Jacob spent the next few days focused on training for the important semi-final in two nights’ time, trying not the dwell on the way Rachel had heated his blood, then screamed at him as though it was his fault for initiating contact. He’d needed to touch her, his pocket rocket. He shook his head and focused on the screen of the treadmill as he went through his warm down. Hot and cold. He didn’t understand what triggered her extreme reaction, but he knew he had to apologise for the assumption. The reality was that he’d only spoken to her a few times, it shouldn’t matter. She shouldn’t dominate his thoughts this much. The last time he’d been in a team facing a semi-final game, three seasons ago, he’d been fully focused on the match and on his team. This time around, she was there, a presence he couldn’t rid himself of, no matter how many weights he pressed, or kilometres he ran. The running made it worse, not better, as her name beat in his head in time with his footsteps. Rachel. Rachel. What was it about her?
His knee twinged as the treadmill slowed automatically, and he reacted a step too late, almost overstepping the front of the machine. He grabbed the handles to steady himself, as his heart skipped a beat. The last thing he needed now was an injury, not when playing in a grand final loomed close. Unlike three seasons ago, when they’d scraped into the prelim finals after finishing eighth on the table, this time, they had a real live chance at making the Grand Final. Ever since he’d left home, at thirteen on an AFL scholarship to go to a fancy private school, his entire life had been focused around that one special night at the end of September, playing in front of a sold-out crowd at the MCG. Everything he’d done in the past sixteen years was aimed at one achievement. Every taunting malicious comment about being the poor kid from the sticks, the Aboriginal boy in a colourless school filled with rich kids, every shitty thing had been endured because of the grand final goal. Sure, he had plans for his life after he retired, which made him a little odd compared to his team mates who didn’t seem to think beyond their playing days, but nothing could detract from his core goal. And yet, here he was, on the verge of a semi-final, with his thoughts distracted by a ferocious jockey, with a body designed for sin. All athletic strength in a small bundle to match her boldness. He loved, no, appreciated the way she threw herself at life, covering up any anxiety with bravado. He growled under his breath.
‘Is the knee bothering you?’ Dave, one of the team fitness advisors, asked.
‘No.’ He ought to be bothered by his knee, not by Rachel, and how she managed to distract him so thoroughly without trying. ‘A little.’
‘Maybe it’s time to ice it.’ Dave checked the screen, ‘You’ve done enough of a warm down now.’
Jacob glided backwards off the treadmill and stepped onto the ground, good leg first.
‘Sure, mate.’ He walked towards the medic’s office to begin the now familiar post-workout routine. His knee, and the dodgy ligament, would get all the attention from the team’s staff doctor and physios. With two days until Friday night’s game, an unreasonable amount of attention was being paid to one little stretchy piece of his body. He had to be right for the game.
‘Hey Jacob, when are you going to stump up some cash and join my punter’s club?’ The Palace called out, as he joined him in the line for the doctor.
‘Never. I told you it’s a scam, mate. You should pull out your cash while you still can.’
‘Ahh, mate, take a risk for a change.’ The Palace grinned. Jacob had a different idea about risk compared to his friend, Willem ‘The Palace’ Grandhomme, whose parents had immigrated here from South Africa in the early 2000s when the post-apartheid buzz had died away and the economy there had started to tank. They’d taken risks to get a perceived better life, and the Palace still had a bit of the twang in his accent to go with his blond hair and eerie blue eyes, eyes that reminded him of his father’s stories about the blue-eyed devils who claimed their land generations ago. He shook off the thought. Willem wasn’t evil, he couldn’t help his eye colour or his genetics any more than Jacob could. He’d shown his true mateship by stepping up against cruel racist comments, being there for him when it counted, by saying the things that needed to be said. Friendship through action was why Jacob wanted to help Willem now. Jacob dragged a deep breath in past his clenched teeth.
‘Rachel warned me you would try to recruit me.’
‘Rachel? Who is Rachel?’
‘Rachel Bassett, the jockey. She’s my sister’s housemate.’
The Palace thumped him on the back, ‘And I bet she’s hot. Must be, if you are taking her advice.’
‘Mate.’ Jacob warned The Palace using his tone, although his body responded with an irritatingly warm ache in his groin. He listened to Rachel for her good advice, her knowledge of racing, not because she was hot. Besides, hot as a descriptor was too simple for Rachel—her fit body with strong curves didn’t fit the fashionable mould of hot. Rachel was too short, too much of a veritable bundle of energy to be labelled hot. Simply put, she demanded his attention, every fibre of his being standing to attention whenever she was near him. He swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry.
‘Fine, fine. I won’t ask you to introduce me.’
Jacob spluttered out a laugh, ‘She’d eat you up, Palace. She might be tiny, but she’s a force to be reckoned with.’
‘Hey boys, Lawless has a new missus!’ The Palace yelled out across the weights room, and several heads turned to look at them both.
‘Are you twelve? Jesus, Palace.’
