The Start of Something Good by Jennifer Probst
"And if she fights you?"
"She has no money! She has to do what I say."
Mia rubbed her temples, searching for a way to explain to the man what Chloe needed. "She needs to know she's more important to you than the election."
He spun around, his mouth falling open. "Are you kidding me? She's my daughter. She's the most important thing in the world to me, and she knows it. She's using it to manipulate me. Acting out to punish me for being here when her mother isn't."
She winced at the visible pain in his face. "I don't think so. Just talk to her, Jonathan. Spend some time with her outside of politics and surveys and numbers. Tell her exactly what you told me, and listen to her. I know it's hard."
"No, you don't," he said. "I asked you to keep her out of trouble, not try to crawl into her psyche and tell me what she needs. You're in charge of my PR campaign. Maybe it's time to remember that."
Her temper flickered. "I'm not the one who asked to put my life on hold to be with your daughter," she shot back. "I'm the one running around making sure we both get through this summer without any scandal."
"Good. Keep your focus, and leave being a parent to me."
"And what am I supposed to do when her so-called friends stop by or she wants to go out?"
"Nothing. For the rest of the summer, there's one rule: she's not to leave the inn unless you accompany her. No visitors. There's not much time before she's done with community service, and I'll bring her back home."
Frustration pumped through her body. He was missing the whole point again. "You can't ground her! She'll think it has to do with the election, don't you see? Just talk to her."
"This topic is closed. Unless you want me to switch over to Bennett & Associates PR? They've been begging me to jump and promising much better results."
She stiffened, struggling to remind herself he was a father scrambling for answers and didn't mean to act like an asshole. "That insults both of us at this point," she said quietly. "And if you mean that, you should've never asked me to watch Mia as a friend."
Regret flashed in his blue eyes. He muttered a curse and raked his fingers through his hair. "Shit. I'm sorry. I didn't mean that."
She nodded. "Okay. I know you're her father and trying to make the hard decisions. But I'm trying to explain I've been with her every day, and she's changing. She loves working with the horses and feeling responsible for something. She's looking for a connection with you, and ordering her to transfer to NYU isn't the answer. Please. I have a feeling there's something she hasn't told you about the vandalism."
"You think she did something else?"
"No, I can't explain it. Just a gut instinct I'm missing something. I'm asking for you to listen and hear her out before making a rash decision."
He regarded her in weary silence for a while, then nodded. "Fair enough. I'll try."
"Good. I'm sure Ethan is bringing her back, so I'll be in my room." Mia stood up from the chair and walked off the front porch. Why was Jonathan being so damn stubborn? What a mess. She hated getting involved with family matters, but spending time with Chloe had affected her. She cared what happened to the girl, and she had no one fighting for her. It would be so much easier if there were a bad guy and good guy in the scenario, but she felt bad for both of them and only wanted to help.
She prayed Jonathan would give her what she so desperately needed. She'd done her best.
Now it was time to hope they could find a way back to each other before it was too late.
Chapter Seventeen
The crack of lightning streaked through the sky. The ground rumbled with fury as thunder followed, but the air remained bone dry and humid, barely stirring. Ethan shrugged on a T-shirt and shorts, thrusting his feet into old sneakers, and closed the door behind him. Another night of no sleep was the norm. He might as well head out to the barn and check on the horses. Storms spooked even the steadiest, and they may need the company.
He had to pause a few times to rub his knee. Weather seemed to affect the muscles, along with memory. The ache seeped into bone and sinew, but he kept walking, embracing the pain, and remembering.
"You're not going to die. I promise you."
Bullets . . . agony . . . life bleeding away while he did nothing but watch.
If he'd been faster. Just ten seconds faster. Five. Would things be different?
Ah, fuck.
Sweat pricked his skin. Nausea swirled in his gut. Ethan leaned against a tree and concentrated on his breathing, forcing air in and out of his starved lungs until he managed to calm. Then he kept moving, sensing the rain would come shortly.
