The Breaker (Erotic Country #1.) (12 page)

They’d barely spoken all morning. Both competent horse trainers, it
was usual for them to work quietly and intuitively alongside each other. But
this morning, questions hung heavily in the air between them. Unspoken.
Unanswered.

‘So, I’ll see you when I get back,’ he said. His mouth was set firmly
and she could see his mind searching for something in her face, though what,
she couldn’t tell.

A limp smile was all she could manage. ‘Yep.’ She looked away, unable
to hide the betrayal she felt. She couldn’t speak of it either. She didn’t know
if she even had the right to feel like this. They had never really defined
their relationship. Never set down any boundaries.

He took her chin in his large hand and through it she felt the calm
strength that she loved about him. She raised her eyes to meet his.

‘Hey,’ he said softly.

‘Hey, yourself.’ She reached her hand up to his face and with her thumb,
touched the inch long scar ran under his right eye. She had stitched it up for
him one messed-up night not long ago and the mark that it left had become her
stamp on him. It was a reminder of a wild night, one in which she had claimed
him as her own. It had healed well but the neat line where the skin had knitted
back together was still purple. It would fade, but never completely disappear.

They stood staring like that without speaking and the questions gained
weight as they remained unspoken. He had never really claimed her back; never
given her anything to seal the deal between them, given her something on which
to set any expectations.

He leaned down now and kissed the corner of her mouth, pulling at her
lower lip briefly and letting it go. It robbed her of the chance to kiss him
back. ‘Be good.’ He turned to the cabin and opened the driver’s side door.

She pushed her hands into her back pockets and watched him climb in.
This was all wrong. Normally he would grab the closest piece of leather
strapping and flick it across her arse playfully. He would put a welt on her
that would sting all day and make her long for him to come home and play some
more.

The engine turned over and she watched him rummage around in the cabin
through the side mirror while the engine chugged and warmed. What was she being
so pissy for? She should go hug him. Kiss him back.

But the foreman, Jim appeared by the door and talked to him through
the window before she could.

‘You know where you’re going?’

‘Yep.’

‘Rest up before you drive back, hey? You got somewhere to stay?’

‘Yep,’ said Brett, leaning an elbow on the edge of the open window.

Sophie turned away and walked to the horse shed. Yep. He had somewhere
to stay. With Suzie. His ex. The mother of his child. He always stayed there
when he went to Brisbane. This was the third time this month. Boss Carney had a
contract to supply twenty stockhorses to a station down south. As fast as
Sophie and Brett could break them in, they loaded them up and Brett drove them
to Brisbane. He would catch up with Suzie and then drive home.

 Suzie. All Brett had ever told her about Sam’s mum was, ‘She was hot.
I seduced her. We had a kid.’ Oh and that she was a lawyer. So she was smart
too. Sophie hadn’t minded at first. But then it had become regular. And then
the phone calls started. Sometimes they went on for hours.

Sophie knew she was being jealous. But she couldn’t help it. She
became aloof instead of just asking him what was going on. If Brett spent too
long on the phone with Suzie, she got up and left. Her small bungalow was just
across the yard from his house.

That’s how it was between them. Nothing was defined. There were no
rules. And for the most part, she liked it like that. Theirs was not a
relationship clogged with superfluous words. They worked and lived alongside
each other. And they fucked. Hard. It was uncomplicated.

But as Sophie walked into the shed she knew it was time to talk. Her
insecurities were becoming a constant presence between them. It was stupid and
it needed to be sorted out. When he got back, she would go over to his place
and tell him she wanted to talk. Simple.

She heard the truck roll out of the driveway and she set her mind on
work. She had twelve horses to work. If she spent twenty minutes on each and
worked without a break, she would get through them all before sunset. Then she
would be worn out and sleep well, instead of tossing and turning all night
wondering what Brett was doing at Suzie’s place.