The Palace laughed as a couple of team mates called out lewd comments, and Jacob grinned. Let them think whatever they wanted. He was thinking it too. His smile grew—it was a good thing that she blew hot and cold, confusing the heck out of him, leaving him scrambling emotionally, the way he chased a slippery ball on a wet field during a game. Time to focus on keeping his knee in good enough shape for the game ahead, and time to stop thinking about how much he’d like to take Rachel firmly in hand. Hell. He ran his hand through his hair and eased out a tight breath.
‘What are you doing mixing with a jockey, anyway?’ The Palace got to the heart of the question. Everyone on the team knew about Jacob’s goal to be a lawyer after his playing career, and The Palace knew Jacob disliked the way gambling took away money and independence from the most vulnerable by preying on their hopes and aspirations for a better life. The false promises, that’s what he hated about gambling. He let out a short breath and knocked his shoulder against The Palace.
‘She’s my sister’s housemate. I’m not mixing with her, nor am I fucking her, which is what you meant by that.’ Jacob grinned as The Palace cracked up.
‘So why then?’
‘For you, of course, mate.’
‘You just told me to keep my distance.’
‘Yes.’ Jacob ground his back teeth as The Palace jerked his chin up knowingly.
‘Mate, think what you like. I talked—yeah talked—’
‘Is that all?’ The Palace made an hourglass shape in the air with his hands.
‘Get your mind out of the freaking gutter. She’s a jockey, she knows about racing. I asked her about your punter’s club, since you are so keen to press it on all of us.’ He cringed inside at the assumption he was screwing up his hard-fought clean reputation by hanging out with someone involved with horse racing.
‘That’s the right of it. You should join, because I’m making so much money. Nearly everyone else has joined up.’
Jacob coughed. ‘What?’
‘That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. You are missing out on the money.’ The Palace rubbed his fingers together.
‘It’s a scam.’ Jacob rubbed his eyes.
‘Just because you are jealous.’
Jacob sighed. ‘I’m not jealous. Look, mate, it’s your money, so I’ll stop bugging you about it, but can you answer one last question?’
‘Sure.’ The Palace squared his shoulders.
‘Are you making real money, like cash, or is it only on paper?’
The Palace laughed, ‘Trust a fucking law student to care about the particulars. Yeah, it’s mostly on paper, but some cash. All of it is real. I know it is.’
‘Because?’ Jacob didn’t bother to hide his scepticism.
The Palace kept the grin on his face, and joked, ‘Mate, that’s two questions.’
‘Fine. I’ll leave it.’ Jacob blew out a breath. Dave, the medic, had disappeared into the medic’s office while Jacob had been chatting to The Palace, and still hadn’t come out. He was getting cold standing here waiting. What was taking so long?
The Palace shoved him on the arm, ‘Nah, mate, I’m kidding. Get your missus to get us tickets for the races on Saturday, and I’ll show you what it’s all about.’
‘Saturday?’
‘Yeah, we play on Friday night. If we win, we’ll want a day to celebrate. If we lose, well, shit, we’ll need a day at the races to take our minds off it. So bloody close.’
Jacob nodded at the sentiment about the Grand Final. ‘I’ll see what I can do.’
The Palace grinned, ‘Yeah, and loosen up a bit, mate. It’s just a bit of fun, a side income. Nothing serious.’
Jacob wanted to believe his friend. Along with Rachel, they were undermining his core belief that getting involved with horse racing would hurt the clean image he’d spent years ensuring. His reputation as a fair player, and having no scandals off the field, mattered to him. Not just to change public stereotypes of him and his mob, but also for his long-term plans as lawyer. He needed the clean image to fit the life he wanted for himself.
Now it was time to get his knee treated, then he could ring Allira to see if she would be home for dinner tonight. He could do with some family time, being cared for by Allira, except he knew it was an excuse to see Rachel. The request for tickets to the races beat a steady drum of repetition in his head until he figured he had only one way forward. Stamp it out by asking. After their last discussion, she was bound to reject him, or at the least, reject the idea resoundingly, and he’d have done his obligation to his friend.
***
‘Two nights in a row, Jacob. Be careful, people will start to think you are desperate to see me.’ Rachel’s teasing tone welcomed him into Allira’s lounge, and he cleared his throat as he walked past her to place his takeaway containers in the kitchen. He’d brought enough food for the three of them, probably too much again, he’d forgotten once more how small Rachel was. For someone so tiny, she took up the whole lounge with her brash personality.
‘Where is she?’
Rachel stood on one leg, the other one pulled up to stretch her quads. ‘Who? Oh, your sister. She’s been held up with some paperwork, or something. I’m sure she’ll be here soon.’
‘Will you entertain me while I wait?’ Jacob hadn’t meant it to sound quite so flirtatious and he swallowed.
Rachel chuckled. ‘Keep dreaming, big boy.’
‘My life would be a lot easier if I could keep you out of my dreams.’
‘You do realise you aren’t supposed to say those types of thoughts aloud.’ Rachel’s grin stretched, as she swapped legs, steady. Her balance far exceeded his, and the way she switched from one side to the other without a wobble drew all his attention to her foot. His gaze drifted up her leg to where her other foot was tucked against her backside. She wore tight pants, the fabric showing off every curve and muscle, and a singlet top that hugged her waist and breasts, leaving her arms bare. With both her hands holding her foot against her butt, her back arched a little so her breasts were lifted towards him. His body reacted intrinsically to her stance, a fundamental longing to be inside her. Hell. He stopped himself before he moved towards her, as though she held him in a trance, or had cast a spell on him, or something ridiculous.
