• Seven •
“Do you think that was, like, a booty call?”
Capri
Esther sat across the booth from me at Ray’s, our favorite pizza place in town, twirling the straw in her iced tea while telling me about the colors she had decided on for her wedding. I did my best to listen and act like I cared. I did kinda care. I mean, she was my best friend, and she was engaged. I was happy she was happy about it. Although she’d known Jaiden most of her life. We both had. It just seemed … boring.
They’d had sex last year for the first time, and she’d worried about it for weeks after. Sometimes, I wondered if he’d proposed out of guilt. Sex before marriage was a sin. I, however, wasn’t so sure it was something that would keep you out of heaven. I mean, the Bible had been translated so many times that there had to be things that were added along the way. How did we know what was actually God’s word and not something some uptight, stick-in-the-mud religious zealot had thrown in there hundreds of years ago?
I just didn’t see why them having sex meant they had to get married. I mean, the deed was done. Getting married didn’t erase it. God forgave sins. You didn’t get them wiped by marrying someone. Seemed dramatic to me.
“You look so good in turquoise,” she said, snapping me out of my thoughts.
I’d missed what she said before that. Oops. She was looking at me to respond.
“Uh, yeah, I love turquoise,” I agreed, hoping that was what I was supposed to say.
Her brows drew together, and she leaned back against her seat. “I’m boring you. I’ll stop the wedding talk. I know I’ve been doing that a lot lately.”
I shook my head. “No, I want to hear it.” Lie, but I felt like a bad friend.
She grinned. “You’re a terrible liar. You were completely zoning out on me. I could see it in your eyes. Tell me about the jockey gig at the Shephards’. How’s it going up in the lair of the rich and sinful?”
I laughed and picked up my glass of water. She knew my parents had been furious when they found out I was riding for the Shephards. Not that they had any say so in my life anymore, but that didn’t stop my mother from ranting at me for days about the dangers of working for “those people.”
“It’s amazing,” I told her. “They’re normal people. It’s no different than the other stables I’ve ridden for. Well, except these are by far the most elaborate stables I’ve ever seen.”
Esther wagged her eyebrows. “And it’s full of eye candy.”
I took a drink and tried not to think about Thatcher. I’d had more cookies at my door last night. I wanted them to be from him, but I couldn’t work that out in my head. He barely spoke to me.
“I’m there to ride for them. Not ogle them.” Not that I was looking at any of them, but Thatcher.
Sebastian was really nice, and he was attractive, too, but he wasn’t his brother.
“Yeah, right. And seeing those wicked hot studs all the time has nothing to do with you staying away from Haines.”
I gave her a pointed look. “I am staying away from Haines because I don’t want to hear about teeth, and that’s all he can talk about.”
She giggled as she stuck her straw in her mouth to drink more of her tea.
“Medium Nashville buffalo chicken with extra sauce,” the server said as he placed it between us on the stand that he had brought out earlier with our plates. “And the house salad dressing on the side.”
“Thank you,” I told him.
“Can I get you anything else? More drinks?”
I nodded. “Yes, please.”
Esther held up her glass. “Me too.”
When he left, she looked back at me. “We should have gotten a large. I am ravenous.”
“We never finish the medium,” I pointed out.
She shrugged. “Well, today, I could eat this whole thing by myself.”
I’d had two lemon crinkle cookies with my coffee this morning. I had to be careful what I ate the rest of the day.
“If you can eat all this, then I’ll buy you one to go. I can only eat half a slice. I have a race next weekend.”
She grinned. “Deal.” Her eyes lifted to look past me, then widened before snapping back to mine. “Speaking of race, I think that’s Thatcher Shephard,” she whispered, leaning toward me.
My heart rate instantly picked up. I wanted to turn and look, but I wasn’t sure if I should.
“Do you ever see him at the stables?” she asked.
I reached for a slice of pizza and placed it on my plate to cut into two, trying to act like I wasn’t at all interested in Thatcher being here. “Sometimes,” I replied. I realized she was looking at him again. “Stop staring at him.”
Her eyes dropped back to mine, and then she took a slice of pizza. “Fine. I won’t look, but I’m intrigued. He just sat down across from some woman. I can’t see her face, just the back of her head. I mean, I know he’s sexy and richer than God, but he’s also a murderer.” Her voice dropped so low on the last word that I barely heard it.
Why was everyone so fixated on that? I mean, we didn’t know the details, and clearly, there had been a reason if he didn’t go to prison. This town seemed obsessed with making up stuff about the Shephards. The Salazars, Jones, and Kingstons too. All because they had a lot of businesses together, were in horse racing, and were wealthy.
