“Yes, Oldenburg. Thanks.” She took the reins. “Rodeo? Are you a cowboy?”
Rodeo beamed. Even though his new love was motorcycles, he always jumped at the chance to talk about horses. “I was breaking colts before I could spell the word horse.”
“Which, with some practice, I’m pleased to say, he has finally learned along with some other one syllable words.”
Rodeo inclined his head toward me. “He gets a little touchy after he’s flown over the handlebars of his bike.” He smacked my arm and the snap of it vibrated the pain in my back. “Hey, did you invite our neighbor to the Halloween party? You’ve got to come. It’s this Saturday, and it’s clothing optional.”
Even with a sore back I managed to return the smack. “Idiot. It’s costume optional.” I cast her one of my infamous Cole King smiles. It was the same as my dad’s, only mine didn’t come with the rest of the Nicky King glow. “You should come. It’ll be fun. You can even bring a date. Or not. That would be good too. And I’ll just shut up and leave it at that because for some reason, and I’m blaming it completely on the dramatic fall from my bike, I’m sounding like a complete fool.”
She smiled and walked around to the side of her horse. “That’s really nice of you, but I don’t think so.” She pulled herself into the saddle and gazed down at me with those pearly green eyes. I was hoping for a ‘really nice to meet you, Cole’. “You should probably go home and take some aspirin for that bruised butt.” She pulled the reins and turned her horse around. We watched as she trotted toward home.
Rodeo came up next to me and clamped his hand down hard on my shoulder. “I’m thinking electric blue instead of cherry red.”
I smacked his hand away. “I need a beer . . . and a fucking aspirin.”
Chapter 4
Kensington
I heard the motorcycles buzz in the distance. Bentley hardly noticed the sound. Now that his muzzle was pointed in the direction of the stables, he had only one thing on his big horsey brain and that was food.
I glanced back toward the sound. A long trail of dust followed the two riders as they rode off. I hated admitting it to myself but I’d found Cole interesting, or, at the very least, appealing in a shallow, charming way. Even though fair hair and eyes wasn’t usually my type, he was undeniably handsome with an expensive, perfectly straightened smile, the one boy next door concession to an otherwise typical muscular, tattooed bad boy appearance.
We reached the gate to the inner yard. I climbed off Bentley’s back and pushed up the irons. The incident on the trail could have ended a lot worse. I was relieved everyone had walked away from it smiling. Now that the usually vacant property next door was occupied, I was going to have to keep my ears and eyes open on the trail.
I led Bentley into the barn and put him in the cross ties. I’d left my phone on the bench in front of his stall. It was blinking with a new text from Nate. “Call me.”
I put the phone back down just as it rang. I answered. “Your text said for me to call you. Which I was planning to get around to eventually.”
“Come on, Kensie, you’re not still mad at me, are you?”
“To be honest, I’ve hardly given it any thought at all.”
“See, you are pissed. Did you get the roses?” A feminine giggle followed his voice through the phone. I wasn’t fooling myself. Being a Supercross champion had earned Nate a large following of female fans, and I’d come to grips with it. At the same time, I wasn’t completely convinced he was worth the effort of coming to grips over anything, especially other women.
“My dad mentioned something about some roses coming to the house, but I wasn’t sure who they were from. I’m still in the stables. And my horse is pawing at the ground. He’s hungry, and I need to unsaddle him.”
“Let’s go to dinner tonight, sweetie. I want to see you.” Another giggle punctuated his words.
“Jeez, Nate, it sounds like you’re sitting in the center of a school bus filled with teenage girls.”
“Nah, Kyle and Trey are here with some friends, that’s all. What do you say about dinner?”
“I’ve got a lot of work to do. Another night, Nate.”
“Oh come on, babe, don’t be like that.”
Bentley snorted impatiently and whinnied low and deep, to remind me he was still there and still saddled and still hungry. “I’ve got to go, Nate.”
“Wait, don’t hang up yet. If not tonight, how about a Halloween party this Saturday? This guy who rides freestyle for Koolman Energy Drinks sent me an invite. He lives right next to your dad’s place. Should be cranking. The place is owned by Nicky King.”
“Who?”
“Nicky King of Black Thunder. I guess his kid is living there right now. I’ll pick you up at nine and wear something hot. Of course, you’re so naturally smoking—”
“Nate, stop. I’ll think about the party.” The laughter in the background grew louder. “You should get back to your visitors. Bye.” I hung up.
Bentley sprayed me with a loud, liquid snort. “Nice.” I wiped off my shirt. “Jeez, animal, you have the patience of a two-year-old.”
I unfastened the girth and yanked the saddle off his back. My gaze strayed through the open door at the end of the breezeway. The top of the house next door was the only thing visible over the brick retaining wall lining the back end of the property. I wanted to kick myself for being even the slightest bit intrigued by the ‘boy next door’ a phrase that made me nearly laugh out loud as soon as it passed through my mind. Especially if he was Nicky King’s son, a detail that should have turned me off completely. And yet, that little, wild voice inside me, the one that occasionally managed to grab the reins and steer me away from reason, was telling me to go to the party.
Chapter 5
Cole
Denver leaned down over his laptop and lifted his finger. “Prepare to be fucking amazed.” He tapped a key and the Rocky Horror Picture Show popped up on the sixty inch flat screen, its famous soundtrack blaring through the surround sound speakers. A white, chemical smelling mist circled up from the fog machine. The two life-sized mechanical zombies at the living room entrance started groaning and three black bats flew back and forth on the wire we’d strung across the room. Denver lifted his finger like E.T. and stared at it proudly. “One touch and it’s Halloween.”
I walked over for a fist bump but then pulled back. “I don’t want to injure that magical finger. The Taco King caterers are done setting up the taco bar, and the booze and drinks are ready to go.” I looked around at the cheesy decor. “Looks like we’ve got ourselves a party.”
Rodeo nodded. “Yep.” He’d ripped up a shirt and smeared on some zombie makeup, complete with one long chunk of skin hanging off his forehead. I had to hand it to him, he’d put in a lot more effort than Denver and me. Denver had pulled on an old Star Trek uniform shirt and declared himself Captain Kirk. And I’d bought a gold crown and a red princely cape. Both were already annoying the hell out of me.
Rodeo walked over and picked up some peanuts with his green rubber fingers. “Of course the only thing that will really make this party a success is the costumes. To be more specific—the women’s costumes. Or to be even more specific, the lack thereof. Skimpy always wins the day in my book.”
“You mean like the skimpy amount of brain cells in your head,” Denver quipped.
“Fuck you, you comic book nerd.” Rodeo heaved a peanut at him. Denver snatched it from midair and shoved it in his mouth. “We’ll see who gets more girls—the cool zombie or the Trekkie boy with a hard on for Volcanoes or whatever the hell those pointy eared dudes are.”
“It’s Vulcans, you anti-culture caveman, and your fake skin chunk is coming loose. Maybe it’ll drop in your beer. But you’re right, I’m sure the women will be all over you.” Denver looked my way. “So, who the hell are you supposed to be? A king, King?”