The Radcliffes

by T. J. Kline

  Stretching out, his stride lengthened as he ate up the synthetic material that covered the ground as he made the first turn. Fallon’s heart raced almost in time with his gallop.

  A gray horse tried to break from the pack along the rail, but then got caught in another group farther up. Excitement erupted around her as the horses came around the last turn.

  Fallon could see Dreamer on the outside, giving him the disadvantage of having to run harder, farther, and faster than the rest. He fought for every inch he gained, tearing past the other horses and closing in on the leaders, who were now grouped three wide in the front. As the animals strained toward the finish line, Dreamer crept closer.

  Hands reached for Fallon’s shoulders, shaking her as cheers roared in her ears. Several of the men began yelling instructions to the jockey, as if he could hear them from here. In a pounding thunder of hooves that Fallon could feel in her chest, the horses crossed the finish line, neck and neck. It was too close to determine the winner.

  They had to wait for the final call.

  Her grandmother’s friends were laughing, cheerful at the prospect of the horse they bet on winning even third place. But when Fallon met her grandmother’s gaze, excitement wasn’t what she saw. It was the same expression she’d seen in her grandmother’s face most of her life.

  Disappointment.

  Chapter 21

  “Two freaking points.” Fallon paced the aisle of the barn, wishing she could lose her temper. She wanted to throw something—anything. “Damn it. He was so close. Winning only two points won’t get us to the Derby.”

  “And now he’s hurt again,” Travis pointed out.

  She glared at him. The last thing she needed right now was another “I told you so.” She’d heard it from her grandmother, right before she’d pulled Fallon aside and informed her that she’d had enough of this “horse nonsense” after Dreamer had placed third. She’d insisted Fallon write off her losses and be back in her position as the Marketing Director for Radcliffe Shipping before June.

  In Fallon’s mind, that gave her four months from now to prove herself. With Dreamer’s injury, though, she didn’t know when, or if, he’d race again.

  Thanks to the dressing-down she’d taken from her grandmother, Fallon hadn’t arrived at the barn until after the vet had already left. She eyed the bandage on Dreamer’s leg. “What did the vet say?”

  “Physically, he’ll be fine. He must have cut his pastern when he reared in the gate. Just a few stitches.” Travis turned his back on her and looked in Dreamer’s stall, where the colt was eating. “Emotionally, I don’t know.” He shook his head and looked back at her accusingly. “I told you he wasn’t ready.”

  His words only fueled the doubts racing through her mind. Why was she doing this? She didn’t know the first thing about training racehorses. She knew marketing, and should have stuck with that. Everyone expected her to fail. She was out of her element. Now, she was beginning to believe they were right.

  “Santa Anita’s almost two months away, and we only have two points toward the Derby—and the winner of Santa Anita is guaranteed entry to the Derby.”

  “Forget the Derby, Fallon. I’m not sure I can even get him into the starting gate again. Don’t you understand that?”

  Fallon pinched her lips together, reminding herself that Travis was the professional. She’d begged for his help. Ignoring him had caused them to end up here—with Dreamer injured.

  If she was being honest with herself, she hadn’t entered Dreamer because of her grandmother. She’d been angry with Travis for being so dismissive after they’d made love. For making her feel used. In a way, she had been testing Travis, reminding him who called the final shots, as least in this part of their relationship.

  She nodded, defeat slumping her shoulders.

  “Good.” He turned to walk away, stopping as he reached the doorway. “One more thing. I don’t want you there while I work with him. If you aren’t there, you can’t interfere.”

  Chapter 22

  April

  Travis galloped Dreamer across the field. After weeks of being confined to a stall, then several more of slow rehabilitation, Dreamer couldn’t wait to stretch his legs. Loosening the reins, Travis felt the colt pick up more speed, his stride eating up the turf. He was fast, and he wasn’t running full-out yet.

