Page 5 of Saddle Studs (Rainbow Ranch #3)

SAM

Rainbow Ranch was just how I remembered it and completely different at the same time.

The tree I’d always used as a base for freeze tag was still there, but everything else around it seemed to have been cleared by a tornado.

The main home was still the same, too, just with a fresh coat of white paint, a new black door with a fancy glass window, and a relaxing porch that still smelled like the fresh wood they had used to build it.

Planters full of pastel-colored lilies hung off the pristine white rail.

Damn, did I have some memories around here. Most of them great memories, some of them the complete opposite.

“Sam!”

Beau was the first to greet me. He came bounding out of the front door like a lab running toward a soldier returning home from war.

I wrapped him in a tight hug. Aside from Benny, Beau was the closest Adams sibling to me.

He always felt like the big brother I never had.

We liked the same music, enjoyed the same sports—basketball and football—and shared a similar sense of humor.

There was a bit of an age gap and a general distaste of texting from both of us that made keeping in touch difficult, but seeing him today felt like no time at all had passed.

“How’s it going, bro?”

“Great,” Beau answered with a beaming smile. “Wasn’t expecting any of this to happen, though.”

“Neither was I.”

“Sorry about Frankie,” Beau said, reaching out and giving my elbow a squeeze. “I remember you two were close.”

“We were. He kept the whole mini-horse and parcel of land a secret, though.” I chuckled and shot a quick glance up toward the pearly blue sky. “I’m not here to take any of it, just so you know.”

“I know,” Beau said, “Although if I’m being honest, maybe you can take Dennis. He’s a mean little bugger.”

Another peel of laughter rolled from my chest. “Is he? Well, I doubt I could take him back with me to Jersey, but maybe I can rehabilitate him while I’m here.”

“You know much about horses?”

“Not a damn thing,” I said.

Beau smiled wide at that. He reached around me and grabbed my suitcase before I could brush him off.

I didn’t want this to feel like a hotel stay.

I came back here to work, to connect with my roots, and to let go of all the bullshit (and failure) that haunted me back in the city.

“I got it,” I said, grabbing a sliver of the handle.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll take it to your room.”

“Seriously, I can take it.”

“You’re our guest.”

“A guest who can carry his suitcase.”

Beau looked like he was going to let go.

I gave a gentle tug and pulled the suitcase away from his grip.

The wheel hit a crack in the driveway and wobbled.

A loud cracking sound followed as the handle snapped off.

I tried to grab the suitcase but managed to grab the zipper instead.

It opened as it fell upside down, spilling most of my clothes onto the ground.

Beau looked horrified. I didn’t want to make a big deal about it, so I waved it all off. “This piece of shit was one trip away from breaking anyway,” I reassured him.

“Always making an entrance, huh?” The voice—one I instantly recognized—came from behind Beau.

No, there’s no way. He can’t be here. He’s off in Florida.

Beau turned and stepped to the side, revealing the exact man I’d been wanting to avoid. Benny Adams. The youngest and sassiest and most annoying and kindest and funniest (and did I mention the most annoying?) brother.

Fucker didn’t even have a tan. So much for him living by a beach.

“Benny…”

“I’m, uh, going to head back inside.” Beau must have been reeling in secondhand (and likely firsthand) embarrassment from the events of the last three minutes. He awkwardly dipped his head, as if he were bowing to royalty, then bolted back inside.

Benny’s eyebrows scrunched together. “A bow? Where the hell did that come from.”

A fluttering series of laughs escaped my chest, breaking some of the thick ice that had formed and solidified between us.

He looked... different. He was taller now, a little scruffier, his shoulders broader and chest more defined.

He wore a tan cowboy hat that accentuated his dark features.

He had a pair of thighs that looked about ready to burst through his bootcut blue jeans.

Those damn amber pools of his caught the sunlight and glittered as he looked at me.

I should have asked someone if Benny was still around before coming to the ranch.

Then I could have avoided this entire situation.

