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

Off to the Races: Chapter 26



The rubber curry comb in my hand moves in small aggressive circles over DD’s dusty black coat. The little pig rolled around in the mud and looks like an absolute swamp monster. Which, for once, is fine by me. I need to work out some angst.

Last night had been a lot, but the phone call from Stefan Dalca had been something else altogether.

Vaughn fucked my brains out, but not all of them. So, I didn’t miss the fact that he didn’t actually confirm that DD isn’t for sale. Which is exactly why I held myself from jumping into the deep end with the man.

As my boss, he owes me no explanation about selling horses. My job is to train them, make them as successful as possible. His job is to run the business side, crunch the numbers, make deals with buyers and so forth.

But as my—whatever the hell we are—well, that muddies the waters a bit, doesn’t it?

I’m not quick to open the cage around my heart, but I know Vaughn is close to getting there. If I’m honest with myself, he’s consumed me since the day we met. I’ve gone out of my way to harass him. I accused him of being the little boy who pesters the girl he likes, but the truth is I am no better.

I constantly needled him, pushing the limits of his patience, all to see what he’d tolerate. To see if he’d snap. I’ve been hot and cold to the extreme. Because maybe, just maybe, if I couldn’t scare him off, he’d be worthy of my trust. Maybe if I put my worst foot forward, and he still stuck around, maybe then I could open up.

I need to sit down and explain this to Vaughn. I owe him an explanation. We probably should have talked about this already, but we were too busy giving each other delicious orgasms.

God, I’ve never had sex like that. Uncontained passion. Overflowing pleasure. There was no turning back. It’s like something destined us to get that out of our systems. I don’t know why I held back for so long, really. Vaughn is the perfect blend of gentle and domineering. Hot doesn’t even begin to cover that first time on the kitchen counter.

He’s addictive. Hazardous to my well-being.

I finish brushing DD to a shine and feeding him all the carrots I can find before heading to the stables to check in on the man I haven’t been able to stop thinking about. The phone call with Stefan Dalca took the wind out of his sails and while I was out with DD, he darted out of my house saying he was going to do a few things in his office. I’m intuitive enough to see that call rocked him to his core.

He said he was okay, but I’m not buying it.

I peek around the corner into his office, leaning against the doorframe. He’s sitting at his desk, looking out the window with a thoughtful expression on his handsome face, fingers steepled in front of his chin. His body is tense, and I see the defined lines of concentration on his forehead.

“I recognize that look,” I say as I tap gently on my temple. “You’re hashing something out.”

His chocolate eyes dart to mine, but his body doesn’t move.

“Yes.” He huffs out a sigh.

I move into the room and drop myself into one of the chairs facing him, the same one I sat in on the day of my job interview. “You’re a slow processor, you know?” He quirks an eyebrow at me like I’ve insulted him. “No, no, hang on. Let me finish. It’s like… I feel and it slams into me with such force. I feel everything so intensely. So… instantly.” I rub my hands over my thighs as he regards me, not interjecting a thing. “Whereas you’re so adept at keeping up appearances you don’t even realize something is influencing you until much later. You’ve buried it, and by the time you get around to uncovering it, it’s necrotic. Practically eating you alive.”

He sits still, looking at me from over the tips of his fingers. Seconds stretch out as we stare at each other.

“Maybe.”

Ugh. Men. Why do I keep coming back for more?

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Dalca sent his offer.”

I stare at him, hearing my heart beating in my ears. I’m scared to ask. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea who he was when he started talking to me. Is… is it—”

His shoulders slump as he scrubs his hands over his face. “It’s a lot.”

I feel myself pale. “How much?”

“Not enough. Especially considering the way he roped Dermot into the conversation like he has something on him. Not wild about that implication. I don’t even know where to start.”

“Okay. I’ll start. I want to tell you about my childhood.”

He shuffles papers around on his desk, avoiding eye contact with me. “You don’t need to do that.”

“I grew up just outside of Toronto, in a painfully ostentatious neighborhood called The Bridle Path—also known as Millionaire’s Row. And yes, it’s exactly as pretentious as it sounds. And no, I have zero intention of heading back that way, which is why the west coast is the perfect place for me. Same country, opposite side.”

“Way better weather.”

“Way hotter bosses.” I wink at him and then continue, “I spent my youth being groomed to make someone a gracious wife.”

That garners me a chuckle. “Have your parents ever met you?”

I smile sadly at him. “That’s just the thing, isn’t it? My parents were so focused on curating everything about me, about our family. My appearance, my education, my extra-curricular activities, my friends, that they overlooked pretty much everything about who I actually am. I don’t think they really cared. If they could have had two point five kids just to achieve that perfect statistic, I think they would have.”

His jaw ticks and his eyes soften. “I’m sorry.”

I shrug. “I take solace in imagining their faces when they found out I’m an unmarried racehorse trainer with no post-secondary education.”

“You don’t talk to them at all? They haven’t reached out?”

“Not even once. I was seventeen when the videos of my dad surfaced. I’m sure you’ve seen them. Pretty young escorts, a pile of cocaine, and Canada’s favorite Prime Minister. Naturally, I was expected to fall into line and come to my father’s defense, like a good soldier.” I shake my head as I feel my tear ducts burn. I blink my lashes, trying to push the swell of water back down. “Nothing will ever be as humiliating as having to stand by him through that, watching my mother smile and nod at people like everything was fine.”