He reached the barn and checked on the horses. Most slept or rested, barely stirring even when they caught his presence. He made his rounds and opened the door to the final paddock, wincing as another boom of thunder split through the quiet.
Phoenix paced his stall in nervous fury. Ethan studied the shiny sheen of sweat on his coat, the pricked-back ears, and the desperate sounds coming from his mouth. Catching his scent, the horse whirled and stared at Ethan.
The ghosts had come.
Inky eyes rolled back, filled with desperation and rebellion. Heads raised, they assessed one another. Something rose up inside Ethan, driving him forward. The horse needed touch. Needed grounding. Needed to know there was comfort here. Love. Trust. All the things a human had taken and twisted needed to be relearned in the horse's mind and heart.
"Hey, Phoenix. Crappy night, huh? What is it about loud noises and rain that brings the bad stuff? But I think both of us need to be reminded it's a memory. A part of who we are now, but it shouldn't be enough to take away the right to live a life. A good life. Maybe right now, this could be the start of something good. But you have to take a leap one more time and trust me."
Nostrils flared. Recognition and wariness flickered in the horse's gaze. Thick humidity clogged and blocked fresh air, so Ethan peeled off his shirt and tossed it in the corner of the stall. With deliberate, careful motions, he unlatched the door and stepped into the stall. The horse's lips curled back in warning.
Ethan raised his hands slowly, a stream of soothing words falling from his mouth. "I'm going to find the sweet spot. Every horse has one--the place that reminds them of comfort and being safe. You're a beauty. Did someone try to race you and not like who you are? Try to beat you into submission? No one deserves that."
Phoenix backed up, his ass hitting the back of the stall. Ethan kept moving and talking, finally able to reach out and slowly rub his nose. Firm, but light. He deepened his voice, hypnotizing both of them away from the demons that raged outside and in. "That's a good boy. I'm not going to hurt you. No one will again. I made a vow not to break a promise. I did once, but I won't again. I swear it."
He murmured nonstop, stroking Phoenix's skin, watching every move and expression to sense what he liked or didn't like. Down the neck, over the left flank, to the side of the belly and back up, Ethan kept up the light massage until a tiny softening of muscle told him Phoenix liked touch right under his chin.
"Right there, huh? Figured you'd like your ass scratched, but I'm happy with this place. Good boy. Beautiful boy."
Another roar of thunder. Breath hissed out, and Phoenix jerked back. Ethan rubbed the spot under his chin, murmuring compliments, and the horse began to steady and relax once again.
Peace curled within. A small smile rested on his lips. He gave himself to the moment, to this one specific horse who deserved a second chance, and wondered if maybe he did, too.
A storm was coming.
Mia watched the sky from the front porch. A faint prickle of warning shot down her spine. Another night of insomnia had driven her outside, but a restless need for movement drove her forward.
She left the sanctuary of the porch and began to walk. The trees stirred with the same type of edginess, and the scent of ripe earth and pungent florals rose to her nostrils. Storms meant cuddling up under thick blankets to watch as an onlooker. Rain meant fancy umbrellas
Tonight, she did.
The memory of that heartfelt dialogue between Jonathan and Chloe hours ago haunted her. The shouted words vibrating through the walls, dragging her into such an intimate encounter.
"I will not have my daughter ruin both of our futures because of a few bad choices guised in teen rebellion!" Jonathan had hissed, frustration and temper mingling in a poisonous cocktail. "You've proven I can't trust you. At NYU, you'll have a fresh start and people who care about you."
Chloe's shout shook with her own mixture of pain and fury. "Like who, Dad? Who's in the city who really cares about me? Bernard? Your new assistants? Your secretary? It's not like you have time to see me. You barely got here and were already engaged in one of your new marketing plans to show the world what a great guy you are. You had no interest in seeing what I've been doing these past weeks!"
