Page 70 of Buckin' Around

“I have been watching you, Spencer. All those women you claim, but never me.” When I meet her gaze, her eyes are blown out with lust. Her injury forgotten, she leans into me.

My brow raises on its own accord, along with the heat in my veins as anger coils in my gut.

Of all the conniving, sordid, underhanded fucking things...

“Take your hand off me, Priscilla,” I growl.

Delight flickers through her wrinkle-framed eyes before rage takes over.

“If you know what’s good for you and your little establishment, you’ll do what I say, boy.”

“Not in a million fucking years. Get out of my stables, and don’t bother coming back.”

She takes a step back, chin tilting up and shoulders setting back as she hisses, “You just made a grave mistake.”

No doubt. My life is a string of those. With this, however, I stand my ground. The likes of Priscilla Princeton are not welcome here. If I’d known the depravity of her intentions earlier, I would have done this months ago. Who knows who else she’s tried to force herself onto. And if she’s succeeded in doing so.

I make a mental note to hold a whole team meeting around this.

Nodding at the wide exit of the barn, I wave a hand toward it. “Now, Priscilla, before I have you escorted out by the police.”

Indignation twists her face, her thin lips wobbling as she stalks toward the barn exit. Flinging her riding crop at the unsuspecting stable hand who walks in and pays her a friendly smile, she huffs and disappears around the corner.

“Ah.” Evan flinches, cowering as the riding crop falls to the ground. “What was that for?”

I cross the barn and give Evan a once-over. “She won’t be back. I’m sorry she took out her frustrations on you. Are you alright?”

He nods, adjusting his cap.

“She looked pretty mad, boss.”

“She’ll get over it.”

I don’t believe she will do anything of the sort, nor will she go down with creating a shitstorm. But that’s my problem to handle, not anyone else’s.

Glenda is walking toward the barn, Ivy in her arms, as she stares at an enraged Priscilla speeding down the white gravel driveway, a spray of rocks flinging from the back tires of her black Mercedes.

Sighing, I head for Glenda and take Ivy from her arms.

“She’s going to make this hard for you, Spence.” Her brows are lowered, her eyes filled with worry.

She’s right.

I slide my phone out and swipe it open.

Riles, I need a favor. Something has gone down at work. Can you pick up Ives a little early? I need to use the last hour to settle my staff.

The three dots appear and then disappear.

I’m swaying on my feet automatically to keep Ivy happy as my phone goes dark a beat before it pings, the screen lighting up again.

Sure.

Thanks, I owe you.

I can be there at four.

Thanks, Riles. Seriously, I owe you one.