Vaughn reaches across the desk to hold my hand in his. “So, you left?”

I take a deep, ragged breath. “Yup. On my eighteenth birthday. My trust fund swapped into my name, and I stormed out of there in an absolute blaze of glory. Took a bus out of town and ended up on Hank’s doorstep. I knew, even as a teenager, I wasn’t ever going to fall on my own sword to cover up another person’s mistakes. I was done.” I let that long buried anger seep into my voice now. “When you make shitty fucking decisions, you’ll probably end up in a shitty fucking situation, and you don’t force the people you love to sacrifice themselves for your reputation. It’s unforgivable.”

Vaughn’s long fingers trace over the veins on the top of my hand as he stares at me. Like really stares at me. It’s unnerving. I feel like he’s looking right into me, right through my skin and muscle. Right through my bones. Right into my patchwork heart.

“Poetic.” A dimple on his cheek peeks out, and I can’t help but laugh. This man has been making me laugh since day one, whether it was at him or with him. Vaughn Harding is amusing.

“On a lighter note, I have an older brother; his name is Rich. He’s the only member of my family I keep in touch with, and you’d probably really like him. Sometimes he fakes a business trip to come see me.” I trail off, thinking about how long it’s been since I’ve seen my brother, since I’ve hugged him. “I miss him.”

“He stuck around?”

“Oh, yeah. That schmuck was born to be a politician. He’ll stay out East, though he’s not terribly tight with our parents either.”

“That’s…” he trails off, looking for the right words.

“A lot?” I huff out a tired laugh as I squeeze his big warm hand. “Sure is. But now you know my whole sordid past. The moral of the story is: people almost always disappoint me, but horses don’t.”

Vaughn’s eyes burn with determination, and something more, when he says to me, “I don’t want to disappoint you.”

I shrug in response, not ready to get my hopes up in that department. Not yet.

“Then don’t.”

I launch myself at Vaughn the minute we push through the front door of my little log house. I hear his breath leave his chest in a whoosh as I crash against him, wanting him to wash away the memories I just dredged up.

He rumbles against my lips, “Bed. Now.” His palms grip my biceps as he gives me a gentle shove towards the stairs. A telltale spark dances around in my pelvis as I walk across the room. I love this version of him.

I lift my shirt over my head, dropping it on the floor. I unclasp my bra, dropping it on the steps. At the top of the landing, I shimmy out of my jeans and look over my shoulder at him as I head towards the bed wearing only a thong. I feel like he’s hunting me as he prowls behind me, covering the ground more quickly with his long strides.

With one hand on my shoulder, he spins me around to face him and palms my breasts. “This body is mine.” I stand at the edge of my bed as his hands slide all over me. His lips follow in their path. Down my throat, across my collarbones, onto my nipples where his tongue darts out as he sucks and nips. I can’t stop the wanton moans that spill from my lips.

The man sets me on fire.

His mouth travels down my body as he drops to his knees before me. He looks up from where he’s kneeling, and I run my hands through his silky strands, soaking in his handsome face. The sharp masculine planes, the deep, dark eyes dancing with sinister intentions. Just looking at him kneeling before me makes me squeeze my thighs together in anticipation.

He hooks two fingers into the strip of fabric covering me and pulls it to the side. “This time when you beg me to fuck you while I eat this pussy, I might actually indulge you.”

My teeth drag across my bottom lip as I sigh out, “Fuck.”

Vaughn moves in. His expert mouth tortures me with every swipe of his tongue, every graze of his teeth, every well-timed suck. From above my heaving chest, I watch his head move against me.

I pant and try to put off begging. I really do. But I’m weak. “Please.” It comes out strangled. “Please, Vaughn, I want more.” He doubles down his efforts as his fingers dig into my hips and ass.

“P—please fuck me.”

He sucks hard on my clit, making me cry out. He is both impressive and forever infuriating.

“Vaughn Harding!” I scold him. “Get that fine ass up here and fuck me. Now.”

His chuckle is dark as he rises to stand eye-to-eye with me. “That’s not how I remember you begging that night.”

“You’re impossible.” I close my fingers in his hair and pull his face to mine. I can taste myself on his lips as he kisses me back. It feels intensely personal, and all I want to feel is his skin on mine. “Please.” I tear at his shirt while he grapples with his pants.

When we’re naked, he turns me around, fisting my hair and shoving me down onto the bed. Goosebumps bloom on my arms in anticipation.

His hard body covers mine from behind as he lines his bare cock up, whispering in my ear, “You’re so wet for me, Billie.”

“Yesss,” I hiss out as he licks the spot on my shoulder where I’m sporting a red mark the exact shape of his teeth. I grind my ass back against his steely length, aching for him.

“Tell me what you want, baby. Hard or soft?”

“Hard.” He slams into me, fully seated in one thrust. Breath rushes out of my lungs in one breath as my body adjusts to his size. “And then soft.”

His dark chuckle rolls across my skin like static electricity, snapping at my nerve endings. “Whatever my girl wants, she gets.”

We sink into each other. Ravenous. Two broken people, damaged by the ones meant to love them the most, finding solace in each other’s arms.


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