‘Does it bother you?’ His voice lowered half an octave, deep and growly.
She raised one eyebrow, her eyes steady on his with no change in her pose, ‘That you dream about me? Nah, it’s only fair since you’ve been haunting my dreams too.’
‘Dreams, or nightmares?’
She mock fanned her face. ‘Oh, definitely dreams.’
‘Is that so?’ This conversation was much more interesting than he’d anticipated. To know she reciprocated his attraction added a new depth to it, one he wanted to explore.
‘Yeah, that’s so. Unluckily for you, I don’t intend to do anything about it, and you’ll stay firmly in dreamland.’
‘What if I want more?’ He wanted everything. He wanted her to pose like that without the flimsy barrier of her tight clothes. He wanted to know how flexible she was—he wanted to sit on the floor, leaning back on his arms, while she stood over his face, legs spread wide, as he licked her, tasted her sweet musk on his tongue, fucked her with his mouth. Settle down. His breath came fast and shallow.
Rachel threw her hands out in front of her. ‘You can want all you like. It’s flattering.’
He tried to answer. No words would form. Instead, he succumbed to the action he’d wanted to do ever since he saw her on Allira’s driveway with mud smeared across her face. He stepped between her arms and wrapped his arms around her waist.
‘Rachel.’ He lowered his head until he was close enough to kiss her. Rachel swallowed, wobbling slightly, before she dropped her leg to the ground to stand solidly on both legs between his arms. She placed her hands over his, her palms dry on the backs of his hands. He inhaled her scent, a whisper of leather and horse sweetened by honey filled his nostrils. Her scent, and his tongue, pressed hard against the back of his teeth. He wouldn’t force the kiss, she had to say yes, she had to want it as much as he did.
‘Damn you.’ Or at least that’s what he thought she said before she stretched up and kissed him. A surprisingly chaste kiss, gentle, when he’d expected a kiss to match her bolshy talk. His arm muscles trembled as he tried to match her, to stay gentle and controlled, when all he wanted to do was devour her. His heart thumped as her soft lips pressed against his, and her scent, all honey and wattle, sweet and spice, threatened to overwhelm him. This tiny tough woman would be his undoing, and she didn’t even seem to realise what she did to him, as a magnetic tug of desire consumed him. His skin burned with her touch, making all his nerve endings leap and dance. He ran his tongue along her bottom lip, and she moaned, no purred, against him, a pleasing vibration that filled his mouth. She reached up and dug her fingers into the back of his skull, as she opened her mouth for him. Yes. He stroked her tongue with his, tasting her, sweet like honey with a bite of spice, and she responded in kind. Their kiss went from a quiet exploration to desperate, searing need in seconds, with her fingers clutching at his head and her body pliant against his. He slid one hand up to cradle her neck as he deepened the kiss, asking for more, and her response, a tilt of the head, asked him to go beyond his own question. She moaned, and her eyes fluttered open as he let his other hand drift lower, down to the base of her spine.
‘I want you.’ He whispered against her skin, his mouth needing to stay connected to her.
‘Yes.’ Her brown eyes darkened, almost consuming the darker streaks in the evening forest of her irises.
‘More?’ His husky voice betrayed the level of his desire, and he nibbled her bottom lip, then plundered her open mouth again. Her lips curved upwards and she loosened her hold on his head as she shifted slightly to kiss the corner of his mouth.
‘Yes. Please.’
He didn’t need any more encouragement, she had already devastated his control. He picked her up, and in two strides had her pressed up against the wall, his body hard against hers. She moaned again and tangled her tongue with his. He could barely breathe with wanting her, his hard erection pressed against her strong abs. He wanted to overpower her, relish the victory of her submission, and he shifted his hips just enough to make her aware of his fervour. Rather than submit to his kiss, she grappled for power, stroking his tongue with hers, taking them both to equal insistent need.
‘Wrap your legs around me.’ His blood raced, thundering in his veins, at her responsive kiss, and he wanted to free his hands to explore her, to slide up her sides, past the small curve of her breasts. She dragged her hands from behind his head, down over his collarbone, and onto his chest. He was sure she’d be able to feel his heart beating, it thudded so quickly.
‘No.’ She shifted away from his kiss and pushed on his chest. He immediately stepped backwards, his whole front frozen cold to match the way his heart seized.
‘No,’ Rachel repeated, and he could only gasp, unable to find words. She grabbed the collar of her singlet top and tugged it away from her skin as if to let cool air onto her skin. He couldn’t look away, as she ran her hand up her own neck, then over her skull and along her ponytail.
‘Did I do something wrong?’ he asked.
She blinked and fanned her face. ‘Hell, no.’
He moved a half-step towards her, but she held up her palm for him to stop. He peered at her, uncertain. She lifted her chin and pointed at him. Her chest heaved, to match his, both of them blowing heavily as though they’d just done a beep test.
