Page 58 of Catching Sparks

“Let Eliza feed you before somethin’ before you go. She’s been bakin’ cookies since before I woke up, mutterin’ something about a new recipe keepin’ her up.”

Poppy salutes him and then crosses the distance to me and Kip. Wade flashes me a warning look before leaving the stable, his boots kicking up hay and dust.

I relax when he’s out of view, leaving Poppy and me alone with only Kip witnessing our awkward silence. She strokes his neck, and he leans into her touch immediately, already comfortable with her. My chest softens.

“Have you really never ridden a horse before? I thought rich people loved to ride horses and all that jazz,” she says, breaking the silence.

Our eyes meet over Kip’s shoulder, hers so clear and open. She asks questions about me without judgment, just genuine curiosity. My hackles don’t rise in her presence, almost as if I . . . trust her.

“I didn’t grow up wealthy. That came after my father made and released his first single. I was fourteen at that time,” I say.

“What was the song called? I don’t think I’ve ever heard your father’s music.”

“You probably wouldn’t have. His career as an artist consisted of a single hit song and then an album that made pennies in comparison. He attempted to release another record that succeeded as well as that single did but couldn’t ever get there. There was no market for the genre of music he wanted to create, but he lacked the knowledge then that we have now.”

Kip whinnies again, and I scratch his neck, continuing to stare at Poppy. I don’t know why I expect her to show some sort of judgment for what I’ve told her, but there’s nothing there but a warm calm in her eyes that encourages me to continue speaking.

“The single paid well, and Reggie invested the money well for years before throwing it into creating Swift Edge Records. He told me it was a graduation present. That once I graduated university with my BA in business, the company was mine. We share fifty-fifty ownership, but he only ever wanted to help create music. Everything else was up to me, and I love what I do.”

Even the early mornings and late evenings. Board meetings and phone calls. The power that comes with running a business that employees hundreds of people and has plowed through its anticipated potential. I’ve met thousands of celebrities, made billions of dollars, and created a name for myself that carries a heavy weight in the music industry.

She sucks on her teeth. “Let me get this straight. Your father bought you an entire company for a graduation present? I thought . . .”

I laugh stiffly. “You thought that we hated each other. It doesn’t make sense for him to do something so grand for me, right?”

“Not exactly that. I’ve just heard that you two aren’t exactly close,” she corrects me, although her wince contradicts her words.

“We weren’t always the way we are now.”

“What happened?” she asks, voice so soft and gentle that I nearly tell her. And that petrifies me.

I close the door on the conversation, swallowing the emotion in my throat. “How do I get on Kip’s back?”

A pause, and then she says, “Do you want to watch me do it first?”

“Is it that difficult?”

“You’re much taller than me, so you will most likely have an easier time than I will. But you can see the proper way to grip his reins and swing your body,” she explains.

Slowly, I bring my gaze back to hers, inhaling sharply at her encouraging smile. I wasn’t expecting to find such understanding in her expression. It’s obvious that Anna would have told her best friend more about me than I have, even just now, so she has to know the dynamic Reggie and I have. Both her and Brody have born witness to it. So, her lack of judgment doesn’t make sense.

I’m always the bad guy in this situation. Never my father. But right now, I don’t feel like a villain. I couldn’t feel further from one.

“Show me,” I rasp, my weak tone betraying me. “Please.”

Poppy smiles, coming to stand at my side. Her arm brushes mine, the rolled-up sleeves of her sweatshirt exposing her smooth, warm skin. She grabs Kip’s reins in her hand and tucks her pink-booted foot into the stirrup, as Wade called it. I back up a step and watch her bounce on her opposite leg twice before bearing down on the stirrup and swinging the leg up and over Kip’s tall body. She huffs a breath once she’s seated on his back, her thick thighs cupping his sides in a way I shouldn’t be jealous of but fucking am. I want those thighs pressed to my cheeks, squishing me harder with every stroke of my tongue over her clit?—

“Stop looking at me like that in here, Garrison,” she chastises.

I snap out of my thoughts and clear my throat. Poppy’s eyes are at half-mast, tongue wetting her lips while her cheeks turn pink. My cock is hard between my legs, heavy and throbbing at that expression. It would be reckless to fuck her here in the middle of the morning where anyone could walk by and see. But I want to.

“Then get down from there and let me try and swing up on him,” I grit out, unable to help myself as I set my hand on her calf and press my fingers into the denim there.

“Gotta remove your hand first,” she mutters, eyes drawn to where I’m touching her, my palm sliding up her leg to rest on her bent knee.

I don’t want to drop my hand. To step back and give her the room to dismount. I’m liking the close proximity, the feel of her beneath my fingers. I like it too damn much.

The reminder has me staggering back, my palm cold as it drops to my side. I don’t watch her swing off Kip because if I did, I don’t trust that I wouldn’t be there lifting my arms to catch her.

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