  Slowing the colt, Travis cued him to walk as they returned to the pasture near the house. The other horses whinnied in greeting and he could hear Bubba braying. Nothing more than the noises he’d grown accustomed to over the past very quiet eight weeks.

  Sure, he’d visited with Marco and a few of the field workers who remained on the vineyard, but they were busy. Unlike him. Travis rose early and fed all the animals, even though they weren’t his responsibility. Even with his double workouts, Travis could only do so much with Dreamer. The rest of the time he wandered the property, trying to find anything to keep him busy. Anything to keep his mind off Fallon.

  Nothing worked.

  He couldn’t count the number of times he’d typed a message, asking her about her day or whether she might come visit the vineyard, only to delete it without sending. Sure, he’d texted her pictures and kept her informed with updates on Dreamer’s progress, but they were the same sort of things he would send to any owner whose horse he was training.

  But Fallon was different and Travis couldn’t deny it. And yet, he’d been the one who put up this wall between them in the weeks leading up to the El Camino Real. Once they’d made love, he couldn’t pretend she was just his boss. And he didn’t want to be a one-night stand to her.

  He wanted to be more.

  More than he’d ever deserve, especially from someone like Fallon. It didn’t stop him from missing the way she’d meet him at the round pen in the morning. The way she smiled, looking up at him shyly through her lashes. The way she whispered his name like a prayer when he touched her.

  He was an idiot.

  Dismounting to open the gate, Travis spotted the car parked in front of the main house. Marco had mentioned that Fallon’s brother, Gabe, had been called away again and wouldn’t be returning for another few months. Apparently, he’d been wrong.

  As the woman exited the driver’s seat of the sparkling new Audi, her long legs made his mouth go dry. Blond waves swung loose at the waist of her skirt, fitted to show off luscious curves that his body instantly recognized.

  Dreamer whinnied loudly, as if he also recognized the person slowly turning toward them. Fallon’s smile widened, but then quickly fell. That reaction had to be because of him. Taking a deep breath and rebuilding the wall around his heart so she didn’t see straight through it, Travis walked up to her.

  “I’m surprised to see you.” The words came out far more antagonistic than he meant them to.

  “I…” She bit her lip, then squared her shoulders, standing straighter. She probably remembered who employed whom, something he wished he could forget. “The Santa Anita Derby is next week. I’m surprised to see him out.”

  She ran her hands over the colt, her palm sliding over his coat. Squatting down to inspect his injured leg, she glanced up at Travis. “It looks good. You can barely see where he cut it.”

  “He’s fine. With a couple more days of prep work, you’ll see a different horse at the track.”

  She rose to face him, looking concerned yet oddly smug. “And you? How have you managed the past few months?”

  I’ve felt alone. I’ve missed you. Been wanting you, even though I know it’s what I could never have.

  “It’s been perfect.”

  “Good.”

  But the sentiment didn’t quite reach her eyes. In fact, the flicker of disappointment made him feel like Dreamer had kicked him in the gut.

  Chapter 23

  Perfect?

  That had been the last thing Fallon wanted to hear. She’d hoped that he might have missed her, at least a little bit. Especially after the many texts he’d sent her over the past two months, a
ll cautiously friendly. Apparently, she’d mistaken professionalism for friendliness. Like a fool, she’d thought he might want her to return, might want more than this working relationship they had.

  Well, you were wrong, again.

  They stood in silence as Travis studied her so intently she began to feel like a specimen under a microscope.

  “Well…good,” she repeated. She turned and opened the trunk to retrieve her bag. He watched her tug at it, struggling to lift it from the back of the car.

  “Here.” Travis reached forward, lifting the suitcase effortlessly, although she knew for a fact it had to weigh at least fifty pounds. “What’s in here? Boulders?”

  “Shoes, clothes.” She shrugged. “Necessities.”

  “Ah.” His head bobbed but she could see the lopsided smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

  “I’m having dinner delivered. Why don’t you join me and update me on Dreamer?”

