Out To Get You: An MM Contemporary Romance

by Oliver, J. P.

  I stood and dumped the bucket’s contents down the drain in the wash stall. Behind me, I heard the snaps on the cross ties, followed by the clip-clop of Mac’s hooves as Reece returned him to his stall. Leaning against the wall, I studied Reece. He murmured to Mac, shooed Ripper out of the stall, and latched the door.

  “What kind of man do you find attractive?” I jammed my hands inside the pockets of my breeches as I waited for his answer.

  Only a few feet separated us. Reece paused, the lead rope clutched in both of his hands. His gaze met mine, his expression serious. “I would want someone who could share my interests. Someone kind. Someone I could talk to.”

  “No tall, dark, and handsome?” I asked only half-jokingly. He had surprised me by not giving me a physical description of his ideal guy.

  Reece shifted a little uncomfortably. His gaze roamed over me and his mouth tightened. “Why all the questions, Whitt? Are you volunteering for the job?”

  He caught me off guard. I opened my mouth and closed it again. Here was the opening to let him know I was gay…and interested. But I didn’t take it. After another heartbeat of silence, Reece laughed a little bitterly.

  “I guess not. Excuse me. I need to run some errands in town. Turn the lights off when you’re done.” He snapped his fingers for Ripper to follow him and stalked past me. As I stared grimly toward the ring, the rumble of Reece’s truck filled the air followed by the crunch of gravel as he reversed and headed down the drive.

  Chicken. Shit. I was a complete and total coward. How fucking hard would it have been to open my mouth and say, “Yes, I am volunteering for the job.”

  I entered the tack room and cleaned the saddle, bridle, and girth I had used for Mac. In the back of my mind, I suspected I could have paid for more help so I didn’t have to do this, but it was relaxing. At the moment, it was precisely what I needed. I focused on what I was doing and kept every other thought at bay, especially any that centered on a certain blue-eyed horse trainer with broad shoulders and a tight ass.

  That worked great until I walked back to the house. My mind played back the scene with Reece, inventing all the possible ways it might have ended if I had opened my mouth to tell him that I was gay, that I found him attractive, and found out if he would go out with me.

  The fact that I had done none of those things only reinforced what I had known for a while. When it came to being able to relate to people on a personal level, I sucked. Making money was what I was good at. I discovered that in college about the same time I figured out I was attracted to men.

  At the front door, I stopped and looked back over the pastures to the barn. The money had made up for a lot over the years, but right now all I wished was a shot at being able to re-do that scene in the barn with Reece. Judging from the way he had high-tailed it out of there, I doubted I would get a second chance.

  9

  Reece

  Since a drunken night at a horse show almost a decade earlier, Steffy and I had been each other’s confidants. Man, did I need her now. Whitt’s reaction—or lack of one—had punched me in the gut. I headed to Steffy’s farm in need of some TLC. Most of the time, sharing confidences meant Steffy listened to me bitch about my current boyfriend because she avoided any and all personal entanglements. She had her reasons, and they were ugly ones. I was glad she was willing to let me cry on her shoulder.

  Right now, I felt closer to crying than I had in eons. I had put myself out there and been rejected. Maybe ignored was more accurate.

  I hopped out of the truck with Ripper on my heels. Steffy was closing the barn for the evening. She turned in surprise.

  “Hey, Reece. What are you doing here?”

  When she got a better look at my face, her expression morphed to one of concern. “Uh oh, what’s wrong?”

  “I’m an idiot.” I wiped my hand over my face, my fingers rasping over beard stubble. She tucked her arm through mine and leaned into my shoulder.

  “Come to the house and you can tell me all about it.”

  I let her lead me toward the big yellow farmhouse that had once belonged to her parents, Ripper running ahead on a never-ending search for rodents, bugs, or whatever he could find. Once we reached the wide, wraparound porch, she pointed to the glider swing.

  “Sit. I’ll bring us out some iced tea.”

  While she was in the house, I replayed the scene with Whitt in my mind. I didn’t think I had been reading his tone and body language wrong, but damn if he hadn’t shut me down cold.

