Off to the Races: A Small Town Enemies to Lovers Romance (Gold Rush Ranch Book 1)

I’ve barely slept all night.

For starters, Billie is an insatiable animal. Her wild child streak and jokes laden with sexual innuendo should have prepared me. But then, I’ve never been prepared for anything about this woman.

We spent hours rocking into each other. Exploring each other. We christened this cottage in a way I’m sure it never has been before. She’s so carefree, so adventurous, so ravenous for me. I’ve never felt more desired and masculine as I do with her in my arms.

I knew I wanted her, but this… this is so much more.

Just looking at her now, naked and sleeping serenely on her back, one hand thrown possessively over my stomach, makes my chest ache in an unfamiliar way. I press a palm to my sternum, rubbing absently, trying to ease the mounting pressure.

I should be asleep too, but I can’t tear my eyes away from her, can’t stop soaking up her every feature. I want to commit everything about her to memory. I’m terrified she’s going to duck and run as soon as she wakes up. Like everyone always does. I’m terrified that if I put a toe out of place, she’ll throw in the towel.

She’s gun shy, and I can’t blame her.

But her unpredictability scares me. The only predictable person in my life died and threw me for a goddamn loop. It feels inevitable that I’ll be left in the lurch again. She’s so guarded and has spent so many years putting up walls to cover big secrets. Maybe I should be angry with her for concealing her identity, but I’m not. In fact, I feel like I understand her better than ever.

If I could start fresh without my family’s scandal looming over me like an ever-present storm cloud, I probably would. I can’t hold that against her. I won’t. It doesn’t matter what her name was a decade ago. I want who she is now. Like, really want her.

She snuck up on me, planted the seeds, and I let the roots take over, wrapping themselves around every pulse point, filling up my darkest corners, squeezing painfully at my heart. We are intertwined now, and the thought of ripping her out—it’s too painful to bear.

She rolls towards me, her slender hand dragging over my chest, sliding it underneath my palm. “That’s a lot of staring. You plotting ways to kill me or something?”

Busted.

Her eyes close again as she snuggles into my shoulder. The weight in my chest is buoyed by the blooming heat her touch pours around it. “Nah. I tried to fuck you to death last night, and it didn’t work.”

A soft giggle spills from her lips. “That’s probably the way to go out, though.” She wraps herself around me, one long leg resting over mine. I slide an arm under her neck and hug her close to me, loving the feeling of her naked body latched onto mine. “I’ll be walking funny all day thanks to you and the monster in your pants.”

I take a hold of her wrist and pull her hand between my legs. “This monster?”

“Jesus, Vaughn.” She laughs as she palms my hard cock. “Good morning, Monster.” Her confident grip slides up and down, and I swell even more, filling her hand.

I turn so that we’re lying face to face, letting the tips of my fingers drift over the hills and valleys of her body, feeling the gentle dips and curves of her. Breast to waist, to delicious round ass. I kiss her gently since her lips look puffy and pink from the way our mouths sparred all night. “I’m out of condoms. You’re an animal, Mowgli.”

Her hand continues to glide up and down my length as she whispers onto my cheek, “I don’t need a condom for this…”

She moves over top of me and drifts down under the sheets, dragging her nails over the ridges of my abdomen. I feel her press a firm kiss into the crook of my hip before she drags her teeth along the line of my groin. My hips buck up as she licks her way across to the other side, sucking on a sensitive spot just beside the base of my cock.

Billie edges down further, and I push up on my elbows to watch her. She holds my gaze with her glowing amber eyes and lets her lips brush against the tip of my cock. I groan and clench my molars. Her tongue darts out and swirls around the swollen head, lapping up the glistening drop of pre-cum. Does she have any fucking clue how sinful she looks right now?

“Billie,” my voice is thick with arousal, “what do you think you’re doing?”

From between my legs, she gives me her best innocent look, lashes fluttering slowly across her cheeks as she licks my length brazenly from base to tip. “I’m trying to apologize to you for being… what did you call it? So totally infuriating?”

And then she takes my cock all the way into her mouth, straight to the back of her throat.

“Fuck,” I rasp out, tangling my fingers in her chestnut waves, holding her hair back so I can watch her take me. Watch her cheeks hollow out as she bobs eagerly in my lap. “Best fucking apology ever,” I growl, applying some pressure to the back of her head, feeling her go soft and pliant in my hands. Letting me move her how I want. So goddamn trusting, turning herself over to me this way—it feels like the ultimate victory. The ultimate gift.