  He looked suddenly uneasy. “I’ve got a routine and I’d rather not jinx it this close to a race.”

  “Jinx it,” she repeated. He was obviously avoiding her. “Okay, then I guess I’ll get my things inside and you can update me tomorrow.”

  She turned her back on him, refusing to let him see how much his rejection hurt. Again. She wouldn’t continue putting herself out there only to have him turn her away.

  She was Fallon Radcliffe, damn it. Maybe it was time she started acting like it.

  He was a coward, plain and simple.

  Travis’s stomach growled viciously as the caterer pulled out of the driveway. He could go over to Marco’s place and mooch dinner off him or head into town and grab a burger. But all he wanted to do was accept Fallon’s invitation.

  He was still kicking himself for the hurt he’d seen in her face, knowing he’d been the cause of it. Travis ran a hand through his hair and clenched his jaw. If nothing else, he owed her an explanation for the cold shoulder he’d been giving her.

  Travis took a deep breath and rolled his shoulders back, forcing himself to choke back his sense of self-preservation. Then made his way to the house, finally willing to share the demons he’d been facing for so long. He raised his hand, but before he knocked on the door, it opened.

  “Oh!” Fallon jumped backward, nearly dropping the plate she held in her hands.

  “Sorry, I…” He wasn’t sure what to say. “I came up to talk to you.”

  “Come in. I was about to bring this dish out to you.” Fallon stepped backward, letting him inside.

  The perfect hostess, always knowing exactly what to say and do. Even when he’d been a dick and hurt her. “Fallon, I need to explain.”

  “No.” She shook her head, tossing her long waves over her shoulders and turning away. “You really don’t. I saw that you didn’t leave for dinner and didn’t want you to go hungry.”

  He noticed that she didn’t meet his gaze. “Fallon?”

  She glanced at him over her shoulder. “So, Dreamer’s really improved, huh? You think he’s ready for the race?”

  Travis followed her into the dining room where she slid his plate onto the table. “Fallon, stop.”

  He’d come here prepared to tell her his story. He was ready to explain why he’d pushed her away, why she deserved so much better than him, and why the night they’d spent together had been a mistake and couldn’t happen again.

  She froze in place, her hands on the table, as if trying to brace herself for whatever he might say next. His hands slid to her arms as he moved closer, the heat from her body burning him through his shirt. The scent of her invaded his senses, making him dizzy with desire for her. Dropping her head forward, he heard her sharp intake of breath. But then her back stiffened against him and she moved away.

  “No, I’m not doing this again.” She turned around, wrapping her arms around her waist. “You can’t have it both ways, Travis. There’s no revolving door here.”

  “I know.” His hands gripped the back of one of the chairs, needing something to distract him. “You deserve more than this.”

  “What is this? I can’t figure you out. Do you even care about me?”

  “It’s not about you. You—you’re perfect. But me…look, I told you I grew up at the track, but I didn’t tell you why.” He lifted his eyes to meet hers. A small part of him prayed she’d accept him despite his past, but he knew to expect the worst. “My father was an addict, and his drug of choice was the horses. I could read a racing form before I read chapter books in school.” He shook his head, disgusted by how he’d been raised. “I learned math by making and collecting side bets for my father.” Travis scrubbed a hand over his face. Just admitting this story from his past made him sick. “The man was either placing bets or drinking whatever money came in from the few he won.”

  “Travis.” Fallon reached out a hand, but he jerked away. Her touch burned, and right now he had to get it all out. Then she’d understand why they couldn’t be together—maybe agree with him—and he could bury the past again.

  “Buck was the only person who knew. He saw me sleeping in the barn one night after my father lost a crap-ton of money. He’d gotten blitzed and forgot me at the track. Or got arrested, who knows. It was the last time I saw him.” He shrugged, and a bitter laugh escaped him. “No one even looked for me. But Buck took me in, raised me from the time I was eight years old.”

