MILLIONAIRE'S SHOT: Second Chance Romance (14 page)

BOOK: MILLIONAIRE'S SHOT: Second Chance Romance
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Cassie rolled the grass between her thumb and forefinger, unable to imagine Alex ever pushing a child to ride. When she was little and Gramps assigned her a particularly nasty horse, Alex had always stepped in, tactfully distracting her grandfather and riding the horse himself. Rachel must have been the aggressive parent. She’d always wanted to be the best. Always needed to top the glamour crowd. Maybe she’d expected too much of Grace.

Cassie knew Alex would never assign blame. He’d always been very private, as well as loyal, never criticizing his parents or allowing anyone else to. The fact that he’d mentioned Grace’s psychologist was huge.

“But you’d never push Grace,” Cassie said, choosing her words carefully. “You’d never push anyone.”

“No. I wouldn’t.” He slid a plate on her lap. “Let’s eat.”

She stared down at the lobster sandwiches. Four perfect triangles with the crusts cut off. He’d even placed a pickle on the side. It was clear he didn’t intend to talk about Grace, or criticize Rachel. But there had been an odd tone in his voice and there were new lines bracketing his mouth. When he wasn’t smiling, he seemed troubled. And she couldn’t control her empathy. She wanted to help, wanted to leave knowing he and Grace would be able to enjoy riding together again.

“I’ll call my boss when we go back to the house,” she said. “Check if he has anything suitable. Some kids in the last movie needed bombproof horses. He won’t sell his animals to just anyone, but if you can guarantee a good home...”

She paused, reluctant to bring up a prickly subject, but Rachel’s callus treatment of Ginger couldn’t be ignored. She pulled in a fortifying breath, then her words came in a rush. “And you’d have to promise that Rachel would never ride him.”

Alex’s mouth tightened but he didn’t protest or even pretend Rachel hadn’t cut Ginger. “She won’t be allowed to hurt Grace’s horse,” he said.

It was clear that was all he intended to say. But it was enough. Because his word had always been rock solid and she still trusted him implicitly. He hadn’t said he’d stop Rachel from riding the horse, instead he’d used the word ‘hurt.’ And that was a little weird, but at least he could control Rachel.

Or thought he could.

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY

 

 

“You already shipped the horses back?” Cassie squeezed her phone in disappointment, glad Grace was still in the barn with Digger and wouldn’t realize she’d lost out on a movie horse.

Alex shifted his chair on the verandah, sitting so close now his knee brushed her leg. “I can fly a horse back,” he whispered. “No problem.”

Cassie nodded but knew Alex’s money wouldn’t make any difference to her boss. If Dan Barrett sent horses back to his California ranch, it meant he’d decided to keep them. For future movies or for retirement. And he wasn’t the type of man to change his mind.

She spoke to Dan for another few minutes. He even asked some concerned questions about her grandfather, along with the blunter question about when she’d return to work. But by the time they cut the connection she still hadn’t found a horse for Grace.

“Dan doesn’t have anything suitable, but he’ll keep an eye out,” she said, placing her phone on the table, using the movement as an excuse to inch her knee away from Alex’s leg. Unlike her, he seemed unfazed by the contact. Didn’t seem to realize how just the brush of his leg made her pulse race.

“Sounds like you have a good relationship with your boss,” Alex said. “That you get along well.” He spoke in a statement but there was an undercurrent of interest, hidden in the same careful tone he’d used when he returned from college, asking questions about her latest boyfriend.

Her heart gave a little kick. Maybe Alex wasn’t so immune after all. “Yes,” she said. “All the directors want Dan Barrett for their horse movies. He’s really helpful. Taught me a lot.”

Alex crossed his arms. “So Barrett’s been around awhile? Worked on a lot of movies?”

“Yes, some big ones. He did
Reckless
, the movie where they discovered a real murder while they filmed. He said he’d never had so many weird things happen on a set.”

“I gather he’s quite experienced,” Alex said. “An older guy?” His expression hadn’t changed nor did the texture of his voice. But she knew him too well. Could feel his carefully controlled interest.

“He’s about your age,” she said. “Crazy that he just trains horses because he’s better looking than most movie stars.” She gave a vague smile, not about to admit that Dan was happily married to one of her best friends.

