Sugar Daddies

by Jade West

  “What do you want it to make us?” I pulled away from Katie’s street and felt so much better.

  She shrugged. “That’s a question and a half, Carl. I don’t know how you want me to answer that off the cuff.”

  “With honesty,” I said. “It’s not a hard question, you must know how you feel.”

  “I like you, if that’s what you mean. I like you both, a lot.”

  “You like us?”

  “Like you, enjoy your company, enjoy your dicks,” she laughed but I didn’t. She stopped. “I really like you guys. You’re funny and you’re smart, and kind, and different, and great in bed.”

  “But you’re in it for the cash,” I said. “It’s alright, I get it.”

  Her eyes burned me. “No,” she said, and there was fire in it. “I’m not just in it for the cash. I hardly think about the cash.” She sighed. “If I didn’t have a dream and no way to pay for it, I wouldn’t even want the cash.”

  “So, what do you want?”

  She pointed out the sign for Woolhope. “I want to see my baby boy,” she said. “That’s what I want.”

  “Fine,” I said. “I can take a hint.” I reached for her knee and her hand was waiting. “Onwards, to the furry beast. We’ll pick this conversation up another time.”

  The furry beast seemed bigger without Rick there too. Bigger and clumsier. He threw his head up, ears pricked as he followed Katie along to the stable block. I nipped ahead of him, avoiding his clomping feet, playing it cool even though the brute made me uneasy.

  Katie could tell my unease regardless. “Relax,” she said. “He’s totally fine.” She offered me the lead rope. “Take it if you want, you’ll see.”

  “I’m ok as I am for now,” I said.

  “So am I,” she said, and leaned in to kiss my cheek. “That’s what I should have said in the car. I’m happy, Carl, with everything. For now.”

  “For now?”

  She nodded. “For now, yeah. We’re good. All of us. I like it.”

  I wanted to say so much. Spill my load in more ways than one. The need to lay it all out slept uneasily in the pit of me. I could wake it with just a touch, and it would spring into life and come rolling out. And it would plough into her, and maybe she’d run. Just like the others.

  “I like it, too. Very much.”

  “Good,” she said. “Then we’re good, right?”

  I wrapped my arm around her waist. “We’re good.”

  She tethered Samson to a loop of twine outside his stable door. “Surely he could break that?” I asked.

  “That’s the point,” she said. “If he got freaked, or spooked or whatever, he could break the twine. He wouldn’t hurt himself.”

  “Nice to know,” I said, imagining that flimsy bit of nothing doing sweet fuck all if the brute decided to go for me.

  He was still eyeballing me, still hostile. Even chomping on hay he was eyeballing me. She picked up his feet one by one, held them between her thighs as she scraped the mud out of them. Rather her than me.

  I wished Rick was with us, making her laugh with his easy conversation. He’d know what to say, what to do. He’d do this what’s going on conversation so much more casually than I could. Probably because he wouldn’t do it at all.

  Katie saddled up, fastened up her helmet. She was all smiles.

  “Do you need a leg up or something?” I asked, but she shook her head.

  She hoisted herself up easily, swinging a leg across his back and mounting up without a second’s hesitation. She shortened her stirrups, and took up the reins, and they were off, pacing back the way we’d come.

  “Could you get the gate?” She pointed to the side of the wood-chipped arena. “That one.”

  I dashed in front of them and did what she asked. She trotted on through, rising and falling in the saddle, her thighs so toned I could see the definition of her through her jodhpurs.

  She pointed at the jumps laid out around the field. Poles of red and white, yellow and white. Some high, some doubles, some just poles on the floor. One of the arrangements had toppled.

  I ran to it before she asked, propped it back up to height.

  She thanked me. My suit definitely didn’t.

  I leaned against the fence at a safe distance and watched. I watched everything, soaking her in. Samson’s easy gait as she warmed him up, long loops around the outside, figures of eight through the jumps. I watched the way she moved, the sophisticated freedom in her posture. The smile on her face, the concentration as she turned him, guided him.

