by J. P. Oliver
It felt as though we had somehow switched roles. Reece was suddenly the one consumed by business. The difference was, I was Reece’s business. As self-centered as that might be, maybe I needed to remind him of that.
I brought Bondage back inside the barn, put on his halter and removed the rest of his tack. Reece was outside the tack room door talking to Ricky.
“Let’s set a couple of triple combinations. That seems to be Satin’s bogeyman at the moment. You’ve got the striding, right?”
“Yeah. I’ll get started.”
I waited until Ricky had left before putting Bondage in his stall so he could eat some hay.
“You have a minute?” I asked Reece.
He glanced toward the ring. “Sure.”
“I kind of got the feeling just now in that lesson that I was imposing, that you had more important things to take care of.”
Reece’s gaze locked on mine, his brows furrowed. “We both have deadlines approaching Whitt. The Maysburg show is this Saturday.”
“So that’s an excuse to blow me off? You want to be all about business, and I want to figure out what exactly is going on with us.”
Reece glared at me now, his blue eyes colder than I had ever seen them. “If you want to know about us, Whitt, maybe you should talk to me instead of checking on me with former clients.” So Reece had found out about my conversation with Jordy. He raked a hand through his hair. For an instant I saw a flash of pain in his expression. Then it was gone. “Of course, I keep forgetting. We’re only a couple right here on the estate. Anywhere else I’m just your trainer.”
Okay. Now I felt defensive, not the position I wanted to be in. “That’s not fair. You know I have a lot hanging on this deal with Maitland. I’ve explained that.”
“So you’ve told me. Look, this isn’t getting us anywhere, and I have a lot to do this week.”
He brushed past me and stalked out to the ring. It was all I could do not to grab his arm and spin him around. I wanted to get this settled, hated feeling as insecure as I did right now. Damn it. I wasn’t about to be put off, but I wasn’t going to come across as hysterical either. As soon as I had my temper under control, I followed him, leaning against the rail as I watched Ricky and him move jumps, rebuilding them in different patterns from what we had been using for my lesson. What they were setting up looked monstrously huge. I watched in silence, waiting for my opportunity.
Reece was right about one thing. We both had a lot on our plates. This show was important to him. My deal with Maitland was my main focus. We were tired and tense. Something had to give. After a few minutes, Reece glanced over, saw I was still there, and headed in my direction.
My chest hurt as I watched him. He had gotten closer—physically and emotionally—to me than anyone in such a long time. But right now, this wasn’t working for either one of us, and I was about to make it so much worse.
He leaned his elbows on the top rail of the ring, scraping his hair back with one hand. He looked as tired as I felt. “What’s going on, Whitt? You obviously still have something on your mind.”
I dug my hands in my pockets, swallowing against the thickness clogging my throat. “I thought about what you said. You’re right.”
“About?” His look was weary and disheartened.
“We both have deadlines approaching, things that are critical for us. Maybe it would be best if we cooled it for a while until we both have time to talk and figure things out.”
His mouth tightened. He matched his mental withdrawal with a physical one, taking a step back from the fence and jamming his hands in his pockets just like me. He shook his head slightly as he stared at me.
“You’re the boss.”
With that, he turned and walked away.
I wanted to call him back, but it seemed pretty obvious that I was into this way more than Reece had ever been. I wondered how long it would be before he picked up and left.
And how long it would be before I could put it behind me.
20
Reece
Working Satin through the triples that Ricky and I had set in the ring helped me take my mind off Whitt, but only temporarily. And not in a good way. After the high of our success in Lexington, today’s work had been one blow up after another. Not only had Satin and I accomplished nothing, I felt as though we had regressed. So I left the ring and gave her a chance to blow off a little steam with a gallop along the grass trails. I cooled her and turned her over to Ricky to get her settled for the night.
I was tired, mentally and physically. And now I had to deal with the other part of my life headed down the toilet. I felt overwhelmed. Something had to give. Whitt had mentioned cooling things off, but I wasn’t sure how long he meant…or how much.
I had my answer when I went upstairs. I turned automatically toward the master suite, but as soon as I entered, I could see the belongings I had left on the bureau were no longer there. In an instant, all the breath whooshed from my body. Shit. Confusion made me slow to react for a moment. Turning on my heel, I crossed to the other side of the wide hall to the room that I had been using.
There, on the golden oak bureau were my personal items. I opened a drawer. My clothes were neatly folded. Same thing with the closet. I leaned heavily on the door jamb as I tried to take it in, tried to understand exactly what was happening.
Cooling things off apparently meant kicking me out of his room. My heart pounded as the next logical question followed quickly on that observation. How much longer before he dumped me altogether?
But oh, this was going to hurt so much more than losing a client. In my heart of hearts, I had been glad to see the backside of Jordy Edgerton. I had no wish to repeat that with Whitt—and he was so much more than a client.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, I slumped forward, my elbows on my knees and my hands clasped around the back of my neck. As I stared at the floor, my vision blurred. If this day was any gauge, not only was I going to fail with my horse on Saturday, I was going to lose the man I’d fallen in love with.
