Page 50 of The Front Runner
“She told me she wished she never left this small town. That she should have stayed and trained racehorses. I don’t know… she wasn’t making much sense at the end. It was whispers and broken sentences. Maybe I’m on a wild goose chase.” He huffs out a small disbelieving breath. “Just before she died, she told me my biological father used to be the bartender in Ruby Creek.”
17
Mira
“Listen.”Nadia’s tone is so condescending that I flinch.
I’m jumpy today. I’ve barely slept for the past two nights. All the coffee in the world hasn’t helped—in fact, I’m fairly certain it’s making me worse.
“I can’t read whatever kind of sign language these dirty looks are,” I hear her say. “You’re going to have totalkto me. Or write it down or something. Wait, let me grab mycrystal ball.”
I shove the swinging door open from the back room to stop her there. Nadia has been excellent her first week. She’s a hard worker, a fast learner, and she has just enough of a backbone that the good ol’ boy farmers and ranchers in the area don’t walk all over her. Doesn’t hurt that they’re all too busy trying to impress her.
The girl is a looker.
But her charm appears to be lost on Griff. He’s glaring at her from beneath his signature black cap. The man can wear a pair of wranglers and cowboy boots like no one’s business, but he’s not chatty. He’s a different dude, for sure. He trailers his horses to the clinic now and then for some work, spends a few days, and then heads back up to his cabin in the woods.
He’s a mountain man recluse personified.
“Griff! Good to see ya. You got those samples we talked about?”
The man just nods at me, places a paper bag on the front desk countertop, and then struts back out the front door like he owns the place.
“Piece of work,” Nadia mutters, rolling her brown eyes.
Brown.
It’s all I can focus on for a moment. Stefan’s eyes are green. Vibrant green. Like emeralds, and bright spring grass, and like… Hank’s.
Fuck me.Now that I’ve seen it, I can’t unsee it. Every time I close my eyes, I compare the two men on the backs of my eyelids. If it weren’t for the bump in his nose, Stefan would be a dead ringer for a younger Hank.
Maybe I’m imagining it. No doubt, there have been many a bartender in Ruby Creek. But the horse racing clue? I don’t know. It just seems like too big of a coincidence.
“Do I have something on my face?” Nadia rubs at the corners of her mouth self-consciously.
“No. No. Sorry. Just tired. I zoned out.”
“What the hell is wrong with that guy? He walked in here like he’s some sort of celebrity, like I should know him. Wouldn’t say a goddamn word. Manners leave something to be desired.” She huffs out the last part like she’s taking personal offense.
“Griff? He used to live around here.”
There are lots of stories about Griffin, none of which I feel are verified enough to share. Small town gossip can be unnecessarily cruel.
Nadia bristles and mutters, “Still a dick,” before turning back to the computer.
She’s been an immense help with organizing my schedule and keeping people paid up. It makes my life so much easier, and it doesn’t hurt that I enjoy her company. Sometimes, I have to remind myself that she’s only nineteen.
Stefan’s nineteen-year-oldhalf-sister. Does she know? Man. I thought my family was fucked up. But my drama is minor leagues compared to the bomb Stefan dropped on me the other night.
And then, there’s the kiss.
This is why I keep to myself. Why I don’t date. I dip my toe in the shallows, and suddenly I’m flung into the goddamn deep end. I’m at a loss for how to navigate this situation. What I know. My feelings. My body’s memory of Stefan owning me the way he did.
I’m fucked up.
“I need to go check on Loki,” I blurt out. Nadia looks at me like she doesn’t understand why I’m running my schedule past her. “I, uh, won’t be back. Can you lock up?”
“Of course.” Her pale gold curls shake with her head like I’ve asked her to do the most mundane thing in the world.