And it’s like throwing gasoline on a wildfire. The animal instincts inside of me buzz with pleasure, with wanting more. “Billie. I need to fuck you.”

She pulls off me, wide eyes trained on mine as she daintily wipes a smudge of saliva off her bottom lip. “Okay,” she breathes out, “I’m clean and on birth control.”

I internally beat my chest like an absolute caveman. “I’m clean. I’ve never gone without a condom.”

Her teeth press into that bottom lip, just like they did the first day I met her. So fucking distracting. “Good. I want you bare.”

I jerk in her palm. Fuck me, this woman can talk about consensual safe sex and I’m raring to go. The thought of no barriers between us drives me insane. I pull her up to me and then roll her over, so that she’s underneath me. Where she belongs. My fingers swipe through her wet heat once.

My girl is so ready. I slide into her. Slow. Steady. Skin on skin for the first time. Wanting to be as close to her as possible. Moving together, we share feelings that neither of us can put into words yet. She got hard and dirty Vaughn last night, but this morning I feel off balance. Sentimental.

We fuck lazily. We kiss slowly. We let our hands roam tenderly. I whisper in her ear and tell her how good she feels, how incredibly beautiful she is. I tell her that our bodies fit together perfectly. And she moans her agreement as she topples over into another orgasm, her limbs trembling around mine as I pour myself into her body.

After soaping each other in the shower, I offer to cook Billie breakfast. She sidles up to the island, looking fresh in an off the shoulder white shirt. Just the sight of her shoulder and elegant collarbone peeking through makes my mouth go dry. The implication of no bra is downright distracting. I focus back down on the cutting board. Can’t keep mauling her if I don’t feed her.

I slide a cup of coffee across the kitchen island to her waiting hands. She glances down into the mug, a small smile touching the corners of her mouth. I know she’s checking the amount of cream I put in for her. Her cheek twitches as a look of uncertainty overshadows the small smile. “What do we do now? What is this?”

My heart pounds in my chest. This is the conversation I’ve been dreading. The one where Billie the escape artist finds a way out of being us. I keep chopping vegetables for the omelette.

“We’re together, Billie. I don’t care what you name it. It’s like I told you last night.” I look up to her striking face. “You’re what I want.”

Her caramel eyes glisten with tears. “I want you too.” Her voice is quiet. “But, I’m concerned about how that works at the farm or around the track. It’s hard enough dealing with douchebags like Patrick Cassel without being accused of banging my boss.”

“You are banging your boss.” I point at her. “And you love it.”

She rolls her eyes, grinning. “I do. But can we just keep it quiet for a bit?”

I don’t love the idea. I’ve never had a woman want to keep me hidden away, usually it’s quite the opposite. But Billie has a point. She’s worked hard for her career, put a lot on the line to make it happen for herself, I would never want to be the one to ruin that for her. Truth be told, I’ve become her biggest cheerleader. Whatever it takes.

“Of course,” I say as I turn away to fire the stove up and hide my disappointment. It still stings, and I don’t want her to see that it does. I don’t want to push her too hard, too fast.

My phone rings on the counter, interrupting our conversation. Dread pools in my stomach when I see it’s a call from a number I don’t recognize. I never thought I’d be afraid to answer my phone, but this is my new normal.

“You gonna answer that?”

“I don’t know who it is. I still keep getting calls from reporters asking about my grandfather. I’m tired of telling them I have no comment.”

“Let me take one for the team then.” She presses the answer button and turns it to speakerphone with a look of excitement on her face. Ever the shit-disturber. Her fake sugary voice fills the room, “Helloo! Vaughn Harding’s phone.”

“Put me through to Mr. Harding.” The voice is deep and sharp, slightly accented, as the man barks his order.

Billie is unphased. “Unfortunately for you, I don’t take orders from people whose mother didn’t teach them to say please or thank you.”

I cringe inwardly, stifling a laugh. She really has no filter. It’s part of her charm.

“My mother is dead. Put him on. Now.”

“I guess it’s a blessing that she’s not here to witness your bad manners firsthand then,” Billie snipes back. My fingers pulse and squeeze the knife in my hand. I don’t want to police her behavior, but she is going to get me in trouble with that mouth one of these days. “May I ask who’s calling?”