Alex lifted his glass and took an abrupt swig of lemonade. The line of his tanned throat rippled when he swallowed. He lowered his glass and she pulled her gaze away, pretending she hadn’t been studying his reaction.

“It must be interesting working on movie sets.” He spoke slowly, almost reluctantly. “Meeting all those actors. I know about the equine center in West Virginia. But after you left that job I lost touch. Heard rumors you were working in the movie industry but didn’t know any details. Your grandfather certainly wasn’t talking. How did you end up in California?”

Her composure slipped and now it was her turn to reach for the lemonade. She’d been devastated when she left, still reeling from his decision to marry Rachel. About the only thing she’d retained was her pride and she intended to keep that. So by the time she lowered her glass, she was able to summon a cool smile. “You mean after you dumped me?”

He winced.

“It took awhile to get over you,” she continued. “And I was working hard, staying busy with horses. They let me gallop the most rambunctious ones. No one ever wanted to ride them but they were a piece of cake after Gramps’ horses. One of them was owned by Dan Barrett. He saw me and offered a job.” She shrugged. “I’m not sure why Gramps avoided you all those years. I don’t think he ever realized we’d…hooked up.”

Calling it a hookup was blatantly wrong for what she had felt for their three-week love affair, but somehow she managed to keep her easy smile. She could feel his scrutiny, the intensity of those intelligent eyes. And then it was impossible to maintain her façade. Her mouth cracked, just a bit, but it was obvious he saw.

“Oh, Cass.” He reached out and wrapped her hand in his. “I never loved Rachel. But no child of mine was going to grow up like I did. I had to try and make it work.”

She thought the worst anguish was over but now she was ambushed by fresh pain. She understood his deep sense of responsibility. And in a way admired it. But he hadn’t contacted her, even after he was divorced—and that hurt. Now he was holding her hand, speaking so tenderly, and dammit, she could tell he still cared.

And once again, her skin heated from his touch. His thumb moved over the sensitive skin on her wrist, making her pulse jerk along with her heart.

“You and Rachel are divorced,” she said, staring at his hand over hers. “Yet you still live together?”

“I stay in the poolhouse. My office is set up there. It’s not ideal, but it works.”

And Grace had two parents around, just like he always wanted. She tugged her hand away, feeling sad and cold and hopeless. The same emotions she had when he told her Rachel was pregnant. When his eyes had been wet with tears and she’d seen the anguish on his face. And that underscored why she’d been wise to stay away. He was divorced. But nothing had changed.

She pressed her shoulders against the unyielding slats of the chair, wishing she didn’t have to see him every day. But Grace needed support and she was in a position to help. Even if, ultimately, it would only improve Grace’s relationship with her mother. And therefore with Alex.

“Hopefully I can find Grace a safe horse before I leave,” she said, forcing a breezy smile. “So she can have fun riding with you again.”

“You’ve always had a big heart,” Alex said. “Thank you, Cass.”

He was still leaning forward, one hand resting lightly on his knee, scant inches away. His gaze lowered to her mouth, his eyes darkening. She could sense his interest. If she tilted her head, he’d probably lean in and kiss her. Maybe for old time’s sake, maybe for the start of something more.

But he couldn’t give her what she wanted. So letting that happen would be a huge mistake.

She rose from the chair, so quickly it scraped back, the grating sound loud on the quiet verandah.

“No problem at all,” she said. “That’s what friends are for.”

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

 

 

Alex swerved around a gaping rut, too preoccupied to totally avoid hitting the hole. Little wonder Cassie’s trailer had ended up with a flat tire. He’d send a private crew to repair the blacktop. It would be quicker than relying on the government. The south side of the county was always the last to be awarded paving projects.

He’d be delighted to buy Jake a new trailer as well as tires, but knew the man would refuse. It had been frustrating watching Cassie struggle as a kid, and he’d insisted on taking lessons from Jake long after he could learn any more from him. Of course, Cassie was just as stubborn as her grandfather about accepting his money. But he didn’t like to see the worried look on her face. Never had.

Clearly Jake’s place was in rough shape. Fences sagged and a strong wind could blow the roof off the barn. Cassie couldn’t stay home more than a few weeks, and it was obvious from the phone call with her boss that the man wanted her back soon. There had to be a way he could help without rousing their prickly independence.

