CHAPTER ONE
RIKER
I fucking hate my life. Really. Fucking. Hate. It. I’m pretty sure the only reason I’m even still here is because no one else is left to live it. It’s not even my life anymore. Just pieces of everyone else’s. Shit they left behind that couldn’t be sold or handed off to strangers. Responsibilities. Land that’s been in this family for generations. And that motherfucking horse. Nox.
He was my grandfather’s pride and joy. Pretty damn sure he loved that horse more than he loved any of us. Although I don’t see why. That four-legged asshole has done nothing but cause problems for the ranch since my grandfather’s been gone. Three years now, he’s been busting through fences, tearing up stalls, and scaring off pretty much anyone who’s willing to get close enough to feed him. Which leaves me. But it’s all good. In the grand scheme of things, Nox is but a minor listing on the billboard of reasons I fucking hate my life.
QUINN
I glance down at my black leather boots. They’re not faring well in the muck and mud, but after last night’s rain, I expected as much. Once upon a time, I had proper clothes for this stuff. These days, however, most of my wardrobe consists of skinny jeans and ballet flats. And I’m not complaining. I’m just not prepared. But then how prepared do I need to be today? It’s my niece’s birthday party, and even though she’s about to get up on a horse, it’s not likely I’ll be getting anywhere near one. Still, I wish I had my old boots.
“This was a great idea, Kirsten. I think the kids are having a blast.” I take my seat next to the other moms on the bench outside the riding arena. Automatically, I scan their footwear, then smile internally. At least I still knew better than to wear opened toe sandals.
My sister’s friend, C.J., leans forward to see past the two moms sitting between her and Kirsten. “Sophie is doing awesome. Is this her first time on a pony?”
Kristen smiles. “It sure is. And no shocker there. Look at who her aunt is.” She gently nudges me in the ribs. “Sophie was probably born with some sort of special pony DNA.”
I laugh. “Are you implying your child is part pony? And that she inherited this pony-part from me?”
“Maybe not a pony gene, just your pony sense.” She’s grinning. She’s the only one who’s been around long enough to remember.
C.J. cocks an arched brow in my direction. “You ride, Quinn?”
“Used to.” Another lifetime ago.
C.J. shrugs. “I didn’t know that.” And it’s clearly really bugging her. C.J. likes to be in the know. And we all like it when she is, because she spreads “the know” around. In a totally “non-gossipy, just informing every one of the current events like I’m a newscaster and it’s my job” sort of way. And really, where would we be without the news? Especially since I’ve only just moved here. Meeting C.J. has really gone a long way in getting to know everyone else. Even if I haven’t actuallymeteveryone else yet.
Right now she’s staring back and forth between my sister and I, shaking her head, and I can’t tell if it’s because she’s so distraught over having been left in the dark about my little riding habit or if we’ve done something else to offend her. It’s possible. I love C.J. and all, but that girl is high maintenance.
“Sometimes I really don’t see how the two of you are even sisters,” she says.
Ah. That thing. Yeah. We knew about that too. Which is why Kirsten whips back her long, perfect, platinum-blonde curls and laughs while I tuck a strand of my dirty-blonde waves carelessly behind my ear and offer up an awkward smirk. It’s the best I can do sitting next to life-size Barbie.
Feeling properly motivated to move this conversation along, I point out the six girls straight ahead, just bobbing along on their ponies. Well, they’re horses. But everyone here’s been calling them ponies and I don’t want to be the asshole who corrects them now.
“Anyway, how long are they going to make the girls just walk around in circles? I mean, this is a lesson, right? They should be teaching them stuff.”
Kirsten gives me a look, and I know I’m annoying her already. I do it a lot. But today it’s in record time, and I feel all at once slightedandimpressed with myself.
“They’re only five, Quinn. They’re stoked just to be up on a pony.”
And now I kindadowant to correct her. But I won’t.
“I’m just saying. You paid for a lesson. A lesson implies learning stuff,” I grumble as I slide off the bench. As much as I’m trying, I still don’t fit in with Kirsten and her friends the way she’d like me to. I don’t really know what she thought would be so different this time around. We certainly never hung around with the same crowd when we were kids.
Even with the age difference meaning less now at twenty-two and twenty-seven, we still couldn’t be less alike. If anything, the last three years have probably put more distance between us than ever. But I know Kirsten, and she’ll never accept that. She needs us to be close. She needs us to be perfect and sisterly. Because she’s perfect. Only I’m so far from it, perfect looks like a speck of dust from where I’mstanding.
I overhear C.J. make a comment about my sudden exit, but I don’t turn around. Instead, I head toward the barn to try and absorb some of the scents. Maybe if I just stand inside an empty stall for a while and then don’t shower for a couple of days, I can pretend my life hasn’t turned into the shithole it is. I realize, of course, Kirsten would never let me stink up her house like that—not with horse or myself. So this very moment is an act of playing pretend already, but I’m getting good at that. Playing pretend. It’s my thing. I’m the Master of It.
Rounding the corner to the front of the structure, I’m suddenly face-to-face with a riderless horse running straight at me in a full gallop. Without even thinking, I stretch out my arms and step directly into its path.
“Whoa. Whoa, now.” It’s the most gorgeous Friesian stallion I’ve ever seen, and he slides to a stop just a few feet in front of me. Double-checking to make sure I’m right about this boy business, I take a step toward him. He shies away, backing up, and I can tell he’s seriously considering bolting again. “Easy, boy. It’s okay. You’re okay.” Keeping my eyes averted as I walk slightly sideways, I continue to approach him until I’m standing at his side. “There you go. That’s a good boy.” Careful not to startle him again, I slowly brush my hand along his neck, then pat him gently before grasping a handful of his mane near the withers. Considering he’s not wearing a halter or a bridle, there isn’t much else I can hold onto right now, and letting him roam the property while kids are present doesn’t seem like the most excellent idea. Of course, now that I’ve got him by his mane, I’m not really sure what to do next.
“Nox. Yousonofabi—oh.”
I turn toward the deep voice and realize I’m standing face-to-face with the second most gorgeous thing I’ve seen today. Except while the first one was scared, this one looks pissed.
“I take it this guy is with you?” I walk toward him, clicking my tongue to let my new horse boyfriend know we’re moving.