  She was a picture.

  A swan on water, in her element, bursting with joy.

  I could watch her forever.

  My heart thumped as she took the first jump, but the horse leapt it easily. She rose and fell, freeing up the reins as he needed them, then patted his neck, squeezed her legs to his sides to encourage him onwards. They took another jump and it was magical. A third and I was addicted. Feeling the rhythm in his hooves, the duh-duh-duh, duh-duh-duh, duh-duh-duh, and then the silence as he leapt, the thump of his landing, and back to the duh-duh-duh.

  I was smiling as they jumped a double, two in quick succession. Willing her forwards, loving the way they moved as one.

  I could love this, watching her.

  I could fall in love with this.

  She gave Samson a big pat when they’d done enough, and her cheeks were rosy as she walked him around the field, his head hanging low, reins long and loose in her hands. He was sweaty at the neck, and smelled of leather and beast as she walked him close by. I opened the gate for them, and they passed me close enough that I could feel the heat of him, heading back up to the stable block.

  I followed, and she stared over her shoulder, leaning back on his rump.

  “What do you think?” she asked. “Were we good?”

  “Amazing,” I said. “Seriously. It was amazing.”

  “It’s taken a long time.” She smiled. “He was green when he arrived, jumped too big. Nervous.”

  “He didn’t look nervous today.”

  “He’s not anymore,” she said. “He trusts me. He knows me.”

  “The beauty of experience,” I said. “In becoming comfortable with each other.”

  She dismounted and tethered him, taking off his saddle as he rummaged in the hay net. “We’re competing in the Cheltenham Chase in August,” she said. “The only course this summer.”

  “I’m sure you’ll do very well,” I said, and I meant it.

  “I hope so.” Her eyes met mine. “Verity is doing it, too, on some posh fancy horse her daddy paid a fortune for.”

  “And that’s why you’re doing it?”

  She shrugged. “Maybe a little. I want to win.”

  “It’s a slippery slope,” I said. “Competing with just one person. It never ends up pleasantly, even if you win.”

  “Still,” she said. “I want to win.” A rumble of a truck sounded in the distance and she dashed along the path. “It’s Jack,” she said. “Finally! I haven’t seen him in aaages!” She picked up Samson’s saddle, handed it to me with his bridle. Sweaty leather slammed into my suit jacket, but she didn’t notice, she was too keen to go. “Can you put this in the tack room, please? And keep an eye on Samson? I won’t be long.”

  I nodded, but I doubt she even saw me. She was already rushing away.

  She was gone a while. Long enough that the furry brute finished up his hay, even the scraggly bits that had dropped to the floor. He blew out a sigh and looked around the place, straining on his rope as he looked towards the farmhouse.

  “Steady,” I said. “Don’t go breaking that twine.” As though the beast would understand me.

  His eyes met mine and they were dark and curious, and hostile. Still hostile.

  His ears flicked about, this way and that, his tail swishing idly at the flies.

  I dared to take a step forward. “Hey, boy. Good boy.”

  I reached out a hand, but he tossed his head away. It freaked me out en
ough to step back again, but the action pained me, frustrated me.

  And then it hit me.

  I wanted the animal to like me.

  Ridiculous, but true.

  I wanted him to like me, so that she’d like me. Because he was important.

  “Hey,” I said again. “Who’s a good boy?”

  His eyes bored into me. I took a breath and a step forward, and this time I kept my hand out, even when he moved his head away. “Who’s a good boy? A friendly boy?” I kept my tone light. “Hey, boy, please don’t savage me, hey? Don’t trample me.”

  I placed a hand on his neck and he was hot and sweaty, but soft. My heart thumped.

  “Good boy.”

  I patted him, as though I knew what I was doing. He didn’t move, just stared.

  Please, I willed. Please, just like me. Please.

  I took deep breaths, gentle steps, until I was close to his side. His ears kept flicking, his weight shifting on his feet.

