When September Ends (26 page)

Rodney came from Mississippi. Along with helping Jenna, he also provided horse and buggy rides for the tourists. Rodney was a serious guy with a fun-loving side.

I led the horse up the brick, half-circle drive in front of the colonial mansion. I saw Jenna in her floor-length hooped skirt with the layers of crinoline underneath to poof it out nicely. She had a frilly parasol opened and positioned over her head, tilted at an angle to shade her face from the sun while she was talking to some worker, I presumed.

He was leaning up against one of the massive columns on the front veranda, muscular arms crossed in front of him as Jenna was peering up at him smiling and talking; she occasionally pointed over towards the brick smokehouse off to the side, fanning her face vigorously as if telling him of some problem.

Ah, I bet she was bitching about the fumes whenever they roasted a pig over at the smokehouse. I’d heard her yapping about it the other day to Clint, complaining how it made her nauseous day after day having to breathe in the stench of roasting pork.

I wondered how long she would’ve lasted shoveling horse shit. I continued leading the horse and noticed that Jenna had caught a glimpse of me and Derringer as we’d started up the stone driveway. It seemed that she was working even harder at trying to keep the guy’s attention. I could now see why.

“Hottie tomattie,” I whispered. He looked a bit older than the usual college workers employed during the summers. Probably a local who worked full-time year round. He was around 6′3″, muscularly built with dark brown hair that was thick and tousled at the moment; he had a firm flat belly, and broad shoulders. He had a white tee shirt on that hugged his ripped abs in all the right places. It was my turn to fan myself and Jenna caught it. I heard her flirtatious giggle float down the drive as we closed in.

“Well, well,” she called out, “I see you’re out with the beast again, Tylar! Ever going to get enough nerve to put a saddle on him and ride over?”

I see Scarlett’s trying to impress ole Rhett here with her Southern charm.

The guy turned his attention to me and Derringer; immediately a look crossed over his face that was not good. I was close enough now to see the color of his eyes and they were blue. No, that’s an understatement; they were more than blue, they were piercing sapphire blue and, at that very moment, they were an extremely pissed off blue.

He immediately excused himself from Jenna and jumped down from the porch, taking long, angry strides towards me and the horse.

What the hell?

As he reached us, he immediately looked me over top to bottom, then bottom to top, his hands now resting on his hips, standing in a half-slouch that was really, really hot, and I noticed his chin dimple.

My first instinct was to flinch because beneath my faux street-smart demeanor, I’m actually quite passive and avoid confrontation whenever possible. The fact that Jenna was standing on the porch observing us and probably expecting me to hightail it out of there was just enough to spark a bit of courage in me so as to hang on to the faux cocky attitude I was trying to pull off.

“Why do you have Derringer over here?” he asked abruptly.

“I’m just taking him out for some exercise is all.”

“What’s wrong with letting him out in the fenced pasture?” he pressed.

“Well, there’s nothing wrong with it, I guess,” I faltered. “I mean, sometimes he just likes it when I lead him, you know, to different places for a change of scenery.”

“I see,” he said, regarding me beneath his thick lashes, his anger dissipating somewhat.

“I mean, if you’re worried I’m going to let him loose around the pigs or your smokehouse, you don’t have to worry about that; I keep his reins firmly in my grasp. I don’t allow him to wander without me.”

“That’s good to know,” he replied tersely, his eyes flickering over the horse as if I’d allow some harm to come to him.

What’s his deal?

“So, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to take him over to the horse barns so he can visit with some of his buds,” I said, clicking my tongue to get him moving. Derringer didn’t budge.

“Come on, boy,” I urged, tugging a bit harder on his lead rein, clicking my tongue again.

Nothing.

I saw a smile flicker over the guy’s face, a cheek dimple now appearing.

“Yes, I see the control you have over the beast,” he said. “I can’t imagine that spirited animal would give you any problems at all.”

Okay. Now he’s making fun of me, which is so not cool.

This was no time for Derringer to morph into a stubborn mule, and yet he had. From the porch, I heard Jenna’s delighted cackle as she observed the horse’s refusal to comply with my commands.

I was clearly irritated that I was providing comic relief to her and this guy who seemed a bit arrogant for just another co-worker here.

“Don’t you have a pig or…
something
to roast, Rhett?” I lashed out at him, tugging harder on Derringer’s lead, forcing the horse to take a step.

“Derringer halt,” his smooth and silky voice called, as he took the reins from my hands, and dropped them to the ground.

What the?!?

Derringer didn’t budge; dropping his head to graze on the grassy patch beside the drive. My eyes immediately flew back to look at the townie who was now smiling at me wickedly.

