Page 16 of Tempted By the Broken Cowboy
BECKETT
The world is still around me—all except for the horses in the corral. I lean on the fence, my hat low, wishing my thoughts about her would be as easy to rein in as the animals I break for a living.
For some reason, I can’t get Quinn out of my head. Partially because I’m on edge thinking about how she might pop in here at any moment, but also because that night in my hotel room has been ingrained in my mind.
Her soft skin, her lips on mine, the sexiest moans, and the feel of her wetness on my fingers. Part of me wishes we’d taken things further that night, but I’m glad we didn’t. I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself for taking advantage of her while she was at her most vulnerable.
She reacted so negatively, yet we didn’t have sex, so I hate to think how she would behave if we had. She probably would have had me stoned to death or something. She is the mayor’s daughter, after all, and the whole town hates me, so all they’d need is one excuse, plausible or not, to get rid of me.
Those thoughts don’t stop me from thinking about her, though, as the memories are deeply ingrained in my mind. This is why I think working with her would be torture—not only because we don’t like each other but also due to the fact that I want more than just fucking her with my fingers.
Ah, fuck.
What are these thoughts I’m having about my best friend’s younger sister? I should be ashamed of myself, but I cannot stop.
But with each passing day, I’m becoming more grateful as the possibility of her showing up here keeps dwindling. Another reason why I want her as far away from me as possible is that I don’t think I’ll be able to handle the judgment in her eyes when she truly learns how damaged I am. I know she has an idea, but it’s vague, and that is okay for now. Any more, and my ego—what’s left of it—might not be able to handle it.
A mare walks up to me, rubbing her nose all over my chest and neck, slobbering me with saliva, bringing a smile to my face. Now this is my kind of therapy. Working with horses has always brought me a sense of peace like no other. It’s only ever been rivaled by being high out of my mind on drugs, but since I can’t do that anymore, I’m settling for second best.
In this corral, the horses don’t care about my past or how many times I’ve let temptation win. They only know the steadiness of my hand and the patient side of me that only they get to experience. Out here, with dust in my lungs and leather creaking beneath my grip, I almost feel like the man I am trying to be, not the one my family and the small town of Wrangler Creek still whisper about. Almost.
Pushing myself off the fence, I get back to work, hoping to focus my mind on something other than Quinn. That’s enough time wasted on her.
At Iron Stallion ranch, I might not be an administrator, but I think I have the coolest job of all as a horse trainer.
Every horse that steps into my hands carries its own kind of wild. Some are stubborn, some are scared, some just don’t know what they’re meant to be yet. My job isn’t just teaching them to carry a saddle or follow a rein—it’s about listening to the language they don’t have words for. Out here on the ranch, I’m the bridge between their instincts and the work they’re meant to do. I take the kicks, the sidesteps, the long hours in the dirt, because at the end of it, when a horse lowers its head and finally trusts me, that’s the reward. That’s when I know I’ve done my job.
Later in the afternoon, when I’ve had enough and have pushed myself and the mares I’ve been training to the limit, I call it a day and leave the corral.
I find Ella seated on a rocking chair on the front porch, surrounded by bridal magazines. She’s Ava’s maid of honor and has taken it upon herself to plan the whole wedding.
“Hey, that’s mine!” she scolds when I take the cold glass of juice next to her.
“And now it’s mine,” I smirk just before I drain it in one go.
She scowls at me, but I just wink and set the glass back down. “Calm down. I’ll have someone send you a fresh glass.”
“You better.”
Instead of heading inside directly, I stick around for a few minutes so we can catch up. Ella and I are actually pretty close. She was the one who found me on the bathroom floor when I OD’d. The look on her face when I came to at the hospital was the wakeup call I needed. I almost died that day, and I saw just how badly that would affect my family, especially Ella. That’s why I went directly to rehab after I was discharged, and every day is a battle to keep doing better for their sake and mine too.
“You’re in a good mood,” Ella comments.
“Aren’t I always?”
She snorts at my response. “No, you’ve been a cranky mess the past couple of days.”
“That’s because of you guys. You were trying to force something I didn’t want on me.”
Her face softens. “We just want the best for you, Beck.”
“I know, but you’re going about it the wrong way. No worries, though—I guess Quinn shares my thoughts since she isn’t here, which means I’ve got nothing to worry about.”
“It’s only been a few days, and she hasn’t exactly said no, so it might be too soon to say she doesn’t want the job,” Ella reasons, but that’s not what I want to hear.
“If she wanted it, she would be here already, but since she’s not, we can assume she’s found what she wanted elsewhere.”
She brushes me off with a wave of her hand. “You’re too smug for your own good.”
