• Twenty-Eight •

It wasn’t a pissing contest.

Capri

The banging noise woke me, and it took me a moment to figure out what it was. The sound of Esther yelling my name, however, cleared that up. I tossed off the covers to get up when I realized I was naked. I stared down at my body, and it took about point-three seconds before I remembered.

Thatcher.

I touched my thigh as last night all started replaying in my head.

More banging on my door snapped me out of really good memories, and I got up. Going to my dresser, I grabbed an oversize T-shirt I slept in and tugged it over my head as I made my way to the door. She was going to scare my neighbors.

When I opened it, her eyes did a quick check on my body, seeing nothing wrong, and then she pushed past me to come inside.

“Oh my God, Capri! You scared me to death! I woke up with three missed calls and ten text messages from Tyron! What happened last night with Thatcher Shephard? It was Thatcher, wasn’t it? He said it was a guy you worked for—smoking a cigarette, had on a cowboy hat, gave off psycho vibes.”

I sighed, closing my door. I should have guessed that Tyron would call Esther. The fact that the cops never came, however, just dawned on me. I’d been too busy having orgasms last night to notice.

“I’m fine. It was Thatcher. He had some work stuff to talk about. He wasn’t being psycho. Tyron was being weird and refusing to leave.”

I needed coffee to handle this. Leaving her in the living room, I walked into the kitchen.

“He called the cops, Capri. The COPS. He clearly had a reason to think there was danger.”

I opened the cabinet to get out a coffee cup, then grabbed a pod for my machine. “The cops didn’t think it was important either, seeing as how they never came. We talked about my helping out until they fill their exercise rider position. It’s a lot to plan out and take on. We went over it. I told Tyron it was business, and it was. He saw Thatcher and got weird or jealous. I don’t know. You’ve seen Thatcher. He’s intimidating for other men.”

“Yeah, because he’s a murderer and in the Mafia.”

I rolled my eyes and covered my mouth with a yawn. I wished she’d leave and let me have my morning with my thoughts. Wait. Shit! What time was it? My eyes swung to the microwave. It was six forty. I wasn’t late yet.

“I’ve got to get ready. I have to be at the stables at seven. I told Sebastian I’d be there,” I said, leaving my coffee untouched and rushing to the bedroom to change.

“Are you serious?! All this was no big deal? Because Tyron said that Thatcher picked him up by the throat. That’s a big allegation for someone to make up.”

Dammit, Tyron. Why was he telling people? I had saved him last night. I didn’t know if I could save him again. What if I wasn’t around and Thatcher went after him? No. He wouldn’t do that. I didn’t think. I was so confused about last night and this morning. Thatcher had left when I woke up, which stung, but then I’d gone to sleep on him too. He’d given me two life-shattering orgasms, and I’d thanked him by passing out.

Just great, Capri. You finally get that thrill you were looking for, and you go on and fall asleep on the one guy who seems to do it for you.

“I think picked up by the throat is an exaggeration. But I am fine. All is well. I gotta get to work. So, let this go,” I told her, jerking on my riding pants.

She stood there, studying me with her mouth cocked to the side while she chewed on the inside of her jaw. She’d been doing it since we were kids. That look meant she wasn’t sure what she believed and was working through it. I’d have to let her do that and hope Tyron stayed quiet for now.

Slipping on a sports bra and a tank top, I went to pull my hair up in a ponytail.

“The things Tyron said sound like what I’ve heard of Thatcher.”

I walked past her and grabbed my purse. Then paused to look for my phone. “Believe what you want, but it was all exaggerated. Now, you have got to go because I am leaving and locking up.”

Where had I left it? I went back to the bedroom and checked all the usual places. Nothing. UGH! I didn’t have time to find it. I’d just go without it. Not explaining it to her, I headed for the door.

She followed me outside onto the porch.

“I’m worried about you,” she said behind me as I locked the bolt.

“Don’t be. I’m fine. Great even.”

She had no idea how great I was. It was a realm beyond what she could imagine. I’d heard her talk about sexual things she’d done, and not once had she described what I’d experienced last night.

I smiled brightly at her and headed down the stairs and out to my car.

“Please be careful,” she called out to me.

I raised a hand and waved at her without looking back. She didn’t know what she was talking about. None of them did. Except Tyron. He had told the truth, but it all came down to where my loyalties lay, and morals had nothing to do with it. I would not let Thatcher get in trouble for what he had done. Tyron was fine. His ego was a little messed up, I was sure, but other than that, he was good. He should have left when he was told to. It wasn’t a pissing contest. He’d made it one.

Pulling up to the stables, I didn’t see Thatcher’s truck, and that was a bit deflating. I was here to exercise horses anyway. Might as well not get distracted. He’d definitely do that.

King was walking out of the front with Sword when I got to the door.

“Morning,” he said. “Derek has Pharaoh ready for you to take out.”

“Thanks!”

He kept going and headed inside toward Pharaoh’s stall.

Derek stepped out with Pharaoh’s rein and tensed when he saw me. We’d once been friendly, but since JB had left, he had been distant, like the others.

“Morning, Derek,” I told him. “Going to get my gear on, and then I’ll be right out front.”

He nodded, then led Pharaoh away without a word. I was about ready to just confront the ones that were being weird with me. If JB had left because of me, then I needed to know. I could go apologize and fix it if I knew.

“Capri, good morning,” Sebastian said.

I turned to see him walking inside with Carmen. I paused. Carmen was a very-sought-after jockey. He’d been at it much longer than me and had so many wins that I didn’t even know the total count. He’d been the Shephards’ most used jockey when they contacted me about riding for them. I had never met him, but I had seen him race.

“Carmen, this is Capri—or have the two of you met?” he asked.

Carmen gave me a tight, almost-condescending smile. “No, we haven’t met. You’re the one who rode Bloodline in the Belmont Derby.”

I nodded. “Yes. It’s nice to meet you. I’ve seen you race several times.”

He smirked. “I imagine so.”

Okay, so that was rude and cocky. I didn’t think I liked him much.

“Carmen is going to take out Zephyr after you warm him up. See how they work together.”

For the Bing Crosby Stakes. I already knew that was what this was about. They were looking at someone else more seasoned to ride Zephyr. He was their next champion, and they didn’t trust me on him. Or Thatcher didn’t trust me. It was his horse after all. This was business. I had to remember that. Carmen had been in big races and was a known winning jockey.

Just because I’d had Thatcher’s head between my legs did not mean I got to race his horse.

It still felt like a kick in the stomach. Even though I understood it, the pain remained, throbbing.

“Great,” I said tightly, not meaning to. “I need to get out there and start. See you later,” I replied, not even glancing back at Carmen and his smug face.

I took several deep breaths on my way out to the track. I had to let it go. The horses didn’t need to feel my emotions. It would mess with them. Taking another breath, I looked out at Pharaoh and got my focus centered. I was here to exercise the horses. All thoughts of Thatcher had to be closed off until I was alone and could deal with it.