Page 93 of A Photo Finish
I let my arms slide down around her neck as I press a kiss to her mane and laugh. That was the most bizarre and most fun race of my life. Pipsqueak is a total psychopath.
“You’re nuts. You know that?” I sit up tall to slow her a little. Scratching at her withers the way I know she likes, feeling my cheeks ache with the intensity of the smile I can’t wipe off my face.
I see our pony horse move up out of my periphery, something I’m glad for because Pippy doesn’t seem too keen to stop. Hopefully an older, calmer horse will get her head screwed back on right. I’m still looking around as the rider comes up beside us and reaches for the rein. Sad as it sounds, I’m still looking around, hoping I might catch sight of Cole somewhere. Wearing a beautiful suit and that growly look on his face. I love that growly look, and the voice that matches it.
I love him.
I should enjoy this win. But I’m pining after a guy I fell in love with like some wishy-washy teenager.
“I knew you’d win,” the pony rider says from beside me. But his voice is . . .
I look over, and my jaw goes slack. Because Cole Harding is on the sturdy quarter horse beside me. He’s holding Pippy’s rein.He’s on a horse.
“Cat got your tongue?” He grins, looking so damn proud of himself.
My eyes prickle and fill as I work to pull Pippy up, wanting to slow down. Wanting to stop—wanting time to stand still so I can crawl into his lap again. “You’re here.”
“Surprise.” His smirk is panty-melting. All I can bring myself to do is shake my head. “Did you think I’d miss it?” he asks with a tilt of his head.
“I . . .” We slow to a trot and then a walk before coming to a complete stop in the middle of the track while other horses barrel past us to the exit gate. “I honestly wasn’t sure.”
“Both my girls in one race? No chance.”
My girls.“I just . . .” My mouth moves, but no sound comes out. “It’s been two weeks!”
“I know. Learning how to ride again with a prosthetic in only two weeks was almost a full-time job.”
I scan his body in the big western saddle. He looks comfortable. “You look good,” I say honestly. “How did you pull this off?”
He chuckles. “Billie.” Like her name alone explains everything. “Something about horses being therapy. I honestly think she might be onto something.”
“You’re here. On this track. On a horse,” I say dumbly, still having a hard time wrapping my head around it.
He looks around as if soaking in everything. The sights, the sounds, the horses, and a wistful smile touches his lips as he looks back at me. “I am.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want to live in the dark anymore.”
My throat constricts, and I wish I could say something, but I’m too choked up. I wipe my eyes and look around us shyly.That’swhat I wanted to hear. Not that he’s only doing this for me, but for himself.
“Come on, let’s get you off the track.”
I nod, letting him give the rein a gentle tug as he leads us toward the gate and the winner’s circle. I’m dazed. Elated.Shocked.
I watch him ride, and he looks so natural. He said he rode with his dad. It was something they liked to do together. Hit the trails and go on an adventure. I know he hasn’t sat on a horse since his father’s death.
“How does it feel? Riding again?” I murmur quietly as our horses’ hooves clip-clop in unison on the concrete path to the winner’s circle.
His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, peeking at me from the corner of his eye. “It feels like this is what he would have wanted.”
I nod, sensing he’s had a bit of a breakthrough, and look back up at the crowd gathering at the winner’s circle. It’s not quite the frenzy it usually is with DD, but it might be even more satisfying. It might be the best race ever, to be honest.
Cole is about to hop off his horse, but I can’t take it anymore. “Stop.” I reach out and grab his elbow right as he looks over my way. “Does this mean you’re going to try?”
He looks around us shyly, knowing that people are watching now. Probably wondering why the hell I’m having an intense conversation with the rider of my pony horse. He looks at me so sincerely, I swear I feel my heart squeeze in my chest. He reaches out, one hand on my cheek, thumb rubbing like he always does.
“Yeah, Violet. I’m going to try. More than that, I’m going to just fucking do it. Because you? Us? I think we’re meant to be. You found me, and I found you. Over and over again. If that’s not a sign, I don’t know what is.”
