Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 128313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
“I’m good,” I said and moved Huxley on, passing by the barns and along a path that led me into a private forest. The minute the trees created a canopy above us, the wind dropped and the only sound was the animals scurrying on the ground and birds flapping their wings in the branches.
Huxley’s ears pricked forward in excitement, and I let myself relax. I wanted to slap myself when the first thing that came to mind was Jasper. “I’m fucked, Hux,” I told my horse. I’d always admired Jasper. He had always been my inspiration to jump and compete. Over the years, I’d come to find him ridiculously attractive too. I mean, who wouldn’t? I knew I’d probably see him here at Golden Oaks. But this past week . . . Hell, I never would have imagined that.
I smiled when we rounded a corner and the woods opened into a field, a herd of deer spread out before us. Stunning. Huxley watched them avidly. Lost in the picture of them grazing, the cold mist surrounding them making the scene look more like a painting, I said to myself, “You must stay away from him, Hallie. He’s your boss, and the last thing you want is fellow riders on the circuit thinking you got here on your back and not your merit.” My stomach fell at that. I’d worked far too long in this sport for it to be sullied by rumors of anything romantic with Jasper. Not that there would ever be. But I had to hide my attraction toward him.
Turning Huxley onto the trail, I followed the path back to the barn. After I’d untacked Huxley and brushed him down, I blanketed him and put him out in the field to graze.
By the time I’d walked home, I felt more certain of myself. Jasper Knighton was simply my boss. I would give him a wide berth, and any interactions would be purely professional. I had a career to forge, and I couldn’t let my attraction toward my employer get in my way.
Ten days later
Knighton Equestrian Warehouse, Surrey
We arrived at a large warehouse at the crack of dawn. The morning was still dark as our car arrived at a back door of a huge white building. Sage was asleep on my arm, and I nudged her when we stopped.
“Wha—?” she mumbled, waking from slumber.
“We’re here,” I said, and Eric, our driver, opened the door for us. We’d insisted to Victoria that we’d drive ourselves here today, but she’d refused. It’s a long tiring day. Believe me, you’ll want the rest on the way back, she’d said, and ordered us a car.
The Knighton Equestrian warehouse was about an hour outside of Golden Oaks. Sage had used the travel time to catch some more rest. I’d been too wired. As per my vow to myself, I’d kept my head down and gotten shit done. I hadn’t once caught sight of Jasper. Sometimes I found myself wondering whether he was avoiding me too. If he was, it was for the best. Not seeing him had given me the reprieve I needed to push him from my mind and focus on the only reason I was here: jumping.
We’d trained like crazy over the past couple of weeks, and I didn’t want to jinx things, but Huxley and I were on fire. Like you feel some things are just meant to be, that was me and my stallion. The same went for Sage and her insane mare, Seraphina, or Fefe, as Sage affectionately called her. How anyone could nickname that mare something so sweet and whimsical was beyond me, but no one could deny that Sage and Fefe were a dynamic duo. When it came to competing against Sage in the upcoming Grand Prix, I honestly wasn’t sure which of us would win.
But we wouldn’t have it any other way. We were best friends and even fiercer competitors, though our rivalry had never affected our friendship like it did most others on the circuit. That was the biggest blessing we had.
A man came to the car. When we stepped out, he held out his hand. “Marco Roberts,” he said with a wide smile. “Artistic director for Knighton Equestrian.”
“Nice to meet you, Marco,” I said and shook his hand.
Sage followed suit, then slapped him on the back and said, “You got coffee in this place, Marco? Because I’m gonna need a kilo of that shit, stat! This country girl needs the bitter taste of java to get my systems firing and my bitch mode swiftly put on silent.”
Marco blinked a few times at my filterless best friend but quickly ushered us inside, out of the cold drizzle and into the warm(ish) warehouse. “Right this way,” he said, and I smiled as Sage successfully bulldozed another employee.