I was so stupid. I knew better than to get involved with clients. It never turned out well. But this was a disaster I didn’t think I could fix. Any attempt I made would only seem as though I were trying to save the steady paycheck and the fringe benefits being here provided.
I slipped back downstairs. The door to Whitt’s office was closed, though I could see a light from beneath the door. Tempted for a moment to confront him, I finally shook my head, chickened out, and turned toward the kitchen, Ripper trotting along with me.
“Maybe Mrs. Knowles has left us some food. A bottle of whiskey along with it might do the trick.” Ripper tilted his head as if trying to figure out what I might want with whiskey.
Sleep would be nice, but I had a feeling nothing was going to help with that tonight. I had gotten used to Whitt’s arms in record time.
The following morning didn’t change anything, not my mood, and not the fact that I was no longer welcome in Whitt’s bed.
It was Ricky’s day off, so I was at the barn extra early, feeding and cleaning stalls. I had about finished when I heard the crunch of footsteps coming from the drive into the barn aisle.
Maybe Whitt had changed his mind, decided we needed to go ahead and clear the air. I could tell him how I felt, but when I stepped from the stall into the light of the barn aisle, it was Sherry Rowland approaching.
I braced my pitchfork against the wall. “Morning, Sherry. You’re up and about early.”
She sat on a couple of hay bales sitting along the opposite side of the aisle as though she were getting ready for a lengthy chat. I was ready for the insulated coffee mug and its contents that I had left in my office, not for conversation with a woman whose motives I thought were somewhat questionable.
“I had some things on my mind and was out for a walk when I noticed the lights on. Ricky off today?”
“Yeah. I think he’s spending some quality time with his girlfriend.”
“That’s part
of what’s on my mind.”
“Ricky’s girlfriend?”
She looked at me archly. “You and your boyfriend.”
I kept my expression carefully blank. “My boyfriend?”
Sherry held my gaze. “Don’t play dumb, Reece. Maitland knows. It’s making the rounds in town how Whitt’s got you living at the house, buying you clothes and horses. Throwing money at you like it’s going out of style.”
“Is there a point to this, Sherry?” I asked, forcing a bored tone into my voice.
“I’m wondering if I should tell Whitt. You know Maitland’s reputation. There’s a good chance he could back out of the deal Whitt’s working on.”
I took my pitchfork back in hand, a clear signal this conversation was over as far as I was concerned. But it was Sherry Rowland, so she might need an additional hint.
“I think you should do whatever you think is best, Sherry, but in the meantime, I have work to get done. Have a nice day.”
I went back to picking the manure out of the stall and tossing it into the wheelbarrow until I was sure she had left the barn and continued on to her own house. At least, I hoped that’s where she was headed. A discouraged sigh left me, and I leaned against the wall.
I was so close to realizing my dream, but if any portion of what she’d shared was true, staying here any longer might screw up everything I wanted and what Whitt had worked to achieve as well. I still didn’t think Maitland would be so homophobic in this day and age, but could I really afford to take the chance and ruin everything Whitt had busted his ass to accomplish?
Whitt
I had tossed and turned all night long, wanting like hell to cross the house and have it out with Reece, and demand to know if there was any truth to everything I’d been told. But I hung back. I wasn’t going to humiliate myself.
I needed to do what I’d suggested. Once these deadlines were past and the tension eased, we’d talk, work things out.
So, I tried to play it cool when I arrived at the barn for my morning ride. Bondage and Trixie were both out in cross ties. Reece already had the big mare saddled and was knocking the dust off my gelding.
“I can do that,” I said turning to the grooming caddy to grab a brush.
“I got this. Grab his tack. I thought we’d make a round through this older part of the hunt territory. Pick up the pace some so you can get a better feel for what you’ll be doing Sunday.”
All this was delivered without him ever once looking at me. I couldn’t help the stab of hurt that shot through me. I put the brush back, opened my mouth to demand we talk, but shut it again. If this was the way he wanted to play it, fine. I would go along with it even if it made my heart ache. No one had ever had the power to hurt me the way Reece had managed in such a short time. I had never let anyone get that close. Until now.
The ride was an hour and a half of torture, at least from a personal perspective. I wasn’t the loner I had been just a short time ago, and the man pushing me away was the very one responsible for bringing me out of that shell. Yet Reece was cool and business-like. Could he really turn off his feelings that fast? I followed his lead and fell into my former comfort zone of isolation. It wasn’t comfortable anymore. Being with Reece had changed me, but I wasn’t sure how to make him see that.
His remoteness said more clearly than any words that all I was to him was his boss. For a little while I had actually felt human. I had laughed and loved, but when it came right down to it, making money was apparently the only thing at which I excelled.
“Keep your mind on what you’re doing, Whitt!” Reece snapped. “You have to keep a safe distance between horses at all times. You never know when you’re in the hunt field when you will have to ask your horse to stop on a dime.”
I had been so lost in my own misery, I had nearly let Bondage rear-end Trixie. It was only the horse’s experience that had saved me.
“Sorry.”
“Apologies aren’t going to cut it if you injure another horse or run over a hound.”
