Camila almost laughed out loud as Michaela looked up with wide eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m not used to tall men.”
Jackson laughed as did the two men behind him. “It’s nice to meet you.” Jackson held out his hand that completely swallowed Mike’s. “And these are my partners, Lucas Sharpe and Talon Bainbridge.”
“Why, you’re cuter than a baby polar bear and probably fiercer than its momma when you race. I can see it,” Lucas said with a foppish grin.
Jackson and Talon just shook their heads at their teammate.
“What are you guys doing in town?” Wyatt asked as they all took a seat at a larger table.
“Came for the races. We have a couple days off and thought it would be fun to cheer on my cousins.”
“And I’m not your friend? I’m hurt. Truly.”
Camila turned around to see Zain, Gabe, and a man she didn’t know. Suddenly the door to the café was flung open and Nikki burst through. Her eyes scanned the café and stopped on the man next to Gabe, although it was hard to tell since her eyelids were weighted down with those mink extensions.
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” Mike whispered on a shocked inhale.
Nikki composed herself and sashayed toward the man. Her breasts and butt moved in a way that was hypnotic, especially since the small strappy sundress she had on barely contained her body.
“Your majesty,” Nikki purred and executed a curtsy that managed to flash the street at the same time her boob popped out.
“Have you ever seen a breast so big? It’s like a piñata. If it pops, will candy come out?” Mike asked as everyone stared transfixed.
“Wait, did she say majesty?” Camila asked.
“His Royal Highness, King Draven of Bermalia,” Nikki snapped before turning her eyes back up to the king even as her breast dangled in plain view. “It’s such an honor to see you again. It was so lovely seeing you at your palace last month, but it’s just as lovely seeing you here.”
“Please stand,” the king said as he backed away from her. Nikki stood and so did her breast before she looked down and laughed.
“Oh, how embarrassing.” She pulled the fabric across her breast as she giggled. “Would you allow me to join you for breakfast?”
“Um,” the king said, looking at Zain and Gabe for an answer.
“Sorry, we’re presently engaged for breakfast,” Zain said smoothly. “But I am sure we will see you very soon.”
Nikki pouted and looked confused when she met Michaela’s eyes. Zain, Gabe, and King Draven took the last open seats at the table. In fact, the king smooshed his way into the table to avoid Nikki.
“What are you?” Nikki said with a sneer aimed at Mike.
“I know what I am, but what are you?” Mike asked as her head came up to Nikki’s beach balls.
“You’re so little.”
“I’m a jockey,” Mike answered. Mike’s hand began to drift upward. She was about to poke Nikki’s boobs. Camila reached over and grabbed her hand.
“Oh, I like riding, too. Only I ride men instead of horses.”
And with that, Nikki winked at the king, turned, and sashayed her ass out of the café.
Draven let out a breath. “She makes the royal member very nervous.”
“Draven, this is Camila Callahan. She’s Wyatt’s trainer. Camila, this is Draven. He’s visiting for, um, lessons.”
“I have a horse with a Sean Callahan,” he said as shook her hand.
Camila didn’t answer. Instead, she turned to Mike. “And this is my jockey, Michaela Donahue.”
Draven laughed. “How funny. My jockey’s last name is Donahue. But they’re over in the UK right now.”
“Imagine that,” Mike said with a grin as she winked at Camila.
“What lessons are you here for?” Camila asked.
“Go on,” Zain prompted Draven. “This will be good practice.”
Draven took a deep breath and Mike and Camila looked questioningly at each other. What was going on?
“It is a pleasure to meet you. I am honored that you have allowed me to join you for breakfast. If it pleases you, could I order you some coffee?” Draven asked sincerely. Were they playing a joke on her? What was going on?
Zain narrowed his eyes at Camila and bobbed his chin to get her to answer. “Coffee sounds lovely. Thank you.”
Draven smiled and high-fived Gabe.
The conversation flowed after that and breakfast was great. The café filled and Camila was once again caught up in the community of Keeneston—the greetings, the wishes of good luck, and the “how ya doing” small talk. Her soul had needed this. The love and support gave her courage to turn herself over to Sydney.
