a mid-week mellow.

Julie, Cody and Gary Bixton sat at a large table ringed with empty chairs. Sandra walked over and plunked herself between Cody and a grinning Bixton. Kurt rounded the table and nabbed the chair on the other side of Julie.

“Hi,” she said. Her face was solemn, but he thought there was some warmth in her voice. “Did Ace come back okay?”

“Yeah,” Kurt said. “He seems fine. Did you ride any other races tonight?”

“No, but Red Jollymore is giving me two rides next week.” She smiled then with a mixture of speculation and gratitude. “Do you know Red very well? He’s one of the biggest trainers here and really respects your opinion.”

“We've talked a bit. He has the nice bay, Sweating Bullet, in Lazer’s race tomorrow.” Kurt glanced over Julie’s head, grateful Sandra had distracted Cody. It was doubtful Cody would check on Julie in the next few minutes, not while Sandra was listening to him with such rapt attention.

“How’s your dad doing?” Kurt lowered his voice. “I gather he and Nick were good friends.”

“He’s upset. Can’t believe Nick was trampled by a horse. Wishes Otto would leave and take that crazy gelding with him.”

“I think Otto will be gone soon,” Kurt said. “Until then, you and Sandra need to stay away from him.”

She shrugged. “We try not to be alone when he’s around. He didn't even ask me to gallop. Maybe he’s using someone else.” The wistfulness in her voice was unmistakable, and it was clear she had no intention of avoiding Otto. Was eager for any ride—whatever the cost.

“Stay away from him.” Kurt’s voice hardened. “He’s unpredictable. Please,” he added.

She hesitated but must have noticed something in his expression. “Okay,” she finally said. “I'll stay away.”

He nodded, but Cody shot him a suspicious look so he studied the wall, pretending interest in the race pictures. Cody’s attention swung back to Sandra.

Julie scraped at the label of her beer bottle and Kurt reached over, stilling her hand. “I’d still like to have dinner with you,” he whispered. “Whenever you’re free. Just let me know…maybe tomorrow?”

She searched his face, her gaze steady. “I assumed you’d be meeting someone tonight. Tiffany, maybe?”

“No.” He shook his head, emphatic.

“Okay then,” she said. “Dinner after Lazer’s race tomorrow. That would be great.”

Her acceptance stirred a bittersweet mix of relief and frustration. Too bad she wouldn’t dump Cody right now. Obviously she was only with that asshole because of their earlier misunderstanding.

“Dinner tomorrow,” Kurt said. “And if you’re not riding on Sunday, let's head back to that mountain. Did you ever tell anyone about the grizzly?”

“Just the warden so he could post a warning. Certainly not Dad—he'd have been horrified with me—surprising a sow like that.”

More likely he’d be horrified with me, Kurt thought, sucking in a regretful breath. “Listen, Julie.” He wet his mouth. “I really need to talk to you.”

But already her attention had shifted; she’d turned to Cody, her official date for the evening.

He considered his next move then leaned forward, deciding Lazer was his best hook. “Are you looking forward to the race tomorrow?”

She glanced back at him, face alight. “Oh, yes,” she breathed. “Dreaming about it. Lazer and I win, but that's the best thing about dreams. The ending is always perfect.”

His own uncertainties about Lazer mushroomed, and he regretted not shipping out a more reliable horse. He had so many good ones. It would have been easy to give Julie her first win. She’d been working hard. Deserved a break.

“Don’t be disappointed if Lazer doesn't fire,” Kurt said. “He should run okay with that group but winning is probably out—”

Kurt stopped talking as Cody stretched a possessive arm along the back of Julie’s chair. “How you doing, beautiful?” Cody asked. “Need another beer?” He leaned closer and whispered something in her ear.

Kurt leaned back, amused by how hard the man was trying. Fawning over a woman never worked, and it certainly wouldn’t impress someone as smart as Julie. But whatever Cody whispered made her laugh, a spontaneous sound that flattened Kurt’s smile—that fucking guy was such an asshole.

No one else seemed to mind the jerk. Bixton just grinned and sipped his drink; Sandra picked up the laminated menu and complained about a price increase on the Caesar salad.

Cody’s head moved closer, almost touching Julie’s now. More low laughter. The guy was all over her, monopolizing her attention, pouring her beer, making her dimples flash. Kurt rubbed his knuckles. He glanced away, then back. Wondered if she’d had supper. Since it was a race day, she probably hadn’t eaten much.

He touched her shoulder, somewhat mollified when she quickly turned from Cody. “You hungry?” Kurt asked. “I’m going up to order a hamburger. Want one?”

“Oh, yes. I'm starving.” She smiled hopefully. “Fries too?”

“Of course. Fries too. Be right back.” He held Cody’s resentful glare with a challenging stare of his own, rose and walked to the bar.