Nine years ago his guilt had prompted him to transfer ownership of the south field to Jake. Cassie wouldn’t take his money, and the field was a prime piece of real estate. Maybe Jake could sell it. However, it adjoined the Sutherland land and it would be a shame if it were sold to a third party. What Jake really needed was an infusion of cash in a way that wouldn’t hurt his pride.

The only other things Jake had of value were his four polo ponies. But it wasn’t feasible to buy them. Jake and Cassie didn’t want Rachel riding their horses. They’d seen how she treated Ginger and didn’t trust her with their animals.

He didn’t trust Rachel either.

Beside him, Grace bounced in the passenger’s seat, still talking nonstop about her fun day at Cassie’s barn. He gave another distracted nod but his thoughts remained wrapped around Jake and Cassie.

If they managed to sell their horses, Jake would have a cash cushion. But then Cassie would leave. And he liked having her back, even if it was just to teach Grace. Even if that’s all it could be…at least for now. His hands tightened around the wheel and he nearly hit another gaping pothole, then realized Grace was asking him a question.

“Lobster sandwiches are almost as good as peanut butter, don’t you think?” she said. “I ate nearly as many as Cassie. Would you buy me some faded jeans, just like hers? And I can keep them at her barn.”

He glanced sideways. Rachel looked after Grace’s wardrobe. In fact, it was unusual for Grace to even talk about clothes but the hours with Cassie had left her relaxed and chatty. “Sure,” he said. “But why keep them at Cassie’s barn?”

Grace shifted on the seat and he swung his gaze back to the road. She’d grown into a reserved child, weighing every word before speaking, as if afraid of making a mistake, so this new chattiness was a marked improvement. And something he wanted to encourage.

“Why keep them at Cassie’s barn?” he repeated. “In case you get wet in the brook?”

“No,” Grace said. “It’s just that I don’t mind wearing jeans over there.” She fiddled with her seatbelt, her hair falling like a wall around her face. “She doesn’t care that I’m fat,” she whispered.

He whipped over a bump, the low-slung car scraping in protest. Rachel was so obsessed with a perfect image it was affecting Grace. But this was the first time Grace had ever verbalized it. Even the therapists hadn’t been able to pull anything out. “What don’t you like about the way you look?” he asked.

Grace shrugged then gave her standard reply. “I don’t want to talk about it, Dad.”

Her phone chirped and she grabbed it, clearly relieved to change the subject. “It’s Mom,” she said, staring at the screen. “I can’t wait to tell her about our picnic by the brook. I bet she’d come next time, if you invited her.”

He hid his horror with a neutral smile, remaining silent as Grace pressed the phone to her ear and began talking. But the thought of Rachel at Jake’s almost made him ill. She poisoned everything. And she’d always been insanely jealous of Cassie, not to mention he’d promised Rachel wouldn’t be driving Grace. Plus Cassie was no fool. She knew Rachel wasn’t a friend.

“You pay too much attention to that young groom,” Rachel had said, the first time he’d brought her home from college. “What are you two always laughing about? And hugging a groom? Really, Alex.”

“It’s just Cass,” he said. “I haven’t seen her for months.”

Rachel had given that throaty laugh that always reminded him of lush lips and tangled bed sheets. “Darling,” she said. “The little groom has to let you hug her if she’s on your payroll. But I bet she hates the way you paw her. And it’s best to keep staff at arm’s length so there are never any misunderstandings.” She skimmed a teasing finger over the inside of his thigh, laughing when his cock instantly hardened. “Now forget the barn help,” she cooed. “And show me your bedroom.”

They’d spent most of that weekend in bed since the day after initial introductions to Rachel his parents had left on an extended European vacation. But he’d refrained from hugging Cassie again, horrified she might think he was a creep. And discomfited to admit how nice it felt when she hugged him back.

He gave a weary sigh. Rachel had always known how to manipulate, even managing to charm his parents. He just hadn’t realized until it was too late.

Grace was still on the phone, telling her mother about how Digger and Cassie were so wonderful and how the brook was the very best place in the world to swim. He wished she wouldn’t go into so much detail, but he wasn’t going to confuse Grace by asking her to keep secrets. She had to deal with enough mind games from her mother. He wasn’t going to throw any more at her.

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