Now I had to pick up my socks and underwear off the ground, stuff it into my busted suitcase, and take my happy ass back to the airport.

Fuck this. Going along with this wild inheritance thing was a mistake.

I’d email a lawyer once my plane touched down to figure out how I could transfer ownership without completing the ninety-day stay.

“It’s good to see you again, Sam.” He shot a glance down at my clothes. “And good to see you still wear the same kind of old man boxers.”

An irrational flush of embarrassment warmed my face. I crouched down and flipped my suitcase right side up. “Don’t worry, I barely wear any underwear nowadays.”

Why did I just say that? Why did I just say that?

“Oh really?” Benny asked, slightly more curious and suddenly less prickly. “Guess that’s more economical.” He lifted up a pair of oversized plaid boxers, eyebrow arched. “God, you’re so straight.”

I snatched the boxers out of his grip and stuffed them into the suitcase. I collected the last couple of stragglers, zipped it up, and stood it on its wheels. Seconds later, and the suitcase flopped over with an audible thud, as if it were giving up entirely.

Same.

Benny chuckled. He quickly bent down and put the suitcase upright again.

I grabbed the broken handle and then pulled out my phone, opening the Uber app.

I could order a car and get to the airport in an hour.

I wasn’t sure if there were even any flights I could take, but I figured I could hang out there or get a room at the hotel next to the airport.

Anything to get me out of this awkward—and painful—blast of memories.

Shouting. Crying. Pushing. I’ll never love you the way you deserve. You broke me. More crying.

Fuck.

I need to go.

“Sorry,” I said as I ordered my ride. “I think this is all a sign. I should be back home, dealing with the bullshit I’m trying to put behind me.”

“What are you doing?” Benny asked with his arms crossed and a pointed stare aimed at my phone.

“Ordering a ride back to the airport.”

“Cancel that right now. You’re not going anywhere. Especially not after I found out you like to go commando.” Benny cocked his head. “Kidding, kidding. But not about cancelling the ride. I’m serious as a heart attack with that one.”

“I just… I wasn’t expecting to see you.”

“You weren’t expecting to see me at my family’s ranch, where I’ve lived all of my life and have zero intentions of ever leaving? That’s where you weren’t expecting to see me?”

“Right. Yeah. I mean, I saw you on Instagram and you were posting at a beach. I thought you moved.”

“Thank God you went into PR and not detective work. I haven’t posted on Instagram in like three years. Those pictures are from a trip I took to Florida for a horse show.”

Shit, I hadn’t checked the dates on his posts. I was so focused on, um, the scenery and framing of the photos—and certainly not the fact that he was shirtless and wearing a speedo in most of them—to even check the date. That would have saved me quite a bit of trouble.

“Come on, Herlock Sholmes, cancel your ride and follow me to your room so you can get set up. Then I’ll show you around the ranch. You can meet your new buddy, Dennis.”

There was a brief moment where time seemed to have frozen.

My options were laid out in front of me: cancel my ride and succumb to whatever twisted fate was in store for me at Rainbow Ranch, or tell Benny it was nice seeing him, hop in the Uber, and drive off into the horizon, sure I’d never come back.

“Well?” Benny asked. He wore an easy grin on his face. A memory of that grin twisting into a tear-streaked grimace slashed across my mind.

I’d hurt him.

I’d hurt him and hurt myself.

I ran away.

I couldn’t stay and face him.

But maybe I could still make it right somehow. At least I could apologize for what a fucking asshole I’d been.

“Fine,” I said, cancelling the ride and accepting the five dollar fee. “Where am I going to be staying?”

It could have all been in my head, but I couldn’t help but notice a subtle shift in Benny the second I confirmed I’d be staying. His smile grew wider—so wide that his singular dimple on his left cheek decided to make an appearance.

It was enough of a reaction to confirm I was making the right choice. Maybe I’d leave Rainbow Ranch not just feeling refreshed, but also reconnected with an old friend. That’d be nice.