  “You lied,” she said quietly. “That story about the puddle.”

  “No, that happened on the same night—that was why I was in his barn in the first place.” He glanced down at his hands, gripping the chair so tightly that his knuckles had turned white. Letting go, Travis willed himself to not let Fallon realize how important her reaction was to him.

  He shrugged a single shoulder. “Now you realize why this can’t happen. I’m a nobody. Literally. I didn’t even have a real identity until I got my driver’s license and that was only because Buck helped me. Pitied me.”

  Fallon rolled her lips inward and studied him. He let out a slow exhale, preparing to leave.

  “I never meant to hurt you, Fallon, and that’s why you need to know. I’m not good enough for you.” He turned away, back toward the doorway. “I’ll pack my things.”

  “What? No.” She moved forward, reaching for his arm and spinning him to face her, colliding against his chest. “You can’t leave.”

  Unable to help himself, his hands slid up the length of her arms, cupping the smooth curve of her cheek. “I can’t stay.”

  “Travis,” she began. A slow, sweet smile spread over her lips. “You promised to help Dreamer, to prove to the world he’s more than the long-shot everyone thinks he is.” Her hands moved up his chest to circle his neck and he felt his entire body tense. “Both of you have so much to offer. You can’t give up so easily.”

  “Facing the reality of limitations isn’t giving up.”

  Fallon stood on her toes, her lips brushing against his. “Your version of reality is flawed. Let me help you see mine.”

  After she tugged him down toward her, Travis gave in, wanting—no, needing—what Fallon offered him. Her mouth captured his, her fingers delving into the thick waves of his hair, pulling him closer as her tongue swept against his. Their kisses grew more frantic, hungry, and desperate. His pulse raced; blood pounded in his ears. He ached to fill her again.

  Hell, who was he kidding? This wasn’t just a physical need. He was falling for Fallon, hard.

  He let his lips find the curve of her jaw, the racing pulse throbbing at the side of her throat. He relished the sweet sigh of his name on her lips. “You deserve so much more than I can give you, Fallon.”

  She drew back from him, looking deeply into his eyes. Hers were soft with yearning, completely vulnerable and open, revealing her heart to him. “I don’t want anything more than you, Travis. No matter what that is.”

  “You don’t care about—”

  “I care,” she whispered. “But only because it’s made you who you are today. We’re shaped by our p
asts, but they don’t have to define us. We choose who we become.” She cupped his face, forcing him to look into her eyes. “We both can.”

  He couldn’t believe this incredible woman wanted him, even though she’d seen the baggage he dragged along. “You’re sure?”

  Her sultry smile returned. “Don’t ask me again.” She took a step away from him, her fingers reaching for the buttons on her blouse. Walking backward, she edged her way toward the hall, dropping her shirt from her arms. “You should probably come see how certain I am.”

  He wasn’t dumb enough to ask again.

  Chapter 24

  The trip down to the Santa Anita track before the race was a blur. Travis had insisted on driving Dreamer down to keep an eye on the colt and she insisted on riding with him. It had been worth taking nearly twelve hours to complete the seven-hour trip to see Dreamer prancing playfully when they walked him to the barn. He was completely fresh thanks to the stops they’d made along the route for him to stretch his legs. Unlike her, he’d arrived with energy to spare.

  But it had been nice to fall asleep against Travis’s shoulder and to spend the night in his arms, even if it had been in a run-of-the-mill motel. In fact, since his confession to her, they’d come to an unspoken understanding. There were no discussions about their pasts or futures beyond the Derby.

  She hadn’t told him about her grandmother’s demands—that she sell Dreamer and walk away from horse racing—or that she’d given in to her grandmother’s pressure to return to the family business. For now, she wanted to bask in the warmth of spending her days working alongside Travis, and her nights making love to him. It was a fantasy that she knew would come crumbling down eventually, but for the time being, they were both content to pretend it would never end.