She clutched her ticket and peered over the gate, cursing her wimpy five feet. Before she realized, Steve hauled her up and onto his shoulders. A squeal escaped her mouth. “I’m too heavy for you. Ah!” She frantically gripped at his shoulders for balance while the guys broke into laughter. The people surrounding them gave a cheer.
“Are you kidding? You’re light as a feather. See, now you can see the horses.”
Gen relaxed a bit. He was right. It was actually kind of cool; she’d never been on a guy’s shoulders before. The stream of horses pranced in front, bodies gleaming, heads tossing, and then were guided into their separate gates. All of a sudden, there was a buzz and the announcer screamed over the speakers, “And they’re off!”
She never knew a race could be so long. She never knew a race could be so short. The horses flew around the track at a rapid pace, dirt flying up from their hooves, jockeys leaning over, the pace punishing and brutal as they fought each other for space.
Disappointed Dreamer was dead last. The number one horse—Rapid Rose—held the lead, keeping tight to the rail. The crowd screamed different names out loud, gazes pinned to the field of ten, and slowly, ever so slowly, the number four began to inch his way toward the middle.
The scarlet uniform stood out boldly among the jockeys. Head tucked, legs a blur, the rider made up ground in rapid time, and they neared the finish line. Other horses dropped one by one, with Rapid Rose still holding the lead, but Disappointed Dreamer hit his stride and closed in so fast Gen couldn’t believe it was possible.
She yelled so loud her throat hurt, and Steve bounced up and down, so she grasped his head to make sure she didn’t topple. And then number four was neck and neck with number one, and they battled for two long, long seconds.
Disappointed Dreamer crossed the finish line a few noses ahead.
Steve reached up and easily plucked her from his shoulders. The moment her feet hit the ground she danced like a crazy person. Her heart raced and her palms sweat and raw adrenaline pumped through her system. The photo finish was quickly resolved. It was official.
“Holy crap, you made over two grand!” Tom said, shaking his head. “What a race.”
“We won, we won,” she screeched, hugging Ed. “I told you I had a feeling.”
Suddenly, a cold voice broke through the revelry, making her stop and freeze.
“What the hell is going on?”
She jerked around and stared into a pair of icy blue eyes.
Uh-oh. Now she had another feeling.
She was in trouble.
Eight
IF THERE WAS one thing he lived as his motto, it was “Be cool.”
Not much rattled him anymore. After a brutal past and hard journey to get where he was, Wolfe decided he was pretty much done with all those highs and lows of emotion. That’s why he did better with women for the short term. He didn’t have a jealous bone in his body. And he might get a bit irritated at work, but nothing really moved him to show actual anger.
Until now.
He was about to pound on Pretty Boy’s face and he had no idea why.
She’d been on his fucking shoulders. With her crotch jammed in his neck. The tight threesome seemed quite enchanted with her win—not to mention he was a bit amazed at the four horse himself—but it was the expression on her face that made him want to go apeshit.
Happy. For the first time in a long time, she looked happy.
And it wasn’t because of him.
Now, where had that weird stuff come from? Wolfe narrowed his gaze as the college dudes looked at each other nervously and took a step back. Before David, Wolfe had been known to double-date with Gen and speak briefly about their other relationships. They’d agreed on the rules beforehand. No crazy sex stories. Sure, he liked to tease her, but they were usually made up to get a rise out of her. They stuck with minor details, some emotion, and a lot of humor. After David, she began to clam up fast, and he’d lost her within the year. It hurt, and he was pissed, but he kept telling himself if she was happy, it was his duty to swallow the disappointment. He just usually . . . missed her. But not in an unkempt, raw type of way.
Right now? Yeah, not so much.
He had no time to ponder or question the strange mess bubbling up inside. Gen rolled her eyes. “Wolfe, you’re scaring them.” She jerked her head toward him and spoke to her crew. “Wolfe’s not my boyfriend, just a friend. You’re not gonna get body slammed. This is Ed, Tom, and Steve.”
The dudes relaxed and tried to do that friendly bonding ritual, but he remained cold. Gen was vulnerable, and he wasn’t about to have her played by some guys on a weekend to get laid. One of the guys raised a hand but didn’t come forward. “Hey. Nice to meet you.”
Gen’s navy blue eyes actually sparkled. Damn, she was pretty. He’d forgotten the old Gen and her bubbly personality. She loved practical jokes, bawdy humor¸ and having fun. A pang pierced him deep. He’d really lost her these past two years. Only now he was beginning to realize she had just been a ghost of her former self.
“Got nervous when I couldn’t find you. Thanks for keeping an eye on her.” He nodded at the guys and motioned her forward. “Let’s cash that ticket of yours.”
She bounced toward him, grabbed his hand, and spoke to her admirers. “Ed also won, so we should go together. Hey, why don’t you join us? Wolfe got a picnic table, and you can help me with the next race.”
Irritation flowed freely, but their enthusiastic reply cut him off.
“Thanks, that sounds great!” Ed announced.
Steve and Tom heartily agreed. “Maybe some of your beginner’s luck will rub off on us.”