I’d tried several times to get Cole to let him do something else; I didn’t need a driver, but he insisted. He said it was a small worry he didn’t have to be concerned about anymore. When I met Sia for lunch, I walked with her, but if we went somewhere other than Gianni’s, I lied and made sure to let her know I would “order” a car for us. In a way I did: I let Carl know when we’d need him.
A little voice nagged at me whenever Carl drove us. Sia was scared of Cole, and one of his drivers was driving us around. I wasn’t ready to tell her about him, and I knew Carl had orders. If I went anywhere without him, he would follow me anyway. So my way of appeasing everyone was to lie. I hoped when Sia did find out, she wouldn’t hate me, and as Carl drove into the night, taking me outside the city limits, I hoped once again that Sia would forgive me.
She’d called earlier, wanting me to go to dinner with her and Jake. If I said I was sick, she’d want to check on me, and if I made any other excuse, they’d have called relentlessly for me to join them at Jake’s after dinner.
I’d needed a reason that took me out of their reach, so I’d lied once more.
I’d told her I was checking one last time on my house. I knew she would give me space to deal with that. She always did. Once I told her that, I’d realized I really did need to check on the house. I planned on asking Carl to take me there tomorrow.
Right now, I sat back and watched the city lights fade as Carl drove. I grew sleepy until the car turned on to a gravel road. We were in the country. On both sides of the car were green meadows, fenced in by wooden posts. The fences were painted white and the grass trimmed low. We were at a ranch. The car stopped, and Carl came around to open my door.
We’d parked right in front of a large wooden barn—bright red and two-storied. Its big door was opened, and I could see stalls lining both sides of the barn with a large cement pathway in the middle. Another barn sat to the right and a large track to the left.
“What is this place?”
Carl didn’t answer. He went back to the car and began to reverse.
“Addison.”
I twisted to find Cole coming toward me in jeans and a black zip-up sweatshirt that molded to him perfectly. He didn’t look like a mobster now; he was more akin to a ranch owner. I glanced down and scowled.
I pointed. “You don’t have cowboy boots on.” I tapped my boot-clad feet. “You told me to wear cowboy boots.”
He laughed. “I know.” He caught my hand, lacing our fingers.
There. I felt the tingle, like always.
“I wanted to see you in them. I thought they’d be cute.”
I tightened our hold, not having a retort ready to go. Everything was melting inside of me.
The barn was heated as Cole led me inside, and the first few stalls held horses. Some looked back at me with heads over the stall doors. Others turned away, their heads hanging down. A few munched hay that hung in the stalls’ corners.
“What is this place?” I asked, drawing closer to Cole.
He gestured to a horse wearing a long, draped coat. “I own a race track, but I also board horses. This is one of our boarding stables.”
“You own these horses?”
“A few, but most belong to other people.” We progressed through the barn, coming to a side door. It was open, and Cole pointed to the racing track. “Some are trained here. Some are just ridden here by their owners.” He gestured to the woods. “There are riding trails out there.”
“Who are the other owners?”
He shrugged. “It depends. Most of them are people in the city. The other barn holds the racing horses, but some owners have their own stables.”
The stables felt intimate and warm. A set of stairs wound down from the second floor into the middle of the stalls. Cole kept moving toward the opposite end of the barn. A horse—all white with black spots—hung its head over its stall and watched us come. It was larger than the others, and as we got closer, I could tell it was a special horse. It held its head high with a thick and muscular neck. Power rippled from the horse’s body.
He reminded me of Cole.
Cole moved closer, extending his hand to touch the horse’s neck. “This is one of our stallions. We keep the mares in the other building and the geldings in the front, where we came in. Those are the guys who got the bits snipped, if you didn’t know. This guy here we keep separate from the rest so no fights break out.”
“Is he dangerous?” I didn’t know anything about horses, but I could see that Cole loved him. And the stallion allowed Cole to touch him.
“He can be; that’s for sure. But if he’s handled right, he’s a happy guy.” Cole gestured around the stable. “He’s only in here at night. We let him run with the breeding mares during the day. We’ve got a few other stallions, but we keep them elsewhere.”