“Yeah, well, my parents did, but I guess my papa had a thing for horses. He worked at Aqueduct since he was a kid, mucking out, doing anything he could to be near them. By the time he married my mama, he’d gotten a job down here, at Keeneland. That was a Big Deal—capital B and D. As you’d know.”
“So you and your brothers …” She could listen to him talk for hours. His voice was low and rough, but hit her like sweetest, honey-infused bourbon poured over her twanging nerves.
“Born and raised in right here in God’s country, ma’am.” He tipped the brim of his cowboy hat with a grin that almost did her in. “All three of us, plus a sister.” He averted his eyes, bent down to grab a bit of hay and stuck it in his mouth. “She’s dead, though.” He crossed himself and closed his eyes, moving his lips in a sort of silent homage.
“I’m sorry.” She was. But she was also so intrigued she wished she could stay here all day and into the night, skipping the stupid celebration of her engagement to the vapid frat-boy Will Scott. An awkward silence saturated the space between them, making her antsy.
“Yeah,” he said gruffly. “So, she’s ready.”
Lindsay blinked, confused. “Oh, right. Thanks, Tony.” She accepted the reins, but stood still, frozen in place.
He had his fingers hooked in his belt loops, that silly piece of hay tucked into a corner of mouth. His stance was loose-limbed, easy, and tempted her more than anything had in her entire almost twenty-one years.
“What’s your real name?”
He frowned and took off his hat, running fingers through his thick black hair. “Well, I reckon it’s Tony. What else would it be?” He grinned and plunked the hat on his head. “If you’ll excuse me, miss—um, Lindsay. I have work to do.” He turned away, sending panic racing down her spine.
“Is it Anthony?” She felt foolish, trying to force the damn barn help to keep flirting with her. But she could not seem to stop herself.
He turned to face her, those full lips so perfect she had to keep a death grip on the horse’s bridle to keep from tackling him to the dirt and hay-covered floor. What she’d do then, she had absolutely no idea. But she had a feeling her lack of knowledge wouldn’t be an impediment.
“No. It’s Anton. Anton Dominic, actually. After some uncles. Once they make it down to the third son, an Italian family usually has to dip into that layer for namesakes.”
“Anton,” she whispered, then smiled. “Okay. That’s what I’ll call you, then.”
“Lindsay,” he said. With a tip of his hat he walked off, whistling for the stable boy to come running. Lindsay exhaled and leaned her face into Daisy’s neck, gripping her mane, breathing in the smells of the world she loved while her brain swirled with images of all the naughty things, most of which she had only imagined, that she wanted to do right then with Anton Dominic Love.
Chapter Five
Her party was a total bore, complete with annoying future in-laws and toasts from Will’s half-drunk friends. After the canapés were gone and the crowd thinned, she ducked to the ladies’ room to splash her face with water and stare at her reflection, wishing she could be anywhere but here.
“Lindsay?” She spun around, hearing Will’s voice and wondering if she might get away with pretending she wasn’t in here. “Sugar?”
“Don’t call me that,” she said, wiping her hands with a towel and tossing it to the girl who took care of the restrooms. “Hang on a second.”
She walked out and straight into him. He grabbed her arms, pressed her against the wall and kissed her, though not quite as sloppily as the last time. She let it happen, curious more than anything else, to find out what happened next. She opened her lips to him, molding her body against his. Her skin tingled and she took his hand and put it on her breast, then reached down to touch the hard lump alongside his zipper. He grunted and moved out of her reach, wiping his hand across his lips and glaring at her.
Lindsay’s head was spinning. The concept that she wouldn’t even be allowed to participate in … in this thing with her own husband, made anger simmer across her nerves. She stepped right up to him, went up on her tiptoes, wrapped her arms around his slightly sweaty neck, and kissed him. Even after going so far as to use her tongue to force his lips open in a way she was making up as she went along, he remained stiff, not even touching her.
Finally, with a weird sound between disgust and impatience, he took her arms and disentangled himself, his deep blue eyes shining with what she saw immediately was fury. “Don’t ever do that again,” he whispered, pushing her backwards so they were in the small alcove outside the bathrooms.
“We are gonna have one boring marriage if I can’t even kiss my own h-h-h-husband.” She hated herself for stuttering, but she was quaking with fury and no small amount of fear. He glared down at her, sweat beading his flushed forehead. She matched his glare, heart thudding in her ears, skin similarly flushed for reasons that did nothing but confuse her.
Just as he was reaching for her—to do what, she had no idea—a voice floated down the hall from the party. “Hey, Scott, you here?”
Will blinked and stepped away from her. Lindsay stayed pressed to the wall, watching him, trying to conjure something good about him. A familiar expression crossed his face, somewhere between confusion and frustration, before he turned away.
“Sorry, Linds,” Don said, draping an arm over her intended’s shoulders. “Gotta steal your sweetie a few minutes.” He mimed tipping a glass to his lips. They laughed.
She rolled her eyes but the hand she put to her mouth once they’d turned away was shaking. After giving herself a minute or two to calm down, she squared her shoulders and rejoined the party. Marching straight up to the bar, she looked the bartender in the eye and ordered a bourbon. He blinked, then glanced over at the older guy who was wiping off the clean glassware.
“I’m the guest of honor,” she said, drawing herself up and trying to pull off her mother’s level of bossy/haughty. “I can drink whatever I please.”
“Yes, ma’am.” The kid blushed and dropped an ice cube into a heavy crystal rocks glass before splashing amber liquor over it. She frowned at it. He poured another splash. She gave him her prettiest smile. He blushed again.
She took it and turned, daring her mother or her father to say a word about it. They were nowhere to be seen. The room got a little fuzzy until she realized tears were blurring her vision. She gulped the bourbon fast—too fast. But the blaze of fire searing her chest gave her a modicum of strength. She turned and plunked the empty on the bar. The kid frowned at her this time, but dumped in a fresh splash.
She held it up to him and wandered off, seeking someone, anyone, she wanted to be with in this sea of her parents’ friends, Will’s drunk fraternity brothers, and total strangers. She dropped into a chair with a sigh and put her high-heels-clad feet up on the chair next to her, relaxing and sipping the booze, eyeing the party as if it wasn’t being thrown in her honor.
“There you are,” Kathy said, emerging from the crowd. “Lordy, Lindsay what are you doing over here?” She shoved Lindsay’s feet to the floor and sat, eyeballing the glass of liquor. “How did you get away with that?”
“It’s my party.” Lindsay finished it, acknowledging to herself that she probably could have been better served to sip that second one. “Go get us another.” She pushed the glass over to her friend.
“Are you insane?” Kathy’s face flushed. “I mean, how can I get it past our mamas? You know they’re watching us like hawks.” She glanced around.
“I don’t care. You shouldn’t either. They’re both probably drunk right now, as we sit here and worry about ‘em. Go on, Kathy. Honey. I need this. I can’t … I mean … Please?”