Mia imagined Jonathan's confused look. He must not have realized how selfish he looked by choosing to ignore his daughter in the first hour of his arrival. "You're doing community service--this isn't a paid vacation I sent you on. Do you think I like burying myself in work night and day? Don't you think I'd rather spend more time with you? I have no choice, unless you're telling me to drop out of the race. Is that what you want?"
"Why would I bother to ask? If you didn't do it for Mom, you wouldn't do it for me. All those nights spent at work. All those trips you missed because of your cases. Don't you know how much she hated it like I did?"
The silence was more shattering than a scream. Mia shuddered, pressing her hand against her lips. She almost headed out the door to stop them from hurting one another, but his next words stopped her cold.
"Your mother was the love of my life, Chloe. If she'd asked me to give it all up, I would've done it. But she wanted me to serve the public just as much as I did. To try and make a difference out there. She believed in action over intentions. Kindness over duplicity. Every single decision I make, I think about your mother and what she would've wanted me to do."
"Dad--"
"No, I'm not doing this with you any longer. I love you, but I'm not going to let you manipulate me by using your mother's memory. You cheated and vandalized. You're not the person I thought you were, and if I have to force you home in order to protect you, don't think I won't do it."
"Dad!"
The door slammed, echoing in the air, and then there was just silence.
Mia had checked on Chloe a bit later, but the girl refused to answer. The stillness inside had finally forced her outside for some peace.
Her path took her toward Ethan's bungalow, silent and dark. She ignored the flare of disappointment when she saw his light wasn't on. She'd fantasized he'd be waiting for her, waiting to take advantage of this strange mood and make good on all his promises of dirty, orgasmic, wonderful sex.
God, she didn't want to be alone tonight.
Mia hesitated and considered knocking on his door, but she didn't have the guts. So she kept going and went to the barns. A jagged arc of light exploded in the dark sky. Drops of cool water hit her overheated skin, offering some relief from the heavy heat. She tilted her head up, embracing the rain while trying to count the endless stars, and jerked only a little when the crack of thunder vibrated the ground beneath her.
In the silence that followed the explosion, she heard a low voice. She frowned, straining her ears, but it was snatched up in the wind. The rain picked up, slowly gaining force, and soon her cotton shirt and matching shorts were soaked. She should get back before she got caught in the storm. But something kept her in place, a gut instinct she'd miss something if she returned to the inn now. Not wanting to disturb the horses, she edged forward, closer to the large isolated pen in the back, where Harper kept her new rescues. Had Harper come out to check on the horses?
Wiping dripping rivulets of rain from her forehead, she moved farther into the last barn. The familiar rumble of a rich masculine tone echoed. Quietly, she slipped through the space of the half-open paddock and stopped short.
Ethan stood in the stall with a beautiful black horse. She watched while he murmured in the animal's pricked ear, his hand stroking under the horse's massive head. Man and animal seemed caught in the moment, completely connected. Transfixed by the scene, her hungry gaze roved over the man.
Shirtless, those lithe, sleek muscles stretched under damp golden skin. Back turned toward her, jeans slung low on his lean hips, thick thighs were braced apart, giving her the perfect view of his tight ass. Two nasty scars crisscrossed down his meaty biceps. A simple black tat scrawled across his upper back, but she couldn't read the words. God, he was a work of art. His ginger hair brushed the back of his neck. She practically salivated at the thought of walking over and dragging her tongue down the length of his spine, testing the solidness of those muscles with her teeth and nails.
Suddenly, the air charged, and he stilled. Slowly, he pivoted his body and slammed her with his burning gaze.
Electricity crackled through the barn, echoing in the scream of thunder that shook the walls around them. The horse jerked slightly, but stayed put, still under the spell of the man who had his hands on him.
This was a man who'd faced war, who ran toward all the things people ran away from. Hardness and strength shimmered in waves, along with a raw sexuality in the curl of his lush lips, the gentleness of his fingers on the horse, the promise gleaming in his pale-blue eyes. His gaze raked over her body, lingering over the stiff thrust of her nipples under her wet shirt, the squeeze of her thighs as she fought to contain her arousal.
