Page 10 of Brim Over Boot
I barely see any of it.
Colton goddamn Darling.
It’d almost be better if he didn’t know his stuff. Almost. Because while I’d never wish harm to the horses he tends to, I hate to admit the man is a fine farrier. Of course, I knew that already. Colton being bad at his job was never the issue.
It’s the fact that he won’t let me be. I don’t know if he gets some sadistic pleasure out of needling me, but in all the years I’ve been here, he’s never stopped. Justpoke, poke, pokeevery time he steals another client or passes me in town, a glare aimed my way he never seems to direct toward anybody else.
There’s a quickening of my heartbeat as I remember the way he stormed after me the other day. Nowthat, I wasn’t expecting. For all Colton’s inherent assholery, he’s never come at me directly. Not like that.
I probably shouldn’t have shoved him, but I can’t find it in me to regret it.
I loop back around the kids’ crafting stations, heading toward the food set up at the edge of the park. Trees are sprinkled throughout the grassy space, their bare branches starting to wake now that winter is over. Bundles of dark red buds cover the maple trees. Soon, the branches will be flush with bright green leaves.
Spotting a vendor selling tulip-shaped cookies and miniature pies, I head that way. My uncle never can resist a sugar cookie.
As I’m paying for my small bag of goods, I hear, “Well, hey there, Sierra. Doing all right?”
Sierra, the woman handing me my change, graces Colton with a wide smile. “Just fine, thanks. How’s the ranch?”
Colton opens his mouth to answer when he realizes exactly who he’s standing beside. As expected, his face transforms into a glower, but he recovers quickly, redirecting his attention Sierra’s way and effectively dismissing me. I have the sudden urge to flick the man’s cheek.
I thank Sierra and turn away, hearing Colton tell her about yoga classes at the petting farm that will be starting up again in a few weeks and some pony named Snickerdoodle. I’ve lived practically a stone’s throw away from the man for well over a decade, yet there’s so little I actually know about him. Because Colton won’t let me know him. He never gave me the chance. He couldn’t have made his preference for me to stay far,faraway more clear if he tried.
Colton Darling, friend to everyone in town but me, with his pretty boy looks and windswept hair, the dark stubble, and those piercing blue eyes women like Sierra seem to love. Ihateblue.
I pull a sugar cookie out of my bag, biting the tulip and its perfect baby blue frosting in half. It’s strangely satisfying, and, admittedly, the cookie does taste good.
“I wanna know what you offered the Brookes.”
Je-sus.
I turn slowly, regarding Colton, who followed me.Again. His jaw is set in a hard line, the squared muscles tense.
“Why?” I ask. “So you can undercut me?”
“Yes.”
Well, fuck. At least he’s honest. “I’m not gonna give my competitor tips.”
He crosses his arms, even though hehadto know I wasn’t going to tell him. Truth be told, it wasn’t just a cheaper cost I offered the Brookes. They’ll be keeping me and my uncle stocked in goat cheese and soap for the next six months while they try to increase the revenue brought in by their farm. Well worth the trade of shoeing their horse, if you ask me.
“Is that all?” I ask Colton, who’s standing less than ten feet away, still staring at me. “Need a kiss goodbye or something?”
He balks. “I don’t want your mouth anywhere near me.”
I huff what might be a laugh. “Makes two of us. You here to apologize then? For that shit you pulled last year?”
A muscle in his jaw tics, even as his expression turns distinctly guilty. “I didn’t mean to do it,” he grits out, the words so quiet they’re hard to decipher.
“Still lost me thirty horses, little Colt. I only took back one. Doesn’t seem like a fair trade to me.”
Colton looks away, unable to hold my eye. What he pulled with Marie Dohertywasdownright shady. I’ve never sullied his name to get clients, only offered better deals.
“God,” he spits. “You think you’re so…entitled.”
“Sorry?” I say around a harsh laugh.
He waves a hand my way. “You. Big Noah King, all high and mighty, waiting for me to kneel in front of you.”
