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The Wild Ones

The Wild Ones (The Wild Ones #1)(55)
Author: M. Leighton

But it’s too late. It’s already opening up in my gut—hope. Maybe she’d changed her mind somewhere along the way, but just didn’t have the nerve to come find me. After all, I never got to tell her how I feel, even after she’d accidentally told me she loved me. Maybe I should’ve. Maybe that would’ve made a difference.

Sooty and I talk shop for a little longer, but my mind is far, far from the conversation. All I can think about is Cami and if I should find a way to run into her, just to see if maybe she’s having regrets, too. I wouldn’t be disrespecting or pressuring her that way. I could make it casual, just enough of a run-in to gauge her reaction.

We say our goodbyes and Rusty and I make our way to the stands to watch the race. I keep an eye out for Jack, but don’t see him.

When the race is about to start, it’s no surprise that I’m already rooting for Highland Runner. I’m almost as invested in him as I am Rags. I feel like they’re both mine, my projects, my winners. My validation.

The gun goes off and the gates open. The race is on. I can’t imagine being any more tense if my own horse was running. I feel like every muscle in my body is tight, on edge. And when Runner crosses the finish line a full head ahead of the next closest horse, I’m on my feet raising all hell before I can even think twice.

“Dude, calm down. You act like that’s your horse out there,” Rusty says from beside me. “Are you forgetting that’s the competition?”

I can’t stop smiling. “No, I’m not forgetting. But this win is proof that I can do it, that I know what the hell I’m talking about. They all doubted me, but now they see.” In my head, Cami’s face on the beach at Currituck swims by. She didn’t doubt me. I don’t think she ever really did. “I can pick a winner, Rusty.” I turn to him and grab both his arms. I have the ridiculous urge to hug him and slap him on the back. I don’t, but in my excitement, I do thump his chest with my fist a couple times. I can’t help it. “Whooo! Holy shit, I can actually pick the winners!”

I’m relieved. And excited. And relieved to be excited. That’s been markedly absent since Cami. I’m so caught up in it, I pay little attention to the people around me as we make our way toward the Winner’s Circle. I have to congratulate Sooty. And maybe let Sooty congratulate me. That might be pretty cool. More than any of that, though, I want to look Jack Hines in the eye, even if it’s from a distance, and let him see that I know. He needs to see that I know I was right. And that he was wrong.

The crowd gets denser the closer I get to the circle. Luckily I’m tall, so I can see above the majority of heads between me and the people I’m looking for.

I spot Sooty first. He’s standing there like a proud father. Beside him is Jack Hines. His arm is over Sooty’s shoulders like they’re the best of friends. I snicker. I doubt Jack is anybody’s friend. Jack looks out for Jack and nobody else. Except maybe Cami. And even that I’m not so sure of. He seems more concerned with her making a good match than just being happy.

I keep my gaze trained on him until he looks my way. His expression changes almost imperceptibly when our eyes meet. It could be my imagination, but I don’t think so. It tells me all I need to know.

Jack Hines will never think I’m good enough, no matter the proof or the reward. Jack Hines will never approve of me—for his daughter, for his horses, for his respect. Jack Hines will always see my father when he looks at me. Jack Hines will always be distrustful and superior, hard to please and snobby.

But he’s the father of the person I’m pretty sure I can’t live without, the person I know I don’t want to live without. So where does that leave me?

Maybe I should approach him, try to talk to him. Maybe that could be my way back into Cami’s good graces.

I’m debating the best way to handle the situation, the best way to handle him when I see a flash of red move behind Jack. It’s a color I see everywhere and nowhere, a color that haunts my thoughts all day and my dreams all night.

Instantly, Jack is forgotten when he turns and pulls his daughter in between him and Sooty. She looks amazing in a dark purple shirt that brings out that hint of violet in her eyes. Her hair is pulled up in a sexy way with a few pieces waving around her face and neck. Makes me want to get her alone somewhere and run my fingers through it. Mess it up the fun way.

She turns her head to speak to someone and I look behind her. It’s that douche of a boyfriend I thought she’d dumped. Brent.

My stomach and every last drop of hope I had plummets through the pavement.

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE – Cami

Brent is asking me something, but I can’t hear him over the crowd. I’ve wished a thousand times Daddy had at least had the balls and the decency to tell me he’d invited him. Not that it matters now. I’m stuck with him trying to be all attentive and touchy-feely. It’s driving me crazy.

Finally, when I feel his hand at my waist as he tries to get my attention, I turn to address him.

“What is it, Brent?”

I hate my snippy tone, but he’s pushing all my buttons for some reason. Probably because he’s not Trick, which he can’t help. But still…

His smile doesn’t falter. “I just got a call and I have to head back. Why don’t you ride back with me?”

I turn away from him, swallowing my frustration. I start to answer him, but my response dies on my lips when my eyes collide with the pale green ones that haunt my every waking minute. And many of my non-waking ones, too.

It’s Trick.

My heart flounders in my chest and I can’t breathe for just a second as he watches me. A thousand scenarios run through my head, most of them worthy of a made-for-television movie or at the very least a soda commercial. They all involve us running into each other’s arms in some way, shape or form.

But then his expression darkens, as if he’s not very happy to see me at all, and my dreamy visions drift away like smoke on the wind.

His lips thin and he turns and walks away. He doesn’t acknowledge me in any other way. He doesn’t bother with any kind of social nicety. He just gives me a dirty look and leaves.

I feel nauseous. And hopeless. And alone. Deeply alone. The kind of alone that says I will never find someone to take his place. That I will die missing him, wanting him, mourning him. And now I know there’s nothing I can do about it. His mother was right. There was no misunderstanding. Trick washed his hands of me when he left my house that day. All this time, I’ve been holding on to a dream, to an idea that doesn’t exist. I don’t think it ever did. I made much more of our relationship than he did. I was drowning in him, in us and he was…treading water until he started to swim again. Until he started to swim away. From me.

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