‘You did nothing wrong. Shit man, you bloody nearly melted me with a kiss.’
Hell, yeah. She incinerated him too, if a kiss could do that, how good would they be in bed together? He didn’t need to guess, he already knew sex with her would be the best ever. Only he needed to figure out why she stopped.
‘Why do I hear a “but” in that?’ Jacob croaked out the question, through his dry mouth.
She winced, tilting her head to the side. ‘Nothing, not even that kiss, will distract me from my current plan.’
‘And that plan doesn’t include me?’
‘Ha! Don’t think you are special! The plan doesn’t include fucking anyone. I need to be single, to get my life and career sorted out without complication.’ Her face flushed slightly as she spat words at him. Perversely, her passion-filled rant made him want to kiss her reddened cheeks. Kiss her until the passion turned positive. He’d had one taste. One taste to make him insatiable for her. It didn’t take much to imagine capturing all the electric energy jolting between them and capturing it for her pleasure.
Jacob smirked, ‘It doesn’t have to be complicated. Why waste this chemistry between us?’
‘No.’ She shook her head and stood on both legs. ‘No, sex is always complicated, especially when we already know each other.’
‘Are you saying you’d fuck me if you’d never talked to me?’ He staggered backwards, as she growled at him, the type of growl a cat gave before they swiped their claws across bare skin.
‘Don’t sound so judgemental. Haven’t you ever done that?’
Jacob let out a long breath, not wanting the image of her prowling for sex with a stranger rather than pouncing on him. This cat analogy was getting out of hand.
‘I can see the appeal of it, but no, it’s not my style. I prefer to know and respect my partners before I bed them.’ He’d never been able to understand his team mates who just wanted a convenient hole to sink their dicks into. Sex was far more satisfying when you took your time to get to know someone, and besides, being in a relationship meant more sex than the crazy chase for continuous one-night stands. It was a logical way to get more frequent sex, a simple way to approach the basic necessity of life.
‘Bully for you. I’ve tried relationships, and I suck at them.’ Rachel curled her upper lip, her eyes narrowing.
‘Perhaps you’ve been with the wrong people or had the wrong expectations.’
She poked him in the chest, and the sharp point of the connection seared him.
‘What does that mean? And since when have you been the expert on relationships? Allira tells me you’ve never been with one person for longer than a month.’
Jacob’s face heated. His sister’s love of gossip sent a cool shiver over the back of his neck. ‘Technically, she’s right, but each of those count as a relationship. In each case, we both knew what we wanted, and when the sex got boring, we moved on.’ As he said it he knew, instinctively, that sex with Rachel would never be boring. She challenged him on every level, even before they’d kissed, and now that he had her taste in his mouth, he wasn’t giving up until he had the whole of her. He wanted her spread wide for him, begging for him. The image made his already hard cock twitch in his jeans. Fucking hell. Any more of this and he’d spill just arguing with her, especially if she kept looking at him with her lips all reddened by his kiss, and her eyes glinting with defiance. Now he knew what her face looked like when lost to passion, he wanted it again and again.
‘That’s not a relationship. It’s just fucking without the bother of dating. You have no right to judge me on my choices when that’s your standard.’ Her hardened voice, and the truth in her words, stole his breath, and made him want to debate her points until she gave way to him. Either that, or until she rode him, her body in charge of his. He glanced down at her finger, still pushing against his breastbone.
The door burst open and Rachel leaped backwards, dropping her hand away from his chest. The pinpoint immediately felt ice cold from the lack of her touch. Hot and cold. Heat and ice. Rachel confused the heck out of him. He started to move towards the door when Allira walked in. Jacob stopped mid-stride, rocking back on his heels as he schooled his face from shock back to neutral.
‘Hey big brother, how are you? I hope you aren’t bothering my housemate.’
Rachel grinned, and he couldn’t help but admire the way she recovered outwardly, her face speedily transformed as though they hadn’t just been discussing sex. It gave her the upper hand over him. Guilt rolled through his gut at Allira’s assumption. Since when had she formed the opinion that he wasn’t to be trusted with women?
‘He wouldn’t dare.’ Rachel winked at him, sending a fresh wave of heat across his torso. Hell. The teasing was almost worse when they weren’t alone. He brushed his hand through his hair.
‘Good. I like her, Jacob. You keep your distance.’ Allira smiled a little. Oh, maybe she was teasing him, and it wasn’t about trust at all. Had he only assumed that because Allira’s opinion mattered to him?
Rachel’s own grin spread, her eyes twinkling with delight. Allira walked past them to the kitchen, apparently oblivious to the rapid glances between him and Rachel. He checked Allira was occupied in the kitchen, before he stalked the couple of strides over to Rachel and whispered in her ear.
‘You’ll keep.’
Her cheeks flushed, highlighting the freckles scattered on her nose, and he wanted to kiss each one. Allira called from the kitchen, ‘What did you bring for dinner?’
He leaped away from Rachel—damn that guilt—and called out to Allira, ‘Pad Thai, garlic prawns with noodles, Nasi Goreng, and Singapore noodles with beef and cashews.’
‘I hope you are hungry. Rachel, can you eat any of that?’ Allira asked.