“We don’t really know the details on all that. Shouldn’t talk about it,” I told her, then took a bite of my salad after barely dipping it into the Italian dressing.
Although I did want to look back and see what female he was with. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t deflated, hearing he was with a woman. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d seen him with someone. There had been two different mornings when he walked out of the stables with some tall, leggy, big-breasted female who looked like she’d just gotten out of his bed. Which made me curious about where his bed was. Did he actually have one at the stables? Regardless, the sight of those women always reminded me of what he liked, and I had none of that going for me.
She finished chewing and swallowed her pizza, then reached for her glass before peeking back over my shoulder. “He’s not as pretty as his brother. Maybe it’s because he has the hard glint in his eyes,” she said, then looked back at me.
“Please stop it. He is going to see you gawking at him and then see me,” I told her.
“So?”
“I ride for them, and I don’t want him to think we are talking about him,” I explained.
She took the other half of my slice of pizza. “Fine. I won’t look.”
The server placed our new drinks on the table. “Can I get you anything else? The pizza and salad all good?”
“It’s perfect. Thank you. Just bring the check when you get a chance,” I told him.
He nodded, then walked over to the next booth.
“If we can’t talk about the rich and terrifying, then let’s discuss this issue you have with Haines and teeth.”
I rolled my eyes and took another bite of salad, then shook my head. I wasn’t doing that. Esther was going to drive me nuts with her need for me to be in a relationship with someone. Just because she was didn’t mean I had to be too. The dream—where we got married at the same time, lived next door to each other, had daughters who were best friends—was something she’d come up with when we were kids. Not me. I always listened to her and smiled. But she never seemed to realize I wasn’t agreeing that it sounded like a great plan.
“Haines has that nice, big house, and he drives a Mercedes. He probably has his own personal gym in that house you could use. He’s also not hard to look at,” she said, then took another bite.
“There isn’t that thing between us. No spark. It’s not exciting,” I replied.
She frowned. “Not exciting? What is supposed to be exciting?”
If she didn’t understand, then I didn’t know how to explain it. Maybe it was just me who desired some kind of excitement. I wanted that rush or thrill that I got when racing. The only thing Haines made me feel was annoyance.
“I just want more,” I told her.
She looked over my shoulder again. “I think she’s a stripper,” she whispered. “She looks like one at least.”
I didn’t have to ask to know she was talking about the woman with Thatcher.
“He has a type,” I replied sourly. Because I was not that type. I would never be that type.
“They’re leaving. He didn’t even eat. Looks like she had eaten before he got here,” Esther said.
“Would you stop watching them?” I hissed. I didn’t need a play-by-play.
She frowned at me. “What? They aren’t looking this way. They are walking out.”
I picked up my water, no longer hungry. I wished she hadn’t told me what the woman looked like. It was hard enough seeing him with them at the stables.
I scanned the area for our server. I was going to box up the salad to go and hopefully pay our bill.
“Do you think that was, like, a booty call? He came to buy her meal, then take her back to his place and have wild sex. I wonder if he does that freaky stuff—you know, like whips and chains and that kind of thing.”
She was looking at me for a response. I did not want to think about Thatcher having sex with the stripper.
“Can we talk about something else?”
I saw the server and waved at him. I was ready to leave.
“Yes?” he said, smiling as he came over to us.
“Could you bring me a to-go box? And I need to pay the bill,” I told him.
“Absolutely, and your bill has been covered.”
I frowned, not sure I understood. “No, you haven’t brought it to me yet.”
He grinned. “Mr. Shephard paid it already. He tipped too. So, don’t worry about leaving one. He left plenty.”
I had no words. I just stared at him as he walked away.
“Holy shit,” Esther said.
Why had he paid for our meal?
“Did he even look this way?” I asked her.
She shook her head. “Not that I noticed, but he paid the tab, so he must have seen you.” She leaned closer to me. “Does he talk to you at work? I mean, are you keeping something from me?”
I shook my head. “He barely speaks to me or looks my way. Maybe he paid for it because I have that race with Bloodline next week?” My words sounded like a question. But it made no sense.
The cookies had been confusing, but he’d just bought my meal. Maybe the cookies had been from him. But why? Was he waiting for me to say something to him about it? Did he think I would know he was doing it? What if he wasn’t the one leaving them and I made a fool of myself? I didn’t have answers to any of these questions, and I didn’t know where to get them.