Perfect Secret by Molly McLain

Chapter 17

HOLDEN

The next week flies by in a blur. Between busting my ass at the Roman Wilde Ranch and spending my evenings loving on Alana, I haven’t had a spare minute to myself. Don’t get me wrong—I’m not complaining. Keeping busy has kept my mind off the ABR, but it’s also kept me from sitting down and taking a deeper look at my finances.

Wilder drove over to Magnolia Blue midweek to meet with Sandy and Grady Jackson from DreamBig Real Estate. He said things went well, but Grady had to gather some more information before he could give Sandy a confident appraisal.

Obviously, I know these things take time, but I’m chomping at the bit. I want to know exactly what I’m looking at before I let myself get too excited about it. And I want to be prepared to move fast when the numbers do come in, because if I can afford the Magnolia Blue, then I need to make Sandy an offer before someone else does.

So, that’s why I’m sitting alone in the stable on Friday, keeping out of the sun while I mull over my thoughts and nosh on a sandwich. My phone vibrates in my pocket and I smile. Probably Alana wanting to confirm our plans for drinks and dancing at Pony Up tonight. Only it’s not her name on the screen—it’s Cory’s.

Cory, who hasn’t so much as texted or called once since I’ve been in Mason Creek, despite connecting me with the place.

“If you’re trying to sell me something, it better be beer,” I say by way of greeting.

Cory snorts. “I’m more likely to peddle whiskey, but if you need beer, I can hook you up.”

I make a throaty sound at the same time Diego, Levi’s pride and joy Palomino, whinnies in the stall behind me.

“You out at Wilder’s?”

“As if I’d be anywhere else.” Other than Alana’s, that is. Which I’d tell him about if I wasn’t so irritated with his ghost act these past few weeks.

“Don’t get salty with me. I’m the one who got you the gig, remember?” He laughs and I roll my head from side to side, trying to snap the tension.

Yeah, he got me here, and he was right about Mason Creek taking my mind off the ABR. But he was supposed to be my insider, too. He was supposed to find out what the hell was going on, so I’d have ammunition with CJ. Apparently he forgot about that part of our conversation.

“How’s the circuit?” I sneer, the sarcasm in my tone is thicker than I intended, but fuck it. I don’t give a shit if I sound bitter, because I fucking am bitter.

“Same old, same old. Took second in Vegas last weekend. Friggin’ Marciano drew Atlas, so of course, he came out on top. Lucky fucker always gets the easy bulls.”

I grunt. Lucas Marciano is one hell of a rider, but he’s also one of the cockiest pricks in the ABR. He and Cory have gone back and forth in points all season, and as much as I’d like to see Marciano taken down a notch, I don’t know if Cory has it in him this year.

“Have you heard anything from CJ about coming back?” my buddy asks.

“Not since he called to tell me there’d been another assault.”

Cory sighs. “Yeah. I heard Vickie got roughed up. I haven’t seen her, but Heidi said she went home to California. You probably knew that, though.”

I frown. “Why would I know that?”

“You and Vickie. You’ve got that thing going…”

“Bro, I know you’ve been busy screwing around with Heidi, but you need to pay more attention. Vickie and I haven’t so much as carried on as much as a two-minute conversation since last fall.”

“You don’t need to talk to fuck, man.”

He’s lucky he’s not standing in front of me right now or I’d punch him in the face, solely on account of being such a dumbass.

“Anyway…” he continues on. “Things have been quiet. I was hoping that meant CJ would give you the green light.”

I shake my head, almost as resigned as I am irritated. “Nope. Haven’t heard a word and I’m not sure I’d jump if he called anyway.”

“What do you mean?” Cory asks.

“I mean I’m pissed. This whole situation is bullshit and I’m done taking it up the ass for no good reason. I’m about ready to tell the ABR to—”

“Don’t, dude. Don’t let this get to your head and make you say or do something you’ll regret. How many times have we talked about rising to the top together?”

I grimace. Yeah, we had plans to kick ass and take names and for the most part, we’ve done it. But do I really give a shit about being on top of an organization that doesn’t give a shit about me?

“I don’t know, man.” I take off my Stetson and push a hand through my hair. “I don’t know what the hell I’m gonna do.”

“Just keep doing what you’re doing in Mason Creek. The press is dying down and this will get sorted out before you know it.”

Maybe, maybe not. And do I even care?

“Listen, I called because I’m hoping you’ll ride with me in the rodeo Labor Day weekend. Since you’re there and all.”

“You’re coming to Mason Creek?”

“Yeah. It’s been a while and my mom’s been on my ass about it. I also have some personal shit to take care of, so I figured why not?”

I nod. “Yeah, I’ve heard your mom raising hell on the other end of the phone before.”

He laughs.

“But I’m not sure me riding is a good idea. I’m here to lie low and not draw attention, remember?”

“Eh. The rodeo is still a week away and a lot could happen in seven days. Who knows? Maybe CJ will call.”

Yeah, well, CJ can blow me.

“I’ve already told the committee I’m coming and that I might bring a friend. The spot is yours if you want it.”

I’m not going to lie—the thought of riding again has my hands flexing and my heart racing. I haven’t touched a rope in weeks and the prospect of hearing that horn sound and seeing that gate open is tempting.

And even though Alana isn’t a fan of bull riding, part of me wants to show her what I can do. Even if I walk away from the pro circuit, I’m always going to be a bull rider and I want to show her that not all of us are assholes. She’d just ridden the wrong cowboy.