“Oh, Michaela!” Sydney gasped when she met the jockey. “I have the perfect outfit for you. Do you have a sponsor?”
“Sponsor?” Michaela asked as if it were a foreign word.
“Yes, a sponsor. I’d love for you to wear Syd, Inc. I can whip a patch up for your silks if you agree to it.”
Camila smiled and nodded encouragingly as Mike looked on wide-eyed. “I’d love a sponsor.”
“Great!” Sydney bubbled over. Little Van was asleep in a sling she was wearing, her long blonde hair pulled back into a sloppy bun. She was in a summer dress, flip-flops and makeup-free. You’d never know she was a very successful businesswoman. “I have so many ideas for you both. First to my house and then to Aunt Paige’s for the perfect hat. Wyatt, I’m stealing them for the day.”
Camila had one moment to wave goodbye as Draven stood up. “It was a pleasure making the acquaintance of such beautiful and intelligent women.”
“Um, thanks,” Camila called out as Syd dragged her away.
“And if you ever need a jockey on this side of the pond, you can give me a call,” Michaela said, handing him her card.
“I will, thank you.” Draven turned to Zain and Gabe as they walked out and high-fived the brothers. “I didn’t offer them to gaze upon my royal member once.”
Sydney snorted as they walked out onto the sidewalk and met up with Blythe. “Oh, you must come, too!”
“Come to what?” Blythe asked.
“Sydney is dressing us for the races,” Camila answered.
“I’ll drive,” Blythe said happily.
* * *
“This is the perfect hat,” Paige Davies Parker said from inside her shop on Main Street.
Camila put on the sleek and elegant fascinator. It was navy blue and would match her white and navy dress to perfection.
“And for tomorrow, with Picking Daisies, you have to have this hat,” Paige said, handing her a fun pale yellow hat with a large daisy on the back and yellow and white ribbon hanging down.
“These are amazing,” Camila said, looking in the mirror. Then the curtain opened and Mike stepped out. She was in slim-cut jeans and a silk spaghetti-strap top with coral, blue, and white chevron.
“You have breasts,” Blythe said in shock.
“I know, they’re poking out. It’s like they’re trying to escape,” she said, pushing them down with her hands.
“Own ’em, Mike,” Syd told her from where she was using Paige’s sewing machine. “I have your measurements and will be bringing you a whole bunch of clothes tomorrow.”
The door opened and Deacon came in. “Ladies, you look lovely.”
“Thank you,” Blythe answered for them as she took off the hat Paige had picked out for her.
“Here’s the check you asked for,” Deacon said to his wife as he kissed her on the forehead. Sydney barely looked up from the sewing machine as she signed it.
“Give it to Mike.”
“Mike?” Deacon said, looking around.
Mike cleared her throat and stepped forward. “Short for Michaela. I reckoned it was more American sounding than Mick.”
“Got it. Here you go.”
Mike looked down at the check and then her head shot up. “What’s this?”
“Your sponsorship check,” Sydney answered, cutting
the string and pulling the silks from the machine. Instead of using Mike’s old ones, Sydney had insisted on making new ones.
“I thought you just wanted me to wear the silks.”
“And the clothes. During your press conference, you can wear any of my clothes. Try these on.”
Michaela giggled then and ran back into the room. A minute later she emerged in her racing silks. Down each leg of her white pants read SYD in bright green. The pants also fit much better than her old pair.
Her eyes glowed as she looked right at Camila. “We’re so winning tomorrow.”
Camila already felt like a winner. Winning tomorrow would be icing on the cake.
19
Camila watched as Bud got Daisy ready. He brushed her down, gave her a carrot, and began his pre-race tradition of singing country music to her as he rubbed her muscles. Daisy practically moaned as she stretched her neck and shook her head.
“I am so lucky.”
Camila turned as Wyatt’s arms wrapped around her waist and rested on her hips. “I haven’t won yet,” Camila joked.