“The name’s Trey,” he said. “And yours?”

“Tylar Preston,” I replied. “I take it you don’t work over at the smokehouse…”

“No, I don’t. At the moment, I’m overseeing the entire operation here while my parents are in Europe.”

“Ah, so then your last name must be…
Sinclair
.” I mumbled.

“We can’t keep a thing from you, can we?” he teased.

“And that means Derringer is uh…
your
horse?”

“He is. How is it that you were able to get him out like this?” he asked.

“Frankly, no one else wants to mess with him. I guess I liked the challenge of getting him to trust me. We’re friends now. I bribe him with carrots, groom him, and talk to him. I was hoping to start exercising him over in the arena at the Belle. He’s had some dressage training, right?”

Trey’s face darkened in anger. “You misunderstood the question, Ms. Preston. I’m asking why you would disregard the orders I’ve given with respect to this horse by bringing him out of the pasture?”

“I’m not sure that I’ve disregarded any orders, Mr. Sinclair. I’m being paid to take care of the horses and that’s what I’m doing. Derringer needs to be ponyed right along with the quarters and jumpers daily. I’m simply working to gain his trust so that I can mount him.”

He took a step closer to me, to the point where I was pretty sure it would have thrilled Jenna if she were in my place. I had to force myself from taking a nervous step backwards.

“My instructions were specific to Ray regarding this horse,” he said in a gravel-low monotone. “But maybe they weren’t clear enough. No one mounts Derringer, the only exception being me. He’s an expensive piece of horseflesh, and I won’t have some novice equestrian-wannabe taking risks with him, is that understood?”

I could feel my eyes widening to the point where my eyelashes were probably spreading out. His eyes were cool as a cucumber, ablaze with a splash of ice as he continued to look down at me.

“Is that understood?” he repeated, his voice now carrying a steely edge to it.

I nodded and took a step back from him. “Yes,” I squeaked. “Perfectly.”

“Good,” he said, bending down to grab Derringer’s reins from the ground. He looped them around his hand, and with one swift and lithe movement, Trey swung himself up and onto the horse’s bare back, turning to peer down at me, as Derringer did a side-step. “Because, Ms. Preston, if this happens again, your ass
will
be fired.”

He pressed his calves into the horse’s sides, taking off, presumably for the stables leaving me standing there feeling humiliated, chastised and idiotic in front of Jenna.

I seethed in anger the whole way back through the woods to the stables. I hoped like hell he was gone by the time I got there. I had no desire to be at the receiving end of his wrath again.

Once I reached the stables, I peeked in the window to make sure he was gone. I saw that Derringer had been untacked and was back in his stall. What a screwed up end to my day! Jenna would probably broadcast to everyone that I’d had my ass ripped by Trey Sinclair.

Jenna had done her share of gossiping about him in the few weeks I’d been here. Something about him being a high-powered attorney somewhere else, owning shares of the family business, a scandalous broken engagement in his past, and oh yeah, Jenna dreamed of ‘doing him’ one day soon.

I tried to put it all out of my mind as I crossed the pasture heading toward the bank of cottages and the cold shower that awaited me. Suddenly, the loud roar of an engine caught my attention as I spotted a black Lamborghini Gallardo convertible speeding down the Sinclair estate driveway. The driver wore sunglasses. There was no mistaking the burnished brown hair flying back from that sinfully handsome face. As the car passed the pasture to my right, the driver glanced over. For a split second, I thought I could actually make out his smile. Despite his assholiness with me, there was no denying Trey Sinclair was smokin’ hot.

Ah yes, that shower’s going to cool me off nicely.

Andrea Smith is a USA Today Best-Selling Author.

An Ohio native, currently residing in southern Ohio.
The Past Tense Future Perfect
trilogy is Ms. Smith’s first self-published work. Having previously been employed as an executive for a global corporation, Ms. Smith decided to leave the corporate world and pursue her life-long dream of writing fiction.

Ms. Smith’s second series, The
G-Man Series
consists of four novels and a novella. Her
Limbo Series
is her first venture into a blend of romantic, suspense, mystery with steamy scenes and a paranormal edge.

A listing of her published fiction:

G-Man Series:

Diamond Girl
Love Plus One
Night Moves
G-Men Holiday Wrap
These Men (Spin-off) Part of the BEND anthlogy.
Taz

Past Tense Future Perfect (Boxed Set trilogy, e-book only.)

Limbo Series:

Silent Whisper
Clouds in my Coffee

Ms. Smith also publishes New Adult fiction under the pen name of Graysen Blue.

Sins of September
When September Ends