  “Good boy, Samson, that’s a good boy.”

  He tossed his head again as I placed a hand on his face, and I pulled away but only a fraction.

  “Please,” I whispered. “Please just give me a chance, boy.”

  When I put my hand out again he stayed still, and my heart leapt in my chest. I placed my hand on his nose, and he snorted, snuffled. He snuffled me, his nose in my pockets. And then he butted me, like he’d butted Katie.

  And I wasn’t scared.

  “Good boy!” I said, and wished I had fucking mints. I wished I had a whole truckload of fucking mints.

  He butted me again, and I rubbed his ears, and he didn’t mind.

  I felt the connection, beast to man, man to beast. He’d taken my measure and I’d done alright. I’d passed whatever horsey paces he’d put me through.

  “Good boy, Samson, that’s a good boy.”

  I stroked the white stripe on his face and he didn’t flinch.

  Didn’t move when I wrapped my arms around his neck and gave the beast a hug, caring fuck all for my suit.

  “That’s it,” I whispered. “Friends now.”

  It felt seriously fucking good.

  I was still petting the brute when I heard Katie’s footsteps on the path. I turned to face her with a smile, patting the horse like we were best fucking buddies.

  My stomach was tight and tickly, and a little bit excited, and my heart was full of life.

  “He likes me,” I said. “He actually fucking likes me!”

  My eyes met hers, hoping for approval and joy and excitement to match mine, but there was nothing of the sort.

  Katie’s eyes were puffy and sad. Her cheeks reddened from tears.

  “What?” I said, dropping the horse hugs and heading straight for her. “What the hell happened?”

  She struggled to speak at first, just took my arms and gripped them with tense fingers. She shook her head and another tear fell.

  “Talk to me,” I said. “What is it?”

  She took a gulp of air that sounded like a sob.

  “It’s Jack,” she said. “The bank… the bank are repossessing, threatening to close the business…” Another tear, and a proper sob this time. “He’s selling the land, he’s got no choice. He’s got to sell it, the stables, the yard. All of it.”

  “Ok,” I said. “It’s alright.”

  But she was shaking her head. “It’s not alright,” she said. “My dream is over. It’s gone. It’s all fucking gone.”

  And then she cried.

  She really fucking cried.

  She didn’t let me hold her, just brushed her tears aside and busied herself with Samson. I helped as best I could, helping her brush him down before putting his rug on, opening gates, holding a hosepipe while the water trough was filling, but I don’t believe she even noticed. Her thoughts were far away, eyes brimming with tears as they stared into the distance.

  I could feel her dreams breaking.

  And mine were in my throat, desperate to reach out and grab hers and hold the cracks together.

  I watched Samson make his way back down the field, calling out to his horsey friends before he took off into a run, but for once Katie didn’t linger. She was already off, head collar in hand, trudging back across the yard towards the car.

  I caught her up, but she said nothing, just hung the collar on its hook by Samson’s stable and gathered up the hosepipe.

  “Home?” I said, and she nodded. She climbed up into the Range and clipped her belt, and her breath was shallow and ragged. I pulled away from the yard, keeping slow along the lane.

  The silence was loud. Too loud.

  “It’s that bad?” I said. “No room to negotiate? They won’t give him any leeway?”

  She shook her head. “They’ve given him all they were willing to give. I was too late.”

  “Too late?”

  “I hoped I’d have enough money to pay six months’ rent up front. Jack needed the cash for the bank.”

  “But that’s no longer an option?”

  Her lip trembled a little. “I think it was always a longshot. Wishful thinking, both of us. He couldn’t make the business work on his own. I just hoped…” Her voice trailed off.

  Wishful thinking, maybe, but the girl looked broken. She chewed on her knuckles as the car rumbled on, and the need in me boiled over, exploded. I pulled into a turning, Haugh Wood the sign read. A parking area virtually empty. I pulled up, turned off the engine, and Katie stared at me.

  “What are we…?”

