Page 21 of Ace of Spades (Hidden Creek Ranch #1)

“You remember how I told you about the guest ranch? We all have roles around here to keep the business going, but none of us know the first thing about marketing or running a social media page. You could work on it when you’re home during the week, and you wouldn’t have to work weekends since we would all be at rodeos anyways. ”

I think it through, excitement blooming in my chest.

“Wait, do you really mean that?”

“Yeah, I do. I would have to run it past the other guys, of course, but I’m sure they would love the idea.

Chance had started putting together a budget for the project, I know that he had allocated a certain amount towards marketing and advertising that we would pay you.

I don’t know exactly how much, but at least it would be something.

As long as it isn’t a conflict of interest with your dad’s resort and all, but it sounds like you two aren’t exactly on the best terms right now, so… ”

“Wes, that’s—” I cut myself off, realizing that I was already sounding way too excited. “I mean, yeah. I’ll have to think about it. And it wouldn’t be a conflict of interest, I don’t want anything to do with his projects.”

He chuckles, urging Lark forward. We break through the branches, a creek coming into view.

Both of our horses come to a stop on the rocky banks, the sun reflecting off of the running water as birds chirp in the distance, the sound of running water against the rocks bringing a sense of calm.

A field of yellow and white flowers bloom on the opposite bank, only about a stone’s throw away.

I nudge Casino a step forward, her hooves edging closer to the bank, the earth softening and giving slightly under our weight. I feel Weston’s eyes on us, the heat from his gaze lighting me on fire as it always seems to do.

“What is this place?” I ask.

“We call it the Hidden Creek. Not very original, I know. But we’re the only four who know about it, and we agreed to always keep it that way. Even the ranch hands don’t know it’s here. The only exception is Chelsea, of course, now that she and Beau have gotten serious. And now, you, I guess.”

“Why?” I ask. “Why did you bring me?”

He shrugs. “I guess I felt like you needed it. ”

With that, he dismounts, throwing Lark’s reins over her neck as walks to her side and undoes her saddle, lifting it off of her and placing it at the foot of a nearby boulder, the mare waiting patiently for his return.

“You coming?” he asks, leading Lark into the creek, water engulfing both of them until it reaches right below Weston’s waistline.

Hesitating for a moment, I swing my leg over Casino’s side, following Weston’s lead and removing her saddle before leading her into the water.

The chill hits me immediately, my jeans getting soaked as I trudge my way through the stream, Casino bobbing her head up and down as she snorts in excitement.

I can’t help but laugh as my mare drops down in a crouch before falling to her back, rolling around in the water a few times before standing back up and shaking herself off like a wet dog.

“So, I know that you know your horse better than me, and all,” Weston says, earning an eye roll from me. “But it seems like she’s enjoying this.”

“I said I was sorry,” I say, splashing him with water as he chuckles. We let the horses decompress, walking them up and down the creek for the rest of the afternoon until the skies begin to turn grey with the threat of rain.

“We should probably head back,” Weston says. “You know the weather around here, it could be sunshine and rainbows one minute and a monsoon the next.”

As if he had predicted it, the rain hits right as we tack our horses back up, drenching the both of us as the woods around us grow eerily dim .

“We’d better go,” I say, trying not to panic at the thought of being stuck out here when the storm hits.

“Sorrels,” he calls to me as I mount Casino. “It’s just a summer rainstorm, we’re fine.”

“I know,” I say, trying to convince myself of just that. I must not do a good enough job of hiding my fear, because Weston is atop Lark and at my side in the next moment.

“Hey, talk to me,” he says, the wind picking up strength around us.

“I just—I don’t like storms, that’s all, it’s not a big deal or anything,” I tell him, turning Casino towards the woods that we came from.

“Sorrels,” he calls, trotting up to my side and grabbing one of Casino’s reins to stop her. “Look at me. It’s just rain, okay?”

It starts coming down around us, as if summoned by his words. My breathing quickens, causing Casino to begin pawing at the ground beneath us.

“Hailey,” he drops my reins and reaches for my face instead, his large hand gently grabbing me by the nape as our horses press together underneath us. “Breathe.”

“I’m not crazy, I swear,” I nervously laugh.

“I just don’t like storms. I don’t even have a reason or anything, they just make me nervous.

I feel like bad things always happen during storms, you know?

Like, during the movies—when it’s storming, it typically means that something bad is about to happen.

And even in real life, nothing good has ever happened during a storm.

They spook the horses, they soak the arena, they cause accidents—I just don’t like them, okay? ”

“Okay,” he says, his tone calm and patient. “You want to hear something funny?”

“Sure,” I tell him, the two of us starting to walk once more.

“I actually love storms.”

“You do?”

“I do. Storms remind me of cozy nights camping out in the living room with my mom and Kota. They remind me of Kota at the age of five, begging me to come dance with her out in the pouring rain.”

I stay silent, letting my racing heartbeat calm down at his words.

“You just have to look at it differently, that’s all,” he tells me. “Now, what do you say we race back to the stables?”

“Are you crazy?” I ask, my head whipping towards him.

“The sooner we get back, the sooner we can be out of this rain,” he tells me as the rain comes down even harder, the wind blowing it in every direction as it runs off of the brim of his cowboy hat.

“I don’t know, Wes,” I say, going back and forth in my head.

“Suit yourself,” he responds. “Me and Lark probably would’ve smoked you guys anyways, and I wouldn’t want to leave you in here by yourself.”

My head whips towards him, taking in the smug look on his face. I don’t even give him a warning before I kick Casino forward, leaning forward in the saddle as we take off.