Wyatt shook his head. “Win or lose, I’m lucky because you came into my life.” He leaned down and placed his lips softly on hers. His arms tightened, pulling her closer as he deepened the kiss. Slowly he pulled back, looked at her, and whispered what he wanted to do with her tonight. Camila blushed. She loved this side of him she had all to herself. Her own slightly naughty gentleman.
“Camila, I’ve wanted to tell you for so long,” Wyatt said seriously a moment later. Camila held her breath. Tell her what?
“I—” Wyatt started to say before her phone interrupted them.
“It’s my dad,” Camila said with a sigh.
“Go ahead,” Wyatt said with a nervous smile at the same time Bud called him over to ask a question about Daisy.
“Hi, Da,” Camila said when she answered.
“Hello, a stóirín,” his voice was warm and familiar. He’d always called her his little treasure since she was born. “Did your boss let you go to the Bourbon Cup?”
“Yes, Da,” Camila said with a smile. Her father still thought she was just working in the office. “I am at the barn now.”
“Tell me about this trainer your boss has? Who is C.C. Callahan?”
Camila swallowed hard and tried not to let the nerves sound in her voice. “Good trainer. Done a lot with the horses in a short amount of time.”
“He’s not some long-lost relative is he?” her dad asked with a laugh.
Camila laughed too but didn’t answer.
“Good luck to your horses today. I’m watching the telecast to make sure I don’t need to steal the trainer away,” her father joked, but Camila wasn’t sure it really was a joke. “Who is the jockey?”
“Michaela Donahue,” Camila answered after a brief pause. Her father would know as soon as he looked in the program anyway so it wasn’t as if she could hide it.
Her father sucked in his breath. “Her father is going to be so upset. She should listen to him and stop chasing his footsteps. You finally learned that. You should talk to her about it.”
“I will do no such thing. Mike is an amazing jockey. I would even wager she’s better than her father,” Camila said hotly.
“Bollocks,” her father cursed before launching into his usual, tired refrain about “a daughter’s role in the family.”
“You just wait and see,” Camila said, cutting off the lecture. “If her father wasn’t so medieval in thought, he’d see his daughter has the potential to be not only the top female jockey but the top jockey period.”
“Horse racing is no . . .”
“No place for a woman, yeah, I hear you even if I don’t agree with you.” Camila took a deep breath. “Look, Da, I have to go. The race is starting soon and I want to get up to the box.”
“Good luck to your boss today,” her dad said, dropping the lecture.
“I’ll be sure to tell him. Love you.”
“Love you, too, a stóirín,” her father replied before they hung up.
“You okay?” Mike asked, coming over in her new silks.
“My dad.”
“No need to say anything more. I got one of those calls today as well.”
“And?” Camila asked as Mike’s smile grew wider.
“And it makes me even more determined to win. It’ll see you in the winner’s circle.” Mike winked at her and gave Blythe a high five before Bud lifted her into the saddle.
“Ladies, shall we go the box?” Wyatt asked as he wiped his suddenly very red lips with the back of his hand before holding out his arms for her and Blythe to take.
The walk to the box was crowded, with everyone clad in bright sundresses, colorful ties, and seersucker suits. Bourbon was in every glass as a roar went up from the tens of thousands of people cheering on their picks.
“Dr. Davies!”
Camila and Blythe both turned to the sound of a man calling out to Wyatt. “I’ll meet you two in the box. This will just take a minute,” Wyatt said, but waiting before both she and Blythe said it was okay for him to go.
“The boxes are all full today,” Blythe said, scanning the grandstand. “Are we going to have a place to sit?”
“Wyatt said we’re squeezing into extra chairs in the Ashton Farm and Desert Sun boxes. See, there’s two in Ashton’s box and one in Desert Sun’s. And I see King Draven rented the box next to Desert Sun’s so there’s plenty of space,” Camila said as they approached from behind the boxes.
“Admit it. You can only think straight when I’m around,” a man in a shiny iridescent suit said to Veronica with a wink.
“I want to melt in her mouth, not in your hands,” Veronica said back.
“I have oral arguments tomorrow. Why don’t you sit back and let me know how I do?”
