Page 81 of Headed for Home

“You should call the whole thing off.” Her chin lifts to my phone.

“That doesn’t make any sense.” Yet I palm the device.

The loud roar of an engine slices into our country quiet. An unmistakable black truck barrels up my driveway as if there’s an emergency. Dust plumes in thick clouds from the speed. Brenda pauses her attempts to ride Leita, bringing the horse to a stop near us. We watch the interruption approach and slam to a halt next to the arena.

Drake flings open his door, waving erratically while stomping our way. “Stop the sale!”

My mouth drops. “What…? How did you know when she was coming?”

I hadn’t told him, especially after his reaction at the baseball field. As if I needed another voice of reason against selling. But the days have passed without mention. Drake seemed to have forgotten, or he didn’t care. A huff escapes me. I’m clearly missing something.

Paisley’s smile is too smug. “I texted him.”

My gaze rips off Drake to glare at my cousin. “When did you get his number?”

“Easy there, death stare. I used your phone.” Her grin tips higher.

“No, I would’ve—” But a glance at my screen confirms her method of deception.

“I can’t let you do this, beauty.” Drake is beside me, cradling my cheek in his hand. “That horse is meant for you.”

A sharp refusal shakes my head. “We’ve been over this. Please don’t make me repeat myself.”

“Fine.” He straightens. “I want to buy her.”

“Gonna have to get in line.” The saddle creaks as Brenda leans forward, most likely offering a juicy shot of her boob job. “Unless you’d like to make a deal.”

The sultry purr in Brenda’s voice solidifies my newfound dislike for her. Whatever delusions she’s under must be potentfor her to believe this situation is hers to control. My shoulders tremble with silent laughter.

“There’s nothing to negotiate.” My statement is meant for both of them.

“I beg to differ,” Drake tells me before flicking a dismissive glance at the woman still astride my horse. “Listen, Barbie—”

The blonde giggles while curling a lock of hair around her fingers. “It’s actually Brenda.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he drawls. “This horse is very special to my girlfriend, which makes her important to me. I’m going to need you to step aside and let me have her.”

“What’s in it for me?” Her coy tone makes me want to gag.

Drake doesn’t miss a beat. “You get to find your next barrel racing champion elsewhere.”

“That’s not going to satisfy me,” she deadpans.

“Want to play high stakes? I can spin that roulette wheel.”

The blonde’s expression goes blank. “Don’t you mean hardball?”

“Whatever blows your boots off. I’m willing to pay…” He dangles the pretense of an offer until I’m ready to jump out of my skin. “Ten thousand dollars.”

Silence thick enough to suffocate greets the amount. His smile is triumphant, thinking he’s shocked us. Brenda’s cackle bursts his bubble.

She wags a finger. “You’ll need to do better than that, pretty boy. The asking price is twenty.”

“Grand?” His eyes bulge, swinging to me. “Does that horse poop golden apples or what?”

“She has fantastic breeding and incentives,” I tell him, fully aware he doesn’t have a clue what that means.

But the cocky haggler nods. “In that case, let’s make it thirty.”

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