  As if sensing my mood, Ripper trotted up the steps and leaped into my lap. With his front paws on my chest, he leaned his head against my cheek. It was his version of a doggy hug and warmed me from the inside out.

  “Thanks, buddy,” I murmured. “You and Steffy are the best friends I have.”

  “Oh my god, I actually rank as high as Ripper? I am truly honored. Here.” She handed me the glass with a quirky smile before sitting next to me. “Now. Spill.”

  “Whitt had a great lesson this afternoon. As we came back in the barn, he started asking questions about my former clients. We got on the subject of Jordy, and he asked if dumping me had been a personal thing or business. I said he wasn’t my type,”

  Steffy snorted. “Jerky isn’t anyone’s type.”

  “So, he asked what type of man I was attracted to.”

  “He did? Oh, Reece, that’s great. That means he must be interested.”

  I set my iced tea glass on the table next to the glider. “Yeah. What I thought, but not the case. He made some crack about tall, dark, and handsome, kind of half-joking, you know.” I scrubbed my hand over my face again. “I asked him if he was volunteering for the job, and he stared at me.”

  Steffy didn’t say anything. My throat tightened, and my chest hurt.

  “I felt like an idiot, Steffy.”

  “Because you wanted him, and he didn’t want you? Or do you think you’ve scared him enough he’ll fire you?”

  Shit. I hadn’t even considered that possibility. And as I sat there, I realized I knew next to nothing about Whitt Dailey. If he dated guys, it would be less of a problem, but I didn’t know that. What if he wasn’t gay? I mean, I’d gotten some feelings, but I didn’t know. Shit.

  “Steffy, can we use your computer and do a little research?”

  “Sure. What are you trying to find out?”

  “I need to figure out if Whitt even dates guys. What if I asked a straight guy if he was volunteering to be my boyfriend?”

  “Hm. I see your point.” She stood and grabbed my hand. “Come on, let’s find out.”

  We searched but couldn’t find anything conclusive. There were images of him with men and women in social situations. None of the stories about him had anything concrete, only speculation, usually tying him to an attractive woman. After a half hour, I slumped back in my chair.

  “I am so screwed, Steffy.”

  She perched on the edge of a nearby chair, thinking. After a moment, she said slowly, “I think you’re okay. You could laugh the whole thing off as a joke or ignore it and go on with your lessons as though nothing happened. He needs you as much as you need him, Reece.”

  That sounded good, but the truth was I didn’t see where my talents as a trainer were a trade-off that put me on equal footing with his financial status. If I lost his backing now, I was toast. I was less than two weeks away from the deadline for entry fees into the Maysburg show, and I didn’t have the cash on me at the moment, I was still paying off my lease on the other barn, plus payments for my truck and trailer.

  What really pissed me off, though, was feeling like I had to tiptoe around Whitt, so I didn’t risk losing his backing.

  “I think ignoring it is the best way to go, Steffy. I was an idiot to get too comfortable with him. Right now, I need to keep things on a purely business footing.”

  She leaned over and gave me a hug. “Remember, if it all goes down the toilet, I got you. Just bring Mac and Satin over here. We’ll figure something out.�
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  I tried to keep Steffy’s upbeat attitude in my mind the next morning as I waited for Whitt to appear for his morning lesson. I was going to move him to Bondage today. He needed to get used to different mounts, and definitely needed to get accustomed to the horse he would be hunting. After a quarter hour, my phone chirped. A text. He’d sent a fucking text to tell me he had a meeting and wasn’t going to make it.

  Yeah.

  Well, it wouldn’t hurt Bondage to have a little schooling work put in on him. I grabbed my half chaps and my helmet, put them on and headed for the pasture. Like a lot of the farms in this area, most of the line fences were connected either with panel jumps or coops. I’d take an easy hack through, taking fences as I needed. Maybe it would get my mind off a certain tall, dark, and handsome man who didn’t appear to notice I even existed.