“Just like every guy here, take a number and wait forever,” Veronica said with a laugh.
“Is that Veronica’s husband? I didn’t know she was married,” Blythe asked.
“No, that’s not her husband. That’s Henry Rooney. He’s Keeneston’s defense attorney and worst pick-up artist, though he only does it jokingly. The attractive woman shaking her head is his wife, Neely Grace.” Camila paused. “I don’t know if Veronica has a husband.”
At that moment, Veronica flipped her blonde hair and saw them. “Hey, ladies!”
Henry turned and his smiled widened. “You must be a parking ticket because you have fine written all over you.”
Veronica shook her head. “You’re doing it all wrong.”
“As if you could do better,” Henry said with a chuckle of disbelief.
Veronica stood up and crooked her finger at Blythe. Blythe looked at Camila who just shrugged before taking the last couple of steps over to the box. Veronica slowly traced her thumb over Blythe’s lower lip, now parted in surprise. “Your lips are like wine and tonight I want to get drunk on them.”
“Damn, Veronica. That about turned me,” Neely Grace said as she used her hand to fan her face.
Henry crossed his arms and slumped in his chair. “It wasn’t anything special.”
Blythe still hadn’t moved, and for that matter, Veronica’s thumb was still slowly tracing Blythe’s lip. “Can I get you a drink?” Veronica asked, her voice low and sultry.
Blythe nodded, still rooted in place. “I need a virgin.”
Henry sputtered and even Veronica stumbled.
“I mean, the drink. I’m on duty.” Blythe turned bright red as everyone in the box laughed.
“What’s going on?” Wyatt whispered in Camila’s ear as he came up behind her.
King Draven was pounding his fist into his thigh as he looked up at the sky, taking deep breaths. “Don’t say it, don’t say it. Oh, I have to say it.”
“Control, Draven!” Zain snapped.
“Control what?” Addison Rooney, Henry’s daughter, asked as she entered the box with a glass of bourbon. Addison was in her mid-twenties and had the professional and polished look of
her mother with none of her father’s loveable sleaze.
Draven froze with his hand halfway down to his pants. His eyes were wild as they went from Veronica to Blythe to Addison. “Drinks! I insist on getting everyone drinks.”
Draven pushed his way from the box and took off down the corridor toward the bar, muttering the whole way. Three-way and royal member were the two phrases Camila could pick out.
“I’ll be right back,” Veronica said a little shyly now. “I don’t trust Draven with anything virgin.”
“I feel as if I missed something,” Addison said finally.
“Your father was doing his pick-up lines with Veronica,” Neely Grace said, shaking her head.
“Dad, did you really think you were going to overwhelm Veronica with your pick-up lines so that she’d suddenly decide to go straight? What then?”
“It had nothing to do with turning her straight. I like her just as she is. I was just saying I could pick up women better than she can.”
Blythe clutched Camila’s arm. “Veronica? Um . . . she . . .”
“Likes the fillies and apparently has better pick-up lines than I do,” Henry said, returning his pout.
“You didn’t know?” Addison asked with wide eyes. “I thought everyone knew.”
Camila and Blythe shook their heads.
“Veronica will totally understand about you not wanting the drink. You didn’t know,” Neely Grace said kindly.
“Is my lipstick okay?” Blythe asked Camila, ignoring Neely Grace. “Do I have time for a wax? Do you know how long it’s been since I was on a date? Wait, this is drinks, not a date. Am I moving too fast?”
“Calm down, Blythe. Here they come,” Camila whispered as she and Wyatt sat behind Carter and Reagan who were barely containing their shocked expressions.
“Honey, why don’t we sit with Draven?” Neely Grace asked, grabbing Henry’s arm and pulling him into the next box. “Somehow I think he’ll appreciate your lines.”
“Here, let me help you,” Addison said, taking some drinks from Draven’s hands. Camila saw her look around and note Draven’s security before passing out the drinks.
“I got you a cranberry and sprite,” Veronica said, steeling her back and handing Blythe the drink. “It’s pretty like you are.”
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