Screw etiquette. Cody was a lousy date, not worth worrying about. Certainly not worth stepping aside for. Kurt didn’t usually compete for women—there was always another perched at the next bar stool—but Julie was different.

“Kurt!” Tiffany’s delighted voice echoed through the sleepy room. She rat-tat-tatted across the floor in her sexy heels and wrapped her arms around him in an intimate hug.

He glanced over the top of her head. Everyone at the bar seemed to be watching. Sandra scowled, Bixton appeared envious and Julie looked…stricken.

“Hi, Tiffany.” He quickly disentangled himself and stepped back. “Let me buy you a drink before I return to my table.”

She stuck out her lower lip and pouted. “I just wanted to say congratulations. Your young horse ran well tonight. Oh, by the way, this is Nate.” She grabbed a man in red suspenders and a tailored suit, tugging him to her side.

“Hello,” Nate said, shaking Kurt’s hand. “Tiffany insisted we use your entry in our exacta, so we had a good return on our investment.”

“Good. Seems I was the only one who didn’t bet my horse.” Kurt signaled the waiter and ordered two hamburger specials.

Tiffany stepped closer. “Nate is just a banking friend,” she whispered. “I really had a good time last night.”

“Yeah, me too.” But he fought the urge to check over his shoulder even as he made polite conversation.

By the time he returned to his seat all he could see of Julie was her rigid back. Even Sandra shot him a glare before continuing her conversation with a grinning Bixton. The table, however, had brightened considerably and now was crammed with a colorful display of shooters.

“Another one down the hatch,” Cody said. He clinked his glass against Julie’s, and they simultaneously chugged. “Nothing to it, beautiful,” Cody said. “You're getting the hang of it. Almost beat me that time. Now we chase with beer.”

Julie swigged her beer then accepted the next shooter Cody passed her.

Kurt folded his arms and tried to look bored. If Julie and Cody wanted to get blitzed drinking the shooter menu, that was their business. He didn’t give a shit. But he was definitely going to leave after he ate. No way would he sit and watch them giggle and drink and giggle some more.

It was a relief when the food waiter arrived, balancing a tray of steaming plates. “The one with the fries is hers.” Kurt gestured at Julie.

Julie didn't look at Kurt but gave the waiter a polite smile. “I’m not hungry anymore, thanks.” She reached out and drained another shooter, surprising even Cody.

“Wow, babe, you’re one up on me.” Cody set his glass down and rose with a smirk. “Be right back. I’m going to play our song.”

Kurt bit into his hamburger, watching Cody weave toward the bar. Julie grabbed another shooter, not seeming to care she was chugging alone.

Cody strutted back, and the words to ‘Julie, Do Ya Love Me’ filled the room. The food stuck in Kurt’s throat as he recognized the tune Sandra had been whistling. He pushed the plate away, his appetite replaced with full-blown frustration.

Julie was already reaching for another shooter. He grabbed her hand. “Better slow down. I don't want a hung-over jockey riding my horse tomorrow.”

She tilted her nose, haughty as a drunk can be. “I don’t care if I ride Lazy.”

“Lazer,” he snapped. “And you do care. Have some food or coffee instead.”

“I prefer these delicious shooters.” She slurred the last two words, dismissing him with a swish of her hair.

“We should find a spot that's a tad quieter.” Cody’s reddened eyes flickered over Kurt then back to Julie. “My place is only twenty minutes away. I’ll call a cab.”

“Okay, but first I want to drink the pretty green one.” She tried to pick up the glass but sloshed most of it on her hand.

“You can drink mine too, beautiful. I gotta pick something up.” Cody tossed some coins in the air, leered at Kurt and headed crookedly toward the men’s bathroom.

A muscle ticked in Kurt's jaw and the side of his forehead throbbed. Drunk or sober, Cody was an asshole. And Kurt had pushed Julie into his arms. He couldn't just stand back and let her leave with the prick, not while she was so wasted.

He rose so fast his chair toppled. Stalked around the table to Sandra. “Don’t worry about Julie,” he said. “I’m taking her home now.”

“Give your head a shake,” Sandra said. “She won’t go with you. Not after seeing that snob from the office plastered against your chest. And I don’t blame her.”

“Just don’t worry about her,” Kurt said. His gaze swung to Bixton who stared with an expression that resembled approval.

Kurt rounded the table. He winced as the glass clinked loudly against Julie’s teeth. “Phone call for you,” he said. “Some trainer looking for a rider.”

She looked up, her eyes glassy. “What?”

“You’ll have to go outside so you can hear. Come on.” He put his arm around her waist, grabbed her purse and propelled her outside.

She stumbled on the doorstep, blinking owlishly as she peered around. “What phone?”

“Over here.” He guided her to his truck, buckled her in the seat and pressed his cell phone in her hand. Slammed the door and slid behind the wheel.