‘Sure.’ Rachel’s voice came from very close behind him, and he clenched his teeth when she traced her finger up his spine, holding it between his shoulder blades where Allira couldn’t see. She pressed her fingers into the muscles either side of his spine, hard enough to make him want to lean back against her.
‘I eat everything, just in small volumes.’ Her voice vibrated against his back, and it took all his control not to twist around to see just how close she was. Jacob stepped away from her before she could taunt him more. Bloody hell, Rachel flitted between hot and cold. Did she want him or not? Right on the back of Allira’s assumptions about him too.
‘I’ll do it, Allira,’ he said.
Allira nodded, ‘Thanks. Do you two mind if I have a quick shower before we eat?’
‘It’s cool.’ They spoke in unison, and Allira’s gaze flicked between them both.
‘Are you sure nothing is going on here?’
Jacob bit his tongue and tried not to adjust his jeans. He wanted to ask Rachel the same question. She’d said she didn’t want a relationship with him, yet her actions told a different story..
‘Nothing is going on,’ Rachel said. Was that a shake he could hear in her voice? What kind of game was she playing with him?
Allira laughed. ‘He probably deserves to be toyed with, given the way he’s played with other women. I bet he’s finally met his match in you, Rachel.’
‘That’s not at all what I meant.’ Rachel blushed, bright red, as she spoke quickly, scrambling her words. He breathed in embracing the smug warmth her protest sent through his chest.
‘Well, could you two be civil to each other for ten minutes while I have a quick shower and wash away my day?’ Allira gave them both a pointed look, then strode up the stairs.
‘Civil?’ Rachel asked.
‘Truce?’ Jacob had spoken at the same time. They both grinned, and Rachel bit her bottom lip.
‘Yeah, truce. I don’t know what she thinks, but I don’t want a relationship right now.’
‘Is that why you are so hot and cold?’ Jacob asked, and even as the words came out, he knew he’d messed up their truce only seconds after agreeing on it.
She put her hands on her hips, ‘Trust a man to interpret it that way. Yes, you get a hot response from my body, but it doesn’t mean jackshit. My head knows what I want.’
‘Thus the cold part—whenever you think too hard …’
Her eyebrows damned near hit her hair, they raised up so high, ‘Thinking is good. It’ll save me from a decision I’ll regret. No relationships,’ she repeated, more firmly this time. Jacob ignored the twinge when she said she’d regret being with him, and instead wanted to point out that she touched him first.
‘How about later? Or maybe some non-relationship sex instead? You want it. Don’t deny that.’
Rachel rolled her eyes at him, and his chest expanded with ridiculous hope, or maybe that was just his cock.
‘I might—’ She coughed and shook her head quickly as if to get rid of whatever she almost blurted. ‘No, how about never? Allira’s right, you don’t want a relationship anyway. You just want to fuck me for a while,’ Rachel said. Jacob stepped forward, deliberately standing close to her.
‘You would enjoy it.’ He enjoyed the mixed emotions flashing over her face as she wrestled with wanting to say yes, and needing to say no. It probably made him a dickhead to enjoy her conflict.
She shoved him on the chest, her smile giving away her real thoughts, ‘Arrogant, much?’
‘It’s not arrogance when it’s the truth.’
‘Oh Christ on the fucking starship, cut the ego trip.’
He roared with laughter, ‘You can try to cut me down to your size, but it won’t work.’
‘Pound for pound, I’m stronger and faster than you.’ Rachel challenged him immediately without moving away from him. It would be so easy to wrap his arms around her and lift her up for another crushing kiss.
‘Is that a challenge?’
She tilted her head. ‘Yeah. If you can beat me, then you can kiss me.’
‘I’ve already kissed you, and you liked it. You’ll have to offer more than that … unless you don’t think you’ll win.’
‘I’ll win.’
Jacob leaned closer and whispered in her ear, ‘Or you’ll lose and then we’ll both win.’
‘Says you. Get your team trainer to set something up, quietly, on Sunday.’
‘Sunday.’
‘Yeah, in the morning, say about ten. It’s a quiet day for trackwork, and I’ll have a couple of hours before I have to drive to the races for the afternoon.’
‘A couple of hours? Are you working on Sunday?’
Rachel’s shoulder heaved as she breathed in. ‘I work every day. I’m self-employed and don’t get paid unless I work.’
‘That sucks. What about holidays?’
‘Racing is an entertainment industry. We work when everyone else is on holiday. Besides, it’s not that bad. Riding keeps me race fit, and things are quieter in the winter.’ Rachel didn’t seem bothered by her crazy workload.
‘How much work do you do exactly?’
She grinned, ‘Why? Are you worried that I’m fitter, and I’ll beat you?’
‘No.’ He scoffed, ‘Of course not. Even with a dodgy knee, I’ll still beat you. I’m curious, that’s all.’
She cracked her neck and walked away from him. ‘I ride trackwork in the mornings, from about five am through to eight, then I eat breakfast, and drive to the races. Usually the races go from lunchtime until the early evening, but sometimes if there are night races on at the Valley, I’ll ride at the country day meeting, then come to the city for a couple of rides at night. Those days can be quite long.’