And Mia craved something she'd never had before. Not only to be claimed by him--to be marked, taken, and ravished tonight.
No. It was the promise beneath that called to her, urging her to close the distance between them. The need to feel treasured. Cherished. Adored.
Just for a little while . . .
"Insomnia?" His voice stroked like gravel wrapped in velvet. He didn't move, just regarded her under heavy-lidded eyes. His fingers danced over the horse's side in a hypnotic rhythm. She imagined them trailing down her naked skin, between her legs, over her throbbing clit . . .
She nodded. "Nightmares?"
"Yes."
Rain pelted the windows, sounding like stones. She tried to clear her throat. Anticipation stretched between them, thrumming under every movement and word spoken, but Mia didn't know if she was ready to unleash what was inside. It may scare him.
Because it terrified her.
"Is this a new horse?"
She waited to see if he'd allow her the safety of conversation. Her muscles sagged with relief when he decided to answer. "One of Harper's rescues. Definitely been abused--just not sure of the extent. His name is Phoenix."
Sadness clung to her as she gazed at the magnificent creature. "I can't understand anyone who could hurt an animal. How do you help him heal?"
"Didn't think I could, at first. Changed my mind. Gonna spend the next few nights sleeping in the barn. Constant attention. Care. He needs to learn trust again, but touch is a faster way to get there. It grounds them. You can tell I found the sweet spot."
"Sweet spot?"
His lopsided grin sent shivers over her body. "Horses like certain places rubbed. Think of a dog who kicks his leg. A kitten who purrs." Wicked heat blasted from his gaze. "A woman in the throes of orgasm."
A strangled noise escaped her lips. She tried again. "Good to know."
"Thunderstorms sometimes set off bad memories. Figured I'd bunk here tonight. Keep him company." He paused. "Did Lake leave?"
"Yes. He had a talk with Chloe, but it ended up being another epic fight. He got a call about a last-minute fund-raiser appearance and decided to take it. I guess he wanted to give Chloe some space."
"Wanted the easy way out. And you're supposed to pick up the pieces?"
His jaw clenched. He uttered a vicious curse. "I'll kill the son of a bitch myself if he gives you a hard time over trying to help his daughter."
His anger soothed the raw spot inside. She quirked a brow. "I can take care of myself, you know. He was just blowing off steam. He apologized and backed off right away."
"I know you can handle yourself, Mia. But there's nothing wrong with beating a guy up to help clear his head as a reminder. In fact, it's fun."
She laughed. "I don't think Jonathan would agree." She paused. "You talked to Chloe earlier?"
"Yeah."
"I overheard some of your conversation. You were sharing a story about your mom. I'm glad you were able to give her some comfort."
She waited for him to laugh it off or make light of the heavy emotions in that moment. Instead, he pondered her words and nodded. "I just told her the truth. I've been in therapy for my . . . incident. Spoke with a ton of guys on my team who all had different upbringings and crap to deal with. I wanted to give her a different perspective because when you're young and confused and screwed up, it's hard finding your way."
"Were you ever like that when you were young?"
"My mother centered me. She allowed me to go off and do the things I craved, even if it was different from her dreams. She wanted me to be a vet, you know. Run the horse-rescue operation. I seemed to have a gift with the horses."
"Harper called you a horse whisperer."
"She overromanticized things from the damn movie. I can just sense what they need, that's all. But I didn't want to stay stuck in this town as the local vet. Mom was disappointed but never tried to stop me."
"I didn't realize you also lost your dad when you were young."
"Again, those were the cards I was dealt. Some are much worse, but I have good family memories. Many people don't."
"I think you helped Chloe. Even if the talk didn't go well with Jonathan, you gave her something to think about."
A sad smile flickered on his lips. "Moms love you unconditionally. I know the pain Chloe is going through. If she leans on her dad and he helps her, they'll get through it together."
Mia stared at him as the words wound their way through her head and heart, tangling up into one big knot. She'd met hundreds of men. Dated dozens. Fallen in love or lust twice.