Page 73 of Dirty Cowboy

“Only you and Dad know,” I correct quickly. “And it has to stay that way because if Tristan and Julian find out, they’ll kill us both.”

She laughs softly. “Don’t you worry about your brothers. They’re busy with…” She trails off, hesitation creeping into her voice.

“With what?” I press.

“Work,” she says too quickly.

“What else, Mom?”

A pause. Then, “Tristan has a consultation today with a new doctor.”

My breath catches. “What’s wrong with the old one?”

“Nothing’s wrong. They’ll be working together. Dr. Nguyen is coming by to discuss immune system support.”

I nod even though she can’t see me. “I’m hoping to come home after the weekend.”

“Good. That’s good, Emma.” Her voice softens. “I miss you, my love.”

“I miss you more,” I whisper. “Give Dad my love.”

“I will, sweetheart.”

We say our goodbyes, and I lower the phone, my fingers tightening around it as my emotions coil inside me.

A soft neigh pulls me from my thoughts. I look up. Shadow watches me, her dark eyes keen and thoughtful.

“What is it, girl? Have you been calling me?” I whisper, stepping closer.

She shifts on her feet, restless.

And for some reason, a shiver runs up my spine.

"Why are you stuck in here alone while your friends roam the fields?" I whisper, brushing my fingers along Shadow’s velvety muzzle. An urge to set her free tugs at me, but Eric’s stern warning plays in my head like a relentless drumbeat, pounding against my growing curiosity.

I grab a grooming brush and head toward the back where the saddles hang. As I push open the storage door, expecting the usual neat arrangement of equestrian gear, my breath catches at what I actually find.

Oh.

Oh.

Hanging from a beam above the saddles is an array of whips and chains—not the kind meant for horses. My fingers trail over a feathered whip, curiosity curling through me like smoke.

“Eric,” I murmur, letting my hand hover over a thick, perfectly coiled rope. “What exactly have you been up to, my dirty cowboy?”

A smirk tugs at my lips, heat licking at my skin as a dozen images of him—shirtless, all muscle and control—flash through my mind. Shaking off the distraction, I grab the brush and return to Shadow, her ears flicking back as I approach.

"Hey, girl." I extend my hand, letting her take in my scent. "Remember me? I’d love to take you for a ride."

She presses her nose into my palm, her breath warm and steady. I ease the stall door open, stepping inside with slow, measured movements.

"Good girl," I whisper, working the brush through her dark, silken coat. The rhythm of grooming soothes me, grounding me in the moment, tethering me to the steady rise and fall of her breath. My fingers move from her strong neck down her back, brushing away dust and tangles. She stays still, trusting me, and something deep in my chest swells with pride.

Once she’s ready, I grab the saddle pad, smoothing it carefully along her back before lifting the saddle into place. Her body shifts beneath my hands, muscles tensing, then relaxing.

"Are you gonna be gentle with me?" I whisper, tightening the girth and making the final checks. Shadow bows her head as if answering, a quiet promise between us.

I lead her outside, the sun pressing warm against my skin. Shadow prances beside me, light on her hooves, her energy mirroring my own bubbling excitement.

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