  “It’s your dream?” I asked. “This place? This particular place? This yard?”

  She nodded. “Stupid really.” She was breathy, her voice a wisp. “I have it all planned out, everything. I know where I’d put the field shelters, how I’d fix up the school, where I’d set up a proper jumping course. I know this place, I know the people. I’ve got a list of kids who want lessons, a list of kids who can’t afford it but want to help out anyway.” She met my eyes. “I wanted it so bad. I want it so bad.”

  “What about other yards? You could rent somewhere else, no?”

  She shrugged. “Maybe. I dunno. I guess. It’s all the unknown.” Her eyes welled up again. “This place just feels special to me. The place I had my first horse, the place Samson and I found our feet.” She pointed to a track at the far end of the parking area. “We hack through these woods all the time. I know every path, every hill, every turn. I love it here. I love everything about this place.”

  I sighed, my hands on the steering wheel. “How much does he need? How much is he selling the land for?”

  She laughed a sad little laugh. “Too much. I don’t even know, a couple of hundred grand. Too much to worry about.”

  And I said it. I just fucking said it. “I could buy it.”

  Silence. Then a laugh. More like a snort. “You what?”

  “I’m serious,” I said. “I could buy it for you. A couple of hundred grand, I could do that. It could be an investment, the land wouldn’t lose its value. I have enough capital.”

  Wide eyes stared at me. “Why would you buy it? You don’t even like horses.”

  “No.” I turned to her. “I don’t like horses, but I’m here anyway. I don’t even like the outdoors, I don’t like mud, I don’t like the smell of animal shit, the thought of trekking through open fields really doesn’t turn me on. But I’m here. Because of you. Because I like you.”

  “I like you, too,” she said. “But you can’t buy Jack’s land, that’s… that’s insane. I couldn’t pay you back. I have no idea when I could pay you back. Probably never.” I could see the thoughts piling up behind her eyes, her head shaking as she worked through them.

  “You wouldn’t need to. I wouldn’t expect you to.”

  “Then why? Why would you?” She held up her hands. “And at the end of six months, what? What even happens? What if we call it quits and move on? What happens then, when you own my yard and you don’t want it anymore?”

  “That wouldn’t happen.”

>   She raised her eyebrows. “How do you know? Anything could happen. And then you’d own a yard you never even wanted and I’d owe you everything.”

  “Or you’d be happy, and I’d be happy, and Rick would be happy. We could be happy, Katie. How about that?”

  She took a breath. “A couple of hundred grand for a few years, you said. The other week, in the car, what did you mean?”

  I felt a shiver down my spine. “That doesn’t matter now. That has nothing to do with this.”

  “It has everything to do with this,” she said. “You’re offering me a couple of hundred grand, just like that, you say it’s so I can be happy. So we can be happy. What does happy even look like to you, Carl? What do you want from me?”

  I sighed, gripped the steering wheel. “It’s just an offer. You want the yard, I can buy it. That’s all.”

  She shook her head. “People don’t just go around buying hundreds of thousands of pounds worth of gifts to be happy, Carl. In the car, you said a couple of years, you said it was an option. That’s what you wanted from me, that’s what you implied. Is that still what you want? Because if that’s on the table, if that’s really what this is about… a few years in exchange for the yard… I mean, I dunno… if that’s what it meant… maybe I could…”

  I closed my eyes. “Don’t do this, Katie. It was a simple offer. This isn’t the right time for this.”

  “For what?” I heard her shift in her seat. “What isn’t this the right time for?”

  Six months, Carl. Just give it time, man. Chill the fuck out.

  Katie’s breath was loud. “I mean, if you want me to guarantee this… arrangement we have, for a couple of years… I could do that… I wouldn’t even mind…” I listened to her breathing, listened to her thinking. “But even at the current rate… two hundred grand… that’s like six years or something…” She sighed. “Anything could happen in six years. How do you know you’d even want that? Do you want that?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t want to pay you to be in a relationship with us for six years, Katie.”