  By the time I returned to the barn, Sherry Rowland was inside talking to Ricky while she visited with Trixie. Bondage nickered in recognition when he saw her.

  “Hey Sherry,” I greeted her as I swung to the ground. “I’d ask what brings you here, but that’s pretty obvious.”

  She smiled. “It’s a habit, I guess.”

  “If you’re that attached to them, why on earth did you sell?”

  She shrugged. “Trying to downsize. I’ll find another mount. Those two are so attached to each other, though, I hated to separate them.”

  I began untacking Bondage before leading him to the wash stall. As I hosed him, Sherry continued. “I ran into Quinn Maitland in town and told him how well Whitt was doing. Maitland’s looking forward to hunting with him.”

  “At the rate he’s going, he should be more than ready.”

  “It’s a shame Quinn’s so conservative about some things. I’m surprised he hasn’t said anything to Whitt about you living at the house.”

  I turned to stare at her. “Why would he? Whitt and I have a business arrangement. I work for him. He offered room and board in addition to a salary.”

  “I know, I know. It’s just…you know…some people talk about how that looks.”

  This time I faced her completely, my hands loosely at my hips. “No, I don’t know, Sherry. How does that look?”

  “Some people might believe you’re living with him. I mean, there is an apartment here in the barn.”

  “Which Ricky uses, again, if that’s anyone else’s concern.”

  “That’s exactly what I explained to Maitland. Whitt is such an amazing businessman. He certainly wouldn’t do anything that might jeopardize a deal.” She stepped over to give Bondage a little kiss on the nose. “Well, I better be on my way.”

  After she left, I stared along the aisle toward the house. I didn’t know Maitland well, but I couldn’t believe he’d be narrow-minded enough to tank a business deal over someone’s sexual orientation. That wasn’t good business practice. Not in this day and age.

  Still, I couldn’t completely shake my doubts. One thing I knew for certain, for both our sakes, I needed to keep everything with Whitt strictly on a business footing. No more slip-ups. In the past, I would have said screw it, loaded my horses, and headed to Steffy’s. But this was my best shot. Right now was the time to start campaigning Satin.

  If I didn’t want to follow in my father’s footsteps, living the rest of my life as though I were a failure, I had to keep Whitt as a boss, and keep my desires tamped down. And if Whitt was going to clinch this deal with Maitland, he needed to be riding.

  The thought re-occurred as the time for his afternoon lesson arrived, and Whitt once again didn’t show. I knew he hadn’t left. His car was still there, and no limo had arrived to take him anywhere else.

  I’d had enough of his avoiding me, sulking, whatever the hell it was. I needed him riding. I marched to the house, greeted Mrs. Knowles in the kitchen, and verified Whitt was in his office. I walked in without knocking.

  As I suspected, he was sitting in his chair staring out the French doors. With that view, he had to have seen me.

  “Sulking?” I asked.

  He spun around, his brows drawn together. “Why would I be sulking, Reece? I told you I had business.”

  “That was this morning. It’s now past time for your afternoon ride.”

  “I’m busy.”

  “You need to get your butt in the saddle if you have any chance at all of being ready to foxhunt with Quinn Maitland.”

  “Since when do you tell me what to do?”

  This was going not at all the way I wanted it to. Whitt looked stressed out. I needed to dial things back. I took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I don’t tell you what to do. Maybe it would be better if we started fresh in the morning.”

  Whitt rose from his chair and walked around the desk, running his fingers through his thick hair. “Don’t apologize, Reece. I’m being a dick. I have to admit, though, I’m not in the best of moods.”

  This was an opportunity to get things back on an even keel. “Anything I can do to help?”

  Whitt smiled. “No, but thanks. I’ve been on the phone most of the day trying to get some figures Maitland wants to look at without much luck.”

  I thought back to Sherry’s comments in the barn, but I sure as hell wasn’t sharing any of our conversation. All I could hope was that she was misreading Maitland. It wasn’t hard to see how important this deal was to Whitt.