“I said I was fucking sorry,” I snapped. “I’ll pay more attention.”
Silence stretched between us, long and tense. We had been riding hard and steam rose from our mounts. There was enough of a chill in the air this morning that our breaths came out in small puffs of mist too. Maybe this was it. Maybe we would finally have it out and clear the air so we could move on.
Reece’s jaw was hard, his expression even more remote, and my hope died. “You lead. Most of the time you’ll be following other people, but you should be confident you can put your horse at a fence without someone going first.”
So that was it. He was the teacher. I was the client. There was nothing else.
For the remainder of the ride, I forced myself to concentrate only on my horse and what I was doing. Reece occasionally made suggestions, and I followed them without comment. As we walked the last quarter mile back to the barn, I kept my face slightly averted, studying the pastures and the changing leaves on the trees. Anything that would keep Reece from seeing the devastation I wasn’t sure I could hold back.
For fuck’s sake, I was a businessman who negotiated world-class business deals that had made me millions of dollars, but when it came to figuring my way out of this morass, I couldn’t do it. It wasn’t that I had no clue what it would take.
I just couldn’t do it.
Reece was the first one to speak when we got back to the barn. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to push our afternoon lesson back about an hour. With Ricky off today, my schedule’s pretty tight.”
I gave him a cool look over Bondage’s back as I loosened the girth. “I need to cancel this afternoon anyway. I have some phone calls and a teleconference scheduled.”
I’m not sure what I had hoped to see in his expression. Regret? Disappointment? What I saw was relief, and it was like a knife going through my chest.
21
Reece
The figures in front of me in the account ledger for the barn kept blurring. Tired, I tried to convince myself as I rubbed at my eyes for the millionth time. I knew the truth, though. I was miserable. Whitt seemed to be miserable too.
The thought nagged at me that maybe if I told him how much I cared, he would suddenly realize how stupid it was to keep hiding what we felt for each other. For fuck’s sake. This was the twenty-first century. Gay men didn’t need to hide in the closet. They got married, had families.
I wanted that too, but it couldn’t happen as long as the man I loved was convinced our relationship needed to be secret.
I looked at the column of figures, totaled them one more time, and wrote the amount in the ledger. The figures were a pittance compared to the amounts Whitt dealt with every day, but they represented the money he had entrusted me to handle, and I wanted him to be able to see I was a good custodian of that money.
I wanted him to see that I could be trusted with our relationship, that I wouldn’t embarrass him, that it was safe to let the world see we were together, a couple.
Leaning back in my chair with a sigh, I glanced at my watch. Almost five. Surely by now he had finished whatever business he had. We could talk. Clear the air. Resolved, I closed everything up in the barn, taking a moment to enjoy the sound of the horses in their stalls munching on their hay, the sound occasionally interspersed by the stomp of a hoof or the swish of a tail.
Enough. I turned off the lights and walked to the house. The light was still on in his office. Through the panes of the French doors, I watched him at his desk, his laptop in front of him. He worked harder than almost anyone I knew. It was easy to see why his doctor had wanted him to find a way to relax. I ached to be able to rub the tension from his shoulders.
I walked around back and came in through the kitchen. After kicking off my boots, I looked at Ripper. “I need you to stay here for a bit, buddy. I want to surprise Whitt, and you’re way too obvious of a vanguard.”
I tossed him a bone to chew on and shut the mudroom door before padding through the
house to Reece’s office.
The door was ajar, and light bled out into the dimly lit hallway. For the first time in several days, I felt a relaxed smile curve my lips. Maybe the crack he’d left in the door was his way of letting me know he was ready to talk. As I approached his office, the quiet of the house made Whitt’s conversation easy to hear.
“You know I will never let my personal life interfere with business,” he was saying to whoever was on the other end of the phone. “Business has always come first.”
I backed away until I could no longer hear him, sitting silently on the bottom step of the curving staircase leading to his bedroom, the place where we had made love.
I was fooling myself. The idea that I could change him, that we could be a couple and make a life together was nothing more than a fantasy. Whitt would do exactly as he had told the person on the phone. He would always put business first so that there would never be any balance in his life.
It wasn’t really even an issue of being open about being gay. It was a matter of priorities.
And I wasn’t it. Nobody was it. Except maybe the current client.
I couldn’t live like that. I wanted more out of life. I needed more than that. Affection. Kindness. Attention. Time. All things that Whitt couldn’t give me.
Whitt was ready to ride with Maitland on Sunday if he chose to do so. I would make sure he had a way to make that happen, but I wouldn’t be there. My job was done. I had taught him to ride, and it was time to go. For my own sanity, I didn’t have a choice.
I walked up the stairs, tossed my belongings into my duffel bag, and padded back down. For a heartbeat, I hesitated outside Whitt’s office. He was still on the phone, discussing pension plan rollovers or some such thing. Money. It all came back to that. He had it and pursued more. I needed it, but not at this price. I walked on.
Ripper seemed happy to see me, although with a bone in his mouth, his greeting was more of a playful growl. I pulled my boots back on and snapped my fingers.