“I’ll think about it,” I finally say, though the idea grows more appealing by the second. If I’m going to leave the ABR, why the hell should I keep hiding?

“You do that. In the meantime, don’t do anything stupid.”

“Not making any promises.”

He starts to say something else, but Wilder strolls into the stable, pointing at his watch.

“Sorry, man, but I gotta go.” I don’t bother waiting for a goodbye before I disconnect the call and get back to work.

ALANA

“Cleanup needed in aisle four,” Susie says when I emerge from my office just after noon. My head is throbbing from crunching numbers all morning and I’m in desperate need of a break and a gigantic cup of coffee.

“Where’s Pete?” I glance toward the cash registers through aching, squinted eyes.

“Helping Nancy move things around in the deli cooler.”

“Well, he can stop doing that for a few minutes and get the mess cleaned up. What is it anyway?”

“Coconut oil. Granny Char dropped not one, but two of the bulk-sized jars.”

Jesus. I don’t even want to think about why the dirty old lady is buying coconut oil. “Well, tell Pete to use some Dawn on the floor, too. We don’t need that tile getting slick.”

Susie’s eyes widen and I know she’s wondering why I’m not rushing to aisle four to do the cleanup myself like I normally would.

“My brain hurts from all of the math I just did,” I explain. “And I need to run to the bank.”

She nods. “Go and get some air.”

“I think I will. Hold down the fort while I’m gone.”

“You got it, boss.” Susie touches two fingers to her forehead and I give a silent laugh. An actual one would hurt too much.

Fifteen minutes later, with the banking complete, I head across the town square and straight to Java Jitters like my life depends on it.

“I’ll take the biggest, strongest cup of coffee you have,” I tell Jessie as greeting.

My friend and also the owner of the quaint little shop smiles sympathetically. “Bad day, huh?”

“I was mathing,” I explain, and she gives a resolute nod.

“Say no more.” She goes to work behind the counter and hands over a huge iced coffee a minute later. “It’s too hot for a regular cup and I know you like the iced stuff better anyway.”

“I love you.” My lips connect with the straw and I moan as the cool liquid hits my tongue.

Jessie laughs. “Do you need a moment? Maybe someplace private?”

I take another long drink and sigh. “Nah, I’m good now. But this is orgasmic.”

“Like the one you had down by the creek last Friday night?”

My shoulders snap back at the familiar voice behind me.

“Don’t worry, honey. No one but Hazel and I saw.”

My face bursts into flames and it takes everything I have in me to turn to Hattie Jackson and not crumble into a pile of ash at her feet.

Her knowing smile stretches a little wider when our eyes meet and I know. I just know she saw it all.

“I’m so happy for you.” The older woman reaches out and pats my arm. “He seems like such a nice young man. And he’s built well, too, if you know what I mean.”

Dear God, if you’re listening, please take me now. Right here in the middle of the coffee shop. I’m ready to go.

“For what it’s worth, Hazel and I debated long and hard—no pun intended—about whether or not we should tell Tate. And we almost decided that your privacy was more important. Until we realized that you clearly didn’t care about privacy when you decided to mount your stallion right there for anyone to see.”

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. I clench my eyes shut and rub at my forehead. “When did you tell her?”

“Just this morning.”

Which means the story could go live any minute now. Great. Just freaking great.

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, honey. In fact, I’m pretty sure everyone in town is going to be over the moon, knowing you’re finally over that Mitchell boy. We just want you to be happy, sweetheart.”

Uh huh, sure. Also, I am certain that not everyone is going to be as thrilled as she thinks they’ll be. Namely my father and Aiden.

“Anyway, I just wanted you to know.” Hattie gives my arm a gentle squeeze and turns on the heels of her Mary Jane’s before heading out of the coffee shop like her sole purpose was to follow me inside and drop her bomb.

“If it’s any consolation, Tate already posted today,” Jessie speaks up behind me. “So, you’re probably safe until tomorrow.”

Well, at least there’s that.

* * *

The Jackson sisters caught us at the creek last week. They saw it all, I text Holden when I get back to the market. He mentioned something about starting an addition on one of the barns today, so I’m not surprised that it takes him a couple of hours to reply.

Hot damn. Well, I hope they’d enjoyed the show.

Holden Daniel! They saw us having sex!

Darlin’, we were dressed. They couldn’t have seen much.

I groan, practically hearing the amusement in his words. According to Hattie, you’re a stallion, so I wouldn’t be so sure about that.

My phone rings a second later.

“She said I was hung?” Holden laughs as soon as I click onto the call. “I mean, I can think of worse rumors to be spread.”

“Oh my god, stop.” I can’t help but laugh, too. “My brother is going to hear about this. And my dad.”

“Eh. Your dad likes me.”

“Only for twenty more hours until Tate tells all of Mason Creek just how neighborly I’ve been.”

He snorts. “You did put together one hell of a welcome package, I’ll give you that.”

“Holden!”

“Sorry!” Only, he starts laughing all over again, completely contradicting himself. “Babe, it’s going to be fine.”

Uh huh. At least the shock made my heart beat so fast that my headache went away in record time.

“We’re still on for tonight, right? I can’t wait to twirl you around the dance floor.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose and sigh. “Yes, we’re still on. In fact, we should make the most of tonight, because I’m going into hiding as soon as Tate’s story goes live.”

“That doesn’t sound like such a horrible situation, either. The two of us holed up together for a few days…”

I roll my eyes at his playful insinuation. “I have to get back to work.”

“Yep, me too. Can’t wait to show you off tonight, darlin’.”