Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 84982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
“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.