Well, that was the plan anyway. It seemed every single horse gave her
trouble that day. They argued and shied and jumped out of their halters. They
galloped away and refused to be caught. One bucked her off and as she pulled
herself out of the dirt and charged after it, it swung its hind quarters and
lashed out at her, narrowly missing her face. As she fought for the next hour
to win its trust she knew it was her own fault. She was wound up and angry and
the horses knew it.

No doubt Brett felt it too. Sophie ended up in the harness room
sitting on a molasses drum with her elbows on her knees and her hands in her
face. Thankfully no one else was around to witness her screw up of a day. The
shed was large and open and the breeze whispered through the room, touching the
leather and sweat and earthen floor, mixing it into secrets and carrying them
away. In the distance a road train groaned through its gears. Nance’s kids
squealed with their friends in the gardens of the main house. A flock of black
cockatoos screeched through the air. Cattle crooned. It was a good place to
just sit and be; to let the sounds and smells soothe the tumultuous
undercurrents of her heart.

She got to dinner at the main house late that evening and found that
Nance had put a large plate of roast beef and veggies aside for her. She
devoured it and then joined the other staff around the pool table for a beer
and a quick game.

She teamed up with Liz against Pete and Paul, the two young station
hands. Liz was nanny and school teacher to the boss’s two children. She was
also Sophie’s house mate and friend.

‘Has Brett gone to Brissie again?’ Liz asked.

Sophie nodded and leaned across the table to sink the black. As she
slid the end of the stick between her thumb and forefinger, she caught Pete
staring down the front of her shirt.

Well, at least someone was still interested in her. She arched her
back and raised her arse more than she needed to. Little pervert. Give him
something to wank about. Give
her
something to wank about. Fuck Brett.
She slid the cue stick slowly back and forth, letting it brush along her
breast, and then slammed the white ball into the black, potting it with a loud
clack.

‘Nice shot.’ Pete grinned at her.

‘Thank you.’ The cheeky shit was flirting right back. She glanced at
the top button of his shirt and wondered what his chest looked like. He was all
angular and sinewy, not fully filled out, but his bone structure was there. His
biceps were small but taut and shaped. His hands were large – he was like a
puppy with huge paws, not yet grown into. She sighed appreciatively. Lucky
Brett wasn’t around.

Or was it? Would Brett even care?

‘Another game?’ Pete pulled the balls from the pockets and dropped
them into the triangle.

‘Sure,’ said Sophie, letting her grip slide down the cue stick a few
inches. His eyes caught it and she smirked and turned away. She liked games.

Liz caught the gesture too and she rolled her eyes. ‘I’m gonna hit the
sack.’

Sophie felt a twinge of remorse. Liz - always the voice of reason -
was right. She shouldn’t lead Pete on when she had no intentions of being with
him. Sophie gave Pete one more game of pool and he beat her fair and square.
‘I’m gonna hit the sack too,’ she said, replacing her stick in the rack. ‘See
you tomorrow, hey?’

Pete gave her a look that was all tortured and wanting. ‘Bye.’

Damn. She shouldn’t have done that.

But that night, she lay in bed and indulged in fantasies of him. She
imagined what it might be like to gently push him onto his back and open his
shirt; to place her hands on his chest, slide onto him and ride him into
manhood. It would be fun. Pete was sweet, and judging by the size of his feet
and hands, hung like the resident stallion. He would be naughty too, once he
hit his stride. But with a young guy like him it would be all over in minutes.
She would be left unsatisfied, wanting for more. She need something mind
shattering and soul rebuilding. She needed it hard and rough, in a way that
would terrify a kid like Pete.

Sophie needed the harsh edge of her breaker. She needed Brett. No one
else had ever come close to him. But that in itself was a problem. Or was it?
Was she just making everything more complicated than it needed to be?

She rolled onto her side and hugged her pillow. Once these last twelve
horses were broken in and delivered to Brisbane, she would see what came next.
Right now, she needed sleep. And she needed to banish all thoughts of Suzie.

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#2.The Breaker’s Ex
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