He nodded. Her working hours seemed crazy to him.
She sighed, and flung her hands up in the air, ‘You see, I don’t have time for a relationship, anyway.’
‘You start at five?’ He ignored her comment about a relationship, not wanting to rehash the same old argument again.
‘Mate, that’s not early. The strappers, ground staff, begin at three am, and some of the track riders start early to do the first couple of sets of horses, but I’ve found I can’t sustain that and ride at my best during the day. Not with all the driving to different country meetings as well.’
‘Understandable.’ He blew out a loud breath, ‘Mate, three am is nuts. Why?’
‘The theory is that it’s cooler then, so the horses cope with exercise better, since they don’t heat up too much. It’s funny because racehorses are evolved from desert horses, and they handle a dry heat really well. I’m not a trainer, but if Shannon does it because it’s good for his horses, then I’m not going to argue with him. It’s rough on the staff though, especially when they have to go to a night meeting as well.’
‘Are you saying the horses’ needs come before the people?’
Rachel grinned and threw her hands up in front of her, ‘Of course I’m saying that. Everything in racing is done to keep the horses healthy and happy. An injured or unhappy horse isn’t going to try or run well. They live a five-star lifestyle with staff to tend their every need. They are athletes—you must get that.’
‘Of course, it makes sense. We spend a crazy amount of time on ensuring everyone in the team is at their peak, physically and mentally.’
‘Yeah, horses are athletes, the same as human athletes. They have the same needs, it’s just complicated because they can’t talk, but once you know them well enough, you know when they are right, and when they need something.’
‘Are you two still arguing?’ Allira came down the stairs, her hair all wet, with a big smile on her face.
Rachel laughed. ‘Good timing, Allira. Jacob was about to lecture me for working too hard.’
‘Spare me from feisty sisters and their housemates who work crazy hours to prove themselves.’ He grinned.
Allira shoved him on the shoulder. ‘One day you’ll understand.’
‘Yeah, one day, when I’m not swanning about living a life of luxury, being a professional athlete.’
Allira grinned, ‘Precisely.’
‘I was kidding. I might not get up at five am to go to work, but I’d argue I work as hard as either of you.’
‘I wouldn’t start that argument if I was you,’ Rachel butted into the conversation. ‘Both of us are only entertainers, using our bodies for people to cheer at. Your sister saves lives, that matters more.’
‘Stop it, you two. It’s not a competition.’ Allira’s cheeks flushed as she rolled her eyes. ‘Let’s eat.’
Jacob’s stomach rumbled at the mention of food. He’d been having so much fun teasing Rachel, he’d forgotten about the dinner he’d brought.
Jacob dished out the different meals onto plates and carried them to the table, while Rachel and Allira set out plates and cutlery. Rachel picked at the food, taking only tiny portions of a few types, although with plenty of vegetables.
‘Is that all you are going to eat?’ Jacob asked, as he piled up his plate.
‘This is normal, besides, I have a ride booked for Flemington on Saturday at 51.’
‘Fifty-one?’
Allira grinned, ‘She means kilograms. Don’t stress, Jacob, I’ve learned that it’s cheap to feed a jockey.’
‘Yeah, don’t worry about it. Plus, I’m short, even for a jockey, so I can eat far more than some of my colleagues.’
‘Seriously?’
‘It’s not a life that many people can deal with, but if I pay attention to my intake, and keep up my output, then I won’t have to waste for race day. And that’s when jockeys get into real strife.’
‘Waste?’ Allira spoke at the same time as he did.
‘It’s a bit old fashioned, really. Lots of jockeys still do it, because it’s a quick way to lose weight temporarily, but it’s not good for you in the long term. It’s better to maintain a stable weight.’
‘But?’
‘You want the gruesome details?’
‘Yes.’ Jacob saw Allira shake her head as he responded. He wanted to know what on earth Rachel was talking about. He’d assumed she was an athlete, yet this tiny eating didn’t align with his life.
‘The fastest way to lose weight is dehydration,’ Rachel said. ‘Put on a sweat suit, go running, or mow the lawn. Some jockeys drive to the races with the heater turned up high in their car, while wearing thermals, and three jumpers. You’ll lose a couple of kilograms that way, and you can drink water after the races.’
‘That’s not as bad as I was imagining.’
‘Yeah, it’s fine if you don’t do it often—I mean, I’d do it if I got a ride of a three year-old in the Cox Plate, because it’d be worth the stress.’
‘I won’t pretend to know what that means.’
Rachel chuckled, ‘Yeah, it’s unlikely anyway. Although I am a natural lightweight, so I guess there is a chance.’
‘But what if that doesn’t work?’ Allira said.
‘Some jockeys go to extreme lengths to get down to race weight, especially the taller ones, stuff like starving themselves, diuretics, laxatives …’
‘Wow—that’s terrible for your body.’
‘Yeah, and it’s also not that safe. I hate riding alongside someone who has been wasting lots, because they aren’t totally with it, you know. Their reflexes are too slow, and their decision making isn’t great. It’s an accident waiting to happen.’
‘Can anything be done about it?’