“Stefan Dalca.”

I pale. The man is an enigma, practically a recluse. A shady one who showed up in the area a year ago with too much money and no answers about who he is or where he came from. And in a small town where everyone knows everything about everyone else, his secrecy is downright suspicious. His land, his stables, his horses, he bought them all outright and then waltzed into the tight-knit racing industry in the lower mainland like he’d been a mainstay for years. Everyone in the community agrees, it’s fishy as all get out. I’ve intentionally avoided all connections to the man, which is easy to do when he’s secluded on his property.

“Charming. You were far more polite last week when you were needling me for information at the track.”

My eyes flash up to Billie. Huh? She’d met the man? The line is quiet for a few beats too long.

Crazy Billie has left one of the area’s most dubious businessmen speechless. If I weren’t trying so hard to be quiet, I would laugh. I chance a look at her, assessing her profile. Yeah, she looks pleased with herself right now. She’s just a cat playing with a mouse.

I shake my head. How did sensible Vaughn Harding end up with this smart mouthed firebrand?

“Aha. Is this Miss Black? Or is it Miss Farrington?” His voice is more teasing now. It’s almost like I can hear the smug look on his face through the phone. I want to punch it right off his slimy face.

“Miss Black,” she replies, not giving away the momentary shock that flits across her face at him using her old name.

“Well, in that case,” Dalca continues in his smooth voice, “Miss Black, may I please speak to Mr. Harding? I’d like to make him an offer on the black horse we spoke about last week.”

Now, it’s Billie’s turn to pale. Her whole body goes rigid, except for her mouth, which opens and closes without any words.

“Okay,” she finally says, eerily calm. A lot calmer than she looks as her eyes dart to mine.

How the hell am I going to play this?

“Vaughn Harding speaking.”

“Mr. Harding. My name is Stefan Dalca, we haven’t officially met, but I had the pleasure of speaking with your…,” he trails off suggestively, “trainer, Miss Black.”

Billie turns away from me, looking out the window towards DD’s paddock. “This is a private number, Mr. Dalca. Care to elaborate on how you came to have it?”

“I have my ways.” His tone is dismissive. “At any rate, as you know, I’m working hard to build an elite string of racehorses and thought we could work together as two of the big players in the area. I saw your black colt run last weekend, and I’d like to make you an offer.”

Great. Just what I need. Another morally corrupt asshole trying to latch on to my business.

“My company email is listed on the website. You are always welcome to send me a written offer. Though, I have to tell you I’m not looking to work with anyone.” Out of the corner of my eye, I see Billie’s body relax on a long exhale.

His laugh is a deep rumble through the speaker, the kind of laugh you direct at a charming small child when they say something adorable. I don’t like it. “Everything has a price, Mr. Harding. I knew your grandfather, you know.” Billie’s head whips towards me now as I grind my teeth, making my jaw click. “We had an excellent working relationship.”

My voice comes out dark and dangerous. Now he’s gone too far. This conversation is over. “How lovely. Thank you for your condolences. Have a nice day now.”

“Keep your eyes peeled for my email. It’s been a pleasure chatting with you.”

I hang up. Knuckles white, chest heaving, mind racing. What a prick.

“Well, that was… interesting,” Billie muses. I just grunt in response, not sure what to say. “DD isn’t for sale, right?” Her eyes are so clear and honest, focused right on my face. “I mean, I know horses come and go. I know it’s part of the business but—” she cuts off, looking out the window and running her palm up over her throat like I had the night before.

“But you’re attached to him?” I supply.

She clears her throat. “I mean, yes. I am. I’ll be the first to admit I love that horse.” Her voice cracks, but she continues, “Probably more than any horse I’ve had the pleasure of spending time with. But Vaughn, he can win it all. I know he can. He’s my—our—best shot at winning the Denman Derby. Hell, maybe even the Northern Crown. Horses like him come around once in a lifetime. You can’t just replace that kind of prestige.”

I give her hand a reassuring squeeze across the counter. “Don’t worry about it. He’s the last type of person I plan to go into business with.”

She places her other hand on top of mine, giving it a gentle squeeze, before she walks out of the house wordlessly to go feed her horse. A silent offering of her trust.

Stefan Dalca would have to make me one hell of an offer for me to ever even consider taking that horse away from her.