Page 44 of Flirting With My Brother's Billionaire Best Friend

It was the best kiss of my life, hands down. And that’s what makes this so dangerous. I can’t allow myself to get too close to Langston because I don’t want to end up hurting him in the end. I’m no good for him. I’m broken. I know I should be happy the way I am. With my great career, it shouldn’t matter that I can’t have kids, but it’s so ingrained in me that one day I’d be giving my parents grandbabies that I can’t help but feel this way.

The spring air smells sweet, like fresh blossoms. The leaves are sprouting on the trees now. It’s the perfect time for Hayden to be introduced to Blue Mountain. It’s beautiful year-round, but spring is one of the most gorgeous times of year. The dogwoods are blooming their white flowers, and pink fringe is popping up on the redbud trees.

Marshmallow is saddled up when I get to my parents’ house, and Valentine is out working with the trainer again to prepare for the Blue Mountain Derby.

I’m a little nervous about the race since Thunder was so close to beating Valentine, and then Langston admitted he was working extra hard to win the next one.

Just because I’ve kissed Langston, and it was toe-curling, doesn’t mean I’m willing to let him win.

I prod Marshmallow forward, and we pick up speed, the wind rushing through my hair as we fly across the field. Adrenaline pumps through my body. There’s not a roller coaster out there that could give me as much of a thrill as riding Marshmallow. And I love amusement parks. The scarier the ride, the better.

I hit Langston’s property at full speed and slow as I head down the trail that leads to his stable. He has a ton of acreage for a guy his age. But when you have the kind of money he has, you can do virtually whatever you want with it. Even if you want your own horse racing track on your land.

When I reach the stables, Langston and Hayden are out there. I haven’t told them I was planning to come over, so it’s a coincidence that they are doing horse stuff today too. Well, maybe not that much coincidence. Langston and I are equally obsessed with riding and all things horse related.

Hayden and Langston are both wearing cowboy hats, and I can’t help wondering where they found a cowboy hat for him.

Hayden looks up to see me, and his face lights up from beneath the brim of his hat. “Hi, Lady-I-Don’t-Remember-The-Name-Of.”

“Oh, it looks like you’ve inherited your father’s dimples as well as his sense of humor. My name’s Jenni.”

“Huh?” Hayden pokes at his face with both fingers. “I have his dimples?”

“It was the first thing I noticed about you.” I swing down from Marshmallow’s back. “Langston, show him.”

Langston smiles at Hayden, and his face lights up. “Hey! Those do look like mine.”

It’s incredible to see him so pleased to look like his dad. He’s surprised us all by how well he’s adjusting to having Langston in his life.

“Have you ever ridden a horse before, Hayden?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “Nope.”

“We were just talking about him trying it out.” Langston reaches up to pet Dash.

“Daisy is a good one for him to start with.” I point to the chestnut mare chewing on hay lazily in her stall. “She’s a really sweet horse. I think you’ll like her, Hayden.”

“Sweet?” He wrinkles his nose. “I want a fast one, like Thunder.”

Langston laughs. “You’d better stick to a horse like Daisy. Only the jockey rides Thunder.”

I look over at Langston. “You told him you race horses?”

“We were just starting to talk about it when you showed up,” Langston says.

“Did he tell you we have a big race coming up?” I ask, bending down to Hayden’s level.

“Yeah, the Blue Mountain Derby, and he’s racing against your horse, Mushroom.”

“Marshmallow,” I correct. “And Marshmallow isn’t my racehorse. It’s Valentine.”

“Oh, marshmallows are a much yummier food.” Hayden grins. “Hey, Dad? Can we have s’mores?”

“I think we can make that happen,” Langston says. “Have you ever been camping before?”

“No. My mom hates bugs, so she’s never taken me.”

This poor kid. He’s missed out on so much by not having a dad around. Every eight-year-old needs to experience camping with their dad.

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