Rachel waggled her head side to side, ‘We are all drug tested, so the jockeys who take diuretics, and shit like methamphetamines get caught and can’t ride. Racing is getting better at looking after the jockeys too.’ She paused, then held up her hand as Jacob started to ask a question, ‘And before you say anything, yes, the horses are held in higher esteem and better looked after than the jockeys.’
‘I wasn’t going to ask that, we’ve already discussed that topic and I believe you. I was going to ask why you do it.’
‘What? Race ride?’
‘Yeah. It seems to affect your whole life, even restricting the joy of eating—’
‘The joy of eating? I enjoy eating. Just because I eat a lower volume than other people doesn’t mean I forgo taste. It’s just that I have to make every mouthful count.’
Jacob nodded, and from the corner of his eye, he caught Allira smirking.
‘You know me well enough that I wouldn’t condone an unhealthy diet in my house,’ Allira said.
Rachel smirked, lifting her eyebrows, ‘See, told ya so. Volume has nothing to do with taste. My body is healthy, perfectly fit for its job.’
He couldn’t help his gaze drift over her body, lingering on her breasts, a perfect handful size, easily discernible thanks to the tight singlet top she wore. He could even trace the lines of her bra. A thump on his arm made him blink.
‘Hey, stop ogling my housemate,’ Allira said.
He held up his hands in protest, ‘I’m—’
‘—totally checking me out.’ Rachel laughed, warm and rich, and the sound tugged at him, sending a wave of heat through his stomach and lower. He waggled his head side to side.
‘Leave her alone,’ Allira said.
‘Nah, it’s alright, Allira. He’s mostly harmless.’
He raised one eyebrow, ‘Mostly?’
‘Yeah, you know it.’
Allira’s head twisted back and forth between them, ‘What is going on?’ Every word had had a little pause between them.
‘Nothing,’ he said.
Rachel roared with laughter, ‘And that doesn’t sound guilty at all.’ She blew a hard breath out of the corner of her mouth, and shrugged, ‘Don’t worry, Allira. It’s mostly nothing. Nothing I can’t handle, that is.’
Did he imagine her gaze dropping to his groin for a micro second? No, surely not. Heat rushed up his spine and he swallowed away the sudden dryness in his mouth. She could handle him anytime she wanted. He leaned forward and picked up his plate, placing it on his lap and started to eat.
‘Ok. I could have sworn you two were flirting, but if it’s nothing …’
‘I’m helping him with a problem, that’s all.’
‘Oh, the betting thing? I thought you already knew it wasn’t kosher.’
Jacob stuffed food in his mouth so he didn’t have to respond.
‘No, we’ve only just unveiled the beginning of this mystery,’ Rachel said. A pop tune jangled from the kitchen, and Rachel leaped to her feet. ‘Oh, sorry, that’s my phone.’ She bounced, Jacob couldn’t think of a better way to describe the way she moved, towards the kitchen and answered. He tried not to listen, but when Rachel squealed, he abandoned his quest to ignore her, and just stared as a grin so big and wide threatened to split her face open.
‘Holy shit. Are you serious?’ she asked the caller. Her whole body jiggled and bounced as she started dancing in the kitchen. ‘Yeah, man. Thank you so much for that … Oh, really? Well, that’s awesome … I’ll do my absolute best … Yeah, yeah, I know. I’ll get right on it … Fuck, yeah, let’s beat them … Okay, see you Saturday.’ She hung up and squealed again. ‘Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, you won’t believe this. Holy fucking shitballs of awesome.’
‘What? What’s happened?’
‘Matthew got me the ride of Darnation in the Makybe Diva Stakes. I can’t believe it.’ Rachel shook out her hands and jumped up and down.
‘I take it that’s important?’ Allira asked.
‘Fuck yes. A Group One worth three quarters of a million, and on the favourite too. Oh man, this is the greatest opportunity.’
Allira stood up and hugged Rachel. Damn it, he had it bad with a capital B for Rachel if seeing her so enthusiastic made him happy. He rubbed his forehead.
‘Thanks. I know you don’t really understand …’
‘No, but it’s great to see you so happy,’ Allira said, stepped back with her hands still resting on Rachel’s shoulders. Rachel nodded, still smiling like the Cheshire Cat.
‘I’d better text Serena and tell her.’ She grabbed her phone and her thumbs flew over the screen, giving Jacob a breather to get his physical response to her excitement under control. Think about doing burpees or thigh reps, or horrible old Mr Jackson at high school. There, that always worked. He picked up his plate again and continued eating.
‘Hey, you guys should come to the races and watch on Saturday. I mean, I’ll be working, so I can’t show you around, but if you get a bunch of public tickets, I can meet you after the races and catch up. Plus, you get to watch me ride.’ Rachel waved her arms around, moving rapidly as though she couldn’t contain the energy flowing in her body.
‘Sounds like a plan. Our semi-final is on Friday night, and as The Palace says, if we win we’ll be celebrating on Saturday and if we lose, we’ll need to commiserate.’
‘You’ll win. I’ll win. We’ll all win.’ Rachel punched the air, and he laughed. Her enthusiasm was catching.
‘Can you organise enough tickets for my whole team?’ he asked.