We zig-zag through the trees and brush, racing at full speed through the forest ahead. Her hooves beat against the soft ground below, my smile widening as the wind and water slap me in the face, a liberating feeling flowing through my veins.

I was wrong about one thing—I had never thought about the movies where epic things happen during the storm.

Where battles are won, and heroes are made.

In this moment, I wasn’t thinking of the gloom that came with the rain, I was thinking about how amazing it felt to run through it, how wild and free I was.

A laugh bubbles out of my chest as I throw a glance over my shoulder, finding Weston and Lark right on our tail.

“Eat my dust, Langford!” I yell back at him, urging Casino to kick it up a gear.

I reach the stables first, Weston right behind me as we slide off of the horses, both of us laughing as we run into the stables.

“Not too shabby,” he tells me. “I almost had you there at the end.”

“No way!” I argue, shoving him playfully. “You guys weren’t even close.”

We put the horses away, setting the saddles out to dry as we make our way to the entrance of the barn, rain now pouring down, causing puddles to form throughout the dirt trail leading back to the house.

I look up at Weston, finding him already studying me.

“You did that on purpose, didn’t you? Distracting me?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

A dimple forms over his features as he offers me a tooth-eating grin.

“Thanks,” I tell him after a moment, my tone genuine .

“Anytime. Now, are you ready to run?”

I look out through the cords of rain curtaining the barn entrance and the storm beyond, the faint echo of thunder rumbling in the distance.

“I guess,” I say, my nerves threatening to make an appearance once more.

“I’ll race you back to the house?”

“Oh, please–that’s not going to work on me twice.”

“Go!” he yells, taking off ahead of me.

“Weston!” I exclaim, breaking into a sprint behind him.

I catch up in no time, surpassing him as we take the turn down the dirt road leading to his house and my camper, rain soaking every inch of us as we both sprint down his driveway.

I see him catching up in my peripheral, and I attempt to swerve in front of him and cut him off at the last minute, but I slip through the mud and cause us to collide instead.

Weston’s arms wrap around me as we come down, spinning me so he takes the brunt of the impact and I land directly on top of him, both of us landing in the mud with a grunt.

“What the hell was that, Sorrels?” he pants, the two of us breathing heavily as we lay on the ground. My hands are glued to his chest, my body pressed to his, our faces mere inches apart.

His arm remains wrapped around my middle, holding me to him.

He seems to finally realize the position that we’re in, our eyes locking as we both try to catch our breath.

I feel his hard chest beneath me, my pulse quickening at how close we are.

I feel a heat building in my core, an ache that thrums with need.

Before I have a chance to overthink, I press my lips to his.

They’re soft and warm, and melt perfectly with mine.

He doesn’t react, completely caught by surprise, and I feel like a complete idiot all of a sudden.

What was I thinking? I had gotten so caught up in the heat of the moment, I hadn’t stopped to think of the repercussions.

What If I had been reading everything completely wrong?

I could have sworn there was this spark between us, but it could have all been my imagination.

Right as I begin to pull away, preparing to apologize and live in mortification, his arm around my waist tightens, his free hand coming up to grab me by the nape.

“Don’t you dare pull away from me,” he breathes, his tone low and gravely, before pulling me back down and slamming his lips onto mine.

His mouth doesn’t leave mine as he flips us over in one fluid movement, laying me onto my back as he presses into me, using one arm to brace himself over me as the other tangles in the hair at my nape, tilting my head back to kiss me deeper.

He devours me like a starved man, his hold on me possessive and primal. I let myself sink into his touch, his tongue pressing against my lips, demanding entrance. His buckle grinds against that sweet spot between my legs, drawing a moan from my lips as heat spreads through my core.

He emits a throaty groan as I rub myself against him, his hold in my hair tightening as he kisses me deeper, faster, harder. The world around us seems to disappear—the rain, the storm, all of it fading into nothing as I let myself fall into him.

I let my hands roam up his body, sinking beneath his soaked t-shirt and eliciting a shiver out of him. His hips thrust against me as I moan into his mouth, the friction causing my senses to go haywire. I feel like I might die if I don’t get more, like he’s air and I’m drowning .

The sound of tires rolling through the wet dirt draws our attention, our kiss breaking just in time for headlights to hit us in the face. I bring my hand up to shield my eyes, Weston getting up from between my legs and grabbing my hand to help me to my feet.

The headlights turn off, Beau’s tall and skinny frame coming into sight as he steps out of his truck and walks toward us.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Weston grinds out, clearly not happy with the fact that we were interrupted. I can’t say I’m exactly pleased, either.

Beau smirks, a knowing smile stretching across his boyish face.

“Well, Chelsea sent me down here to make sure you guys were okay since neither of you were answering your phones. I’m supposed to tell y’all that dinner’s ready in fifteen at the lodge, but I can tell them you guys are gonna be running a bit late,” he winks.

“We’ll be there in a minute,” I say, a blush creeping across. “We just need to shower and change real quick, we got caught in the storm on the way back from riding.”

“I’m sure y’all did,” Beau smirks, earning a growl from Weston. I wait until Beau is back in the truck and driving away before I turn to him, smacking him in the chest.

“Are you a caveman?

“What?”

“You can’t go around growling at people, Weston!”

He rolls his eyes dramatically as I turn to walk back to my trailer .

“Text me when you’re out of the shower, I’ll pick you up and we can drive down together,” he says, walking back in the direction of his house.

I throw myself onto the couch as soon as I make it back to my camper, not caring that I was soaking wet. Gypsy jumps up on top of me, licking my face all over as I stare up at the ceiling, processing everything.

What just happened?