  “Starting fresh is probably a good idea. I worked Bondage today over part of the hunt territory. He’s as steady as they come. I think you’re going to be pleased with him when you get on him tomorrow.”

  Whitt nodded. “I’ll look forward to it.”

  I took that as my cue to go and returned to the barn, Ripper trotting happily at my side. I could make this work. We could both achieve our goals and keep things on a business only footing. It would be easy enough to do, and I would make sure we avoided any contact outside the barn.

  10

  Whitt

  I was determined to get things off to a fresh start the next morning, like Reece suggested—a fresh business-like start. When I walked into the barn, the reality hit that I wouldn’t be riding Mac, my steady, babysitter horse.

  Reece stepped out of the tack room, his smile tentative. I couldn’t blame him. After the past couple of days, it felt as though we were stumbling through brand new territory. It was up to me to make the first move. And when it dealt with personal relationships rather than purely business, I was way out of my comfort zone.

  “Good morning, Reece,” I greeted him. “Am I riding Bondage today?” I tried to smile, a little alarmed by how nervous I felt around him.

  “Yeah,” he replied. “You need to get used to him. We’ll start in the ring, so you can get comfortable, but we’re going to have to start practicing through the hunt country.”

  I pictured some of the big jumps built into the fence lines around my property. Now my nerves were jangling for another reason. “Um, Reece, are we going to have to jump those really tall things?”

  He turned from where he was getting a lead shank and regarded me soberly. “If you truly want to hunt with Quinn Maitland? Then yes.”

  The first real niggling of fear crawled through me. What the hell had I gotten myself into? As if he sensed my head was in a bad place, Reece set the lead back on the wall hook and walked over to me. Putting a hand on my shoulder, he gave me a little squeeze.

  “I’m not going to let you do anything you’re not ready to do. Remember that. Trust me. Now shake it off. If you get on this gelding with your head in the wrong place, he’s horse enough to recognize that, and sensible enough not to do whatever you’re hesitant to do.”

  I nodded. “I’m okay, really. I guess it all started to hit me. How little time there is.”

  “We’ll work in the ring and see how things go.”

  While I used the same saddle I had for Mac, Bondage required a different bridle, which Reece showed me how to adjust. As soon as I was on the horse’s back and moving around the ring, I noticed a tremendous diffe
rence in the way the horse moved. As the lesson progressed, I relaxed more, and the horse responded to that. On the next trip around the ring, I spotted Sherry leaning against the top rail watching our progress.

  I nodded as we passed. Her smile seemed a bit tight, but I had to keep my focus on Bondage. From the center of the ring, Reece called, “Take him through the two jumps on the outside line that we practiced with Mac. Remember to close your hip and let your hands slide along his neck. Don’t brace.”

  As I headed toward the jumps, I realized he had simplified them. Good. Bondage moved easily, but his rhythm was enough different from Mac that I was slightly behind him over the first jump. The second one was perfect.

  “Try it again. You’ve got the feel of him, so this should be smoother.”

  It was. My confidence grew. Reece raised the bars slightly on the first fence and added another bar to the second jump to give it a spread. As I circled around the ring, I sat deep in the saddle, remembering to keep my eyes up. We turned toward the first jump, and everything was going smoothly until we were a stride or two away from Bondage jumping. A bright flash temporarily blinded me, interrupting my concentration.

  Bondage swerved, and I lost my balance, tumbling in what seemed like slow motion until I hit the ground. Rubberized footing or not, it was still hard, and it hurt. Bondage, well-trained as he was, stood a few feet away, ears twitching back and forth but otherwise quiet.

  I was already sitting when Reece jogged over and squatted next to me. “Don’t move yet. I want to check you out before you stand.”

  He asked a series of questions to find out where I had hit, if I was having any problems with my vision or anything else. As I answered him, Sherry jogged toward us, a concerned look on her face.

  “Are you all right, Whitt?”

  Before I could respond, Reece’s gaze swiveled toward her. “Catch Bondage please and hold him while Whitt dusts himself off.” As he looked at me his gaze softened. “Are you absolutely sure you’re all right?”