Page 51 of The Front Runner
“Thanks.” I grab my favorite brown coat off the hanger by the front door and shove my arms through as I head out the front door.
On the drive over to Cascade Acres, I mull over my best plan of action. For both problems: the kiss and what I think I might know.
The kiss needs to never happen again. I’ll have to tell him that much. I can’t handle it, and it’s not fair to get involved with my best friend’s nemesis. Perceived or not. Stefan and I can be friends. In secret. And he can be my client in public. That’s what I’ll offer him.
The next problem is less clear cut. I could find out his mother’s name and ask Hank. But that feels intrusive. He asked me not to share his story with anyone, and I won’t betray his trust. I don’t want to get his hopes up for nothing, because I could be very wrong, and I don’t want to drag Hank into something that might be nothing.
I think I just need to ask him more questions. Feel him out. Maybe we can chat in the barn. I’ll make coffee, and we can sit on the floor.
I look forward to our barn floor dates.Meetings?Barn floormeetings.
When I pull through the gates, from the bottom of the hill I see his SUV parked at the house, so that’s where I go. My palms slip on the steering wheel as the nerves creep in my stomach. I’m accustomed to having difficult conversations with people. It’s part of my job description. But this knowing and keeping secrets thing is killing me.
Having to keep him at arm’s length is killing me, too.
I pull up at his sprawling house up on the hill, and right as I step out of my truck, the front door opens and I’m met with the sight of a tall, shapely, blonde in a tight pencil skirt and expensive heels, leaning in to kiss Stefan on the cheek. My stomach flips and threatens to push itself up my throat.
She’s gorgeous. Standing next to Stefan in his expensive clothes, she’s the perfect match. My baggy canvas coat and ponytail look downright grubby in comparison. I realize I know nothing about Stephan’s dating history. Less than nothing, actually.
But this is perfect because I was drawing a line in the sand.Right?And I refuse to be the type of woman who lets this bother her. I’m good enough for him to kiss in a field, but in any other setting, we’re completely mismatched.
“Just don’t make me drive out to the boonies again. You can come to me next time,” the woman says with a genuine smile.
My throat thickens, and my stomach churns.I really am naive.
“Thanks, Jules.” Stefan chuckles and gives her a wave as she walks down the stairs before his eyes fall on me. “Dr. Thorne.” His voice is warm and gooey, and I want to punch him for thinking he can use that tone on me after having another woman over to his house.
And then I want to punch myself for even caring. Maybe it isn’t even what I think. Deep down, I have a hard time believing Stefan would do that to me. But I’m just far enough out of my league with him to feel insecure about it anyway.
“Hi. I’ll only be a minute.” I walk toward the front step and smile as I pass Jules. She smiles back kindly and gives a subtle dip of her chin. I don’t have it in me to hate other women, so I tell her exactly what I’m thinking. “Killer shoes.” There’s one wide buckle across her foot and a matching one that wraps around her delicate ankle in a sensual looking cuff. They really are hot. If I didn’t work in a small town and spend most of my days covered in horse shit, I’d rock the hell out of a pair.
Her perfectly white teeth flash back. “Thanks! Just got them.”
I reply with a small thumbs up and continue my beeline for Stefan while she heads over to her sporty BMW parked around the corner. Of course, she drives a BMW.
The sooner I can get this over with and get out of here, the better.
“Come in?”
“No. I can’t. I need to check on Loki and then get back to the clinic,” I lie.
He nods but can’t hide the disappointment that takes over his features for a moment.
“Listen… I don’t know how to phrase this gently, so I’m just going to say it. You can’t kiss me anymore.”
One brow quirks up as his arms cross, and he leans against the doorjamb. “Is that so?”
“It’s inappropriate. I shouldn’t have let that happen.”
His jaw ticks, but he doesn’t say anything. He just glares at me. Haunting me with those clear green eyes.
“I’m good with continuing whatever sort of friendship we’ve forged. But it needs to stay under wraps. And I’ll honor my end of the deal. One more date.”
“Mmhmm.” He sounds and looks pissed.
“You’re not my type. And I’m not yours. And it will be better this way.”
God.I’m rambling like an idiot.