She shrugged, more of twitch really, ‘Sure, I don’t see why not. Allira?’
‘I’ll check my calendar. I think I switch to nights on Friday, so I’ll probably be sleeping.’
‘Oh bugger, that’s a shame.’
‘Not really. I don’t particularly want to spend all day with Jacob and his drunken team mates,’ Allira smiled.
‘They aren’t that bad.’
‘Aren’t they?’ Allira asked.
Jacob rolled his eyes, ‘You’ve never bothered to come and meet them. What did Dad say about making assumptions about people?’
‘I don’t need to meet them. I’ve heard enough stories from you to know they aren’t my kind of people.’
‘Hey, hey, you two,’ Rachel called out, and Jacob turned in his seat to face her.
‘What?’ Allira asked.
‘You are bickering.’
‘Siblings do that, it’s perfectly normal. Unless you don’t argue with yours?’
Rachel laughed, a full body chuckle, her shoulders shaking, ‘True. I argue with mine all the time.’
‘Well, you can’t taunt me into spending the day with your team, Jacob. You know how I feel about alcohol.’
‘That one is fine, but any more and people start doing dumb things that require you to stitch them back together?’ He’d heard her say it often enough.
‘Precisely. I just couldn’t spend a day with people getting drunk on purpose and not be a buzzkill about it. And before you say it, working in the pub is fine because I can watch people as they leave and make sure they’ll be okay.’ Allira sighed. Rachel slung her arm around Allira’s shoulders, needing to stretch up on tiptoes to do it.
‘I’m with you. Let the boys get drunk, I’ll ride some winners, and hopefully even the big one, and we can have a quiet glass of bubbles here together the next day.’
‘Now that’s a plan.’ Allira visibly relaxed. Jacob’s hand prickled with a sudden protectiveness. Was there more to Allira’s unwillingness to be in a crowd?
‘You can stop right there, Jacob,’ she said as if on cue, and Rachel frowned at them both.
‘What?’
‘I can see you worrying about me. There is nothing wrong with not liking crowds. There doesn’t have to be a reason for it, apart from being mostly introverted. Crowds are stressful to me, they take a lot of energy, nothing else.’
‘Okay.’
‘Leave it, Jacob. Not everyone likes to perform.’ Rachel shifted away from Allira, who sat down again.
‘Perform?’
‘Yeah. Both of us are entertainers. Admit it, you love it when the crowd roars for you,’ Rachel said.
He nodded. He did love that feeling when he kicked a goal and crowd went wild. Every single time, it would send shivers down his spine, and he wanted to do it again and again. He would get old and sore before that sensation got boring.
‘And you?’
She waggled her head, ‘It’s different. I do it for the thrill of going fast. You can’t really hear the crowd when you are on a horse. I feel the rhythm of the horse under me, I can hear the other jockeys yelling, the swish of the whips in the air as everyone tries to find the gaps and push through. The crowd noise is just background, although I’ve never ridden on one of the big days. I bet it’d be amazing to ride down the long straight at Flemington on the first lap of the Cup with a hundred thousand people yelling.’
‘I hope you get to experience that one day,’ Allira said. ‘You guys should eat before it gets cold.’
Rachel glanced down at the coffee table, then flicked a smile his way. ‘I reckon Jacob has eaten most of it already.’
‘Hey.’ He protested. He hadn’t eaten everything. ‘There is heaps left.’
‘I’m teasing. It’s fine. Thank you for bringing dinner.’
‘Yes, thank you,’ Allira said.
‘Well, I’ll leave you two alone. I need to call my brother and sort out what he’s doing with Tsuyoi Red.’ Rachel bounded up the stairs, her phone in one hand. Jacob stared after her.
‘Keep your eyes off her arse,’ Allira said.
He blinked, ‘What?’
‘I’ve seen the way you look at her, Jacob. She needs a bit of space, not you lusting after her.’
He swallowed, ‘We’ve already discussed it. I know her boundaries.’ Better than he wanted to. His only hope to get another kiss was to best her in the physical challenge, and the idea of getting sweaty beside her in their team gym was darn hot.
‘Good.’
‘You don’t need to be her guard dog.’
Allira frowned at him, ‘I’m not. But you didn’t see her that night. She’s more fragile than she shows.’
‘I’ve already committed to keeping my distance. I don’t know what else you want from me.’
‘Not to pant after her?’
‘I don’t …’ he started, and Allira’s eyebrows reached up high on her forehead. ‘Okay, I look, but it’s just looking, damn it. I’m only human.’
‘Typical man, you mean.’
He coughed, ‘And you don’t use your eyes when someone hot is around?’
‘Yeah, alright. But keep your hands off her.’
‘I promise to do as she asks.’ Jacob couldn’t promise not to touch Rachel, not if she asked, but he could promise to wait until she was ready.
‘Guard dog,’ he teased.
Allira shook her head, ‘Someone has to do it.’ Her smile told him everything was cool between them. He had to keep reminding himself that she was all grown up, not the eight-year-old kid that she was when he left home. It didn’t seem to matter that the evidence was all there, one part of him could never seem to let go of his natural big brother protective instincts.