Page 217 of Beautiful Collide

Don’t push her, Hudson.

She’s not sold.

That’s fine. She will be soon.

Gracie is a large horse, so I can understand being unsure, but she’s by far the gentlest horse I’ve ever known.

“I don’t know about this,” she admits.

I move closer to her. “You don’t have to ride her.” I keep my tone easy. “We can just hang out here. We can just feed her carrots.”

Telling her this is a calculated move. I know she will ride her, but I also know she needs to know she has a way out.Just in case.

This will give her the control she craves.

Molly shifts her weight, glancing back at Gracie.

I think she’s going to say forget it.Which is fine.

But then she squares her shoulders and straightens her spine, and I know she’s ready.Good girl. Be as strong as I know you can be.

I keep my exterior expressionless. I don’t want to piss her off. That won’t bode well for my plan. Molly is liable to say “fuck it” and leave if I do that.

“Fine, I’ll at least feed her.” Her voice is still quiet, but her determination is peeking out.

I can’t help but smile.

There it is.

That spark.

She’s amazing, and the crazy part is she doesn’t see it.

She will.

I’ll make her.

“All right,” I say, keeping my tone warm. “Let’s take it slow.”

I grab a carrot from the nearby bucket and hold it out to her. “Hold it flat in your palm like this,” I say, demonstrating.

Her fingers brush mine as she takes the carrot, and for a second, that tiny touch sends a flicker of warmth through me.

Focus, man. This is about her, not you.

When she mimics my gesture, I guide her hand toward Gracie’s mouth.

Gracie takes the carrot gently from Molly’s palm. Thank fuck too. One never knows how Gracie will react if she’s hungry. While she would never hurt anyone, she gets pretty excited to eat. She’s liable to snatch the carrot the way a hungry child might grab a candy bar at a chocolate shop.

“See? She likes you,” I tell her.

“Well, I don’t know if I like her yet,” Molly mutters. “Not enough to ride her.”

I narrow my eyes and tilt my head down. “Hex . . .”

“Saying my nickname won’t get me on the horse any faster.” She presses her lips into a thin line. She’s not pissed, though, just pretending to be.

That’s the Hex I know.

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