11. Hunter

The ride back to the stables was much calmer than the ride to the lake. We took it slow even though the daylight was dwindling and we didn't have much time until it would become difficult to see clearly.

Lottie's poor attitude had subsided significantly. The weight that had slipped from my shoulders was a huge relief. I felt like I could take the first real breath of fresh air I'd had since Hawaii. We rode in a comfortable and easy silence. The only sounds were the occasional sigh from Darcy and Elizabeth, and the sound of hooves sloshing through the mud.As we approached the stable, I noticed it was quiet and empty. The evening lights were on but it appeared everyone had gone home. Is it that late? My inner thighs ached as I slid from Darcy, reminding me that I was out of practice with riding, and I made a mental note to work out my legs more often.

A vibration in the inside pocket of my jacket brought me back to the moment. I slid my phone out, wanting to check the time but also to see what the obnoxious buzzing was about.

"What is it?" Lottie asked, one thick braid flying over her shoulder as she looked back at me. "What's that face for?"

Missed call after missed call littered my screen. Three from my father, ten from my brother, and at least a dozen from my assistant. I had no idea what face I was making, but clearly whatever it was conveyed just how worrying that was. "Something's going on."

"What?"

"I don't know."

Lottie unlatched the saddles from our horses as I opened my texts. I knew service could be spotty on the ranch, but to miss that many notifications? Then again, I'd been preoccupied.

Get to Dad's office. NOW.

Fred's text sent a shiver down my spine. Whatever it was clearly needed to be discussed in person, otherwise he would've just told me what the hell it was about.

"Is everything okay?" Lottie asked, her voice getting smaller. She was softer, dare I say concerned, and the thought of having to leave when I had such a gentle version of her made me want to punch a goddamn hole in the stable wall.

"I don't know," I repeated. "I'm sorry, I… I need to go. There's some kind of emergency back at the office."

"Oh." She looked toward the ground, nodding once to herself before turning around and hanging up the saddles. "No problem. I'll take care of these guys."

"Thank you," I sighed. "We can talk later. Okay?"

"Okay."

I took a step toward the door, but something tugged at me, nagging at my mind that my business with her wasn't finished for the evening. I didn't want to leave while things were so calm and good between us. I didn't want to go back to brick walls and angry glances. And I knew, I fucking knew that the second I left, that's what would happen.

I stepped back.

Crossing the space between us, I grabbed her by the hand, turning her around to face me. Her breath hitched as she collided with me, her hands on my suit jacket, her chin high and mighty. She was fucking beautiful, even in her mud-covered overalls. I didn't give a shit if any of it got on my suit.

"Hunter," she hissed, that wall coming back, brick by brick.

But I didn't care. I wanted to take a moment, a second, a blip in time to just savor the lack of anger.

I pressed my lips to hers, welcoming her warmth as she reluctantly sank into me. I didn't care if I was doing it for my own satisfaction. No one else was around and it wasn't for show, none of it was. Not at Brody's place, not in Oahu. It was purely because I wanted to, because she was a woman that I somehow hadn't gotten tired of yet.

Just as her lips parted and she let me in, I let her go, taking a step back and wiping the little bit of lipstick from my mouth. Her eyes met mine, a wide, swirling storm of anger and lust, that same fire kicking up in her that I was getting damn good at igniting.

————

I paid no mind to the strange look I got from the receptionist when I busted through the door, or from the janitor as I jogged through the halls of our office complex. It didn't matter. Something was clearly wrong, and that was all I had time to think about other than the lingering taste of Charlotte's mouth.

I threw open the door to my father"s office. "What the hell happened to you?" Fred asked, stepping around Dad's desk with a look of pure rage. I'd never seen so many harsh lines on his face. "Did you fall in the fucking mud on your way here?"

I didn't give him the time of day. Instead, I locked eyes with my father, taking brief note that the nameplate that once read Edward Harris was nowhere to be found. "What's going on?"

Dad leaned back in his chair, clicking his pen over and over against his lower lip. "We found out about an hour ago that many of our clients have been fielding calls from Jared Keelings."

My blood turned cold. The panic I had felt before arriving quickly transformed into anger.

Dad pushed a piece of paper across his desk, spun it, and pointed to the very top. "We've lost three clients. Apparently, the Keelings got word of my retirement and have been using it against us."

"How the hell did that get leaked?—"

"That's their first step," I said, cutting Fred off before he could go down a path that no longer mattered. "That's what they do. They turn clients, destabilize the business, and tear it apart from the bottom up."

My father nodded. "So you've been paying attention to them."

"Of course I have. They've been the ones responsible for practically every agricultural fall in Colorado in the last ten years." I sunk into one of the wingback leather chairs opposite Dad's desk, earning myself a scathing glare from my brother. It wasn't like he was the one who would have to clean off the little bits of mud I left behind, though I'm sure there was more to it than that behind the glare. "What are the Keelings saying, exactly?"

"That the Harris company will be shaky at best once I retire. They were able to convince the clients that the change of leadership is likely to bring us to a screeching halt. Apparently, the three they targeted today don't want to take that nonexistent risk and have signed onto other businesses obtained by the Keelings Group." Dad held the pen so tight in his grip that I worried it would burst, covering him in thick, blue ink. Wouldn't be any worse than mud. "Those clients believed they would lose money by staying with us."

"Fuck." My fingers tightened around the leather armrest, my knuckles going white. "What do we do?"

"You two need to put your heads together and think of some kind of solution," he snapped. "I have enough on my plate preparing for the transition."

I nodded. "Okay. We can do that."

"No," Fred said. He leaned over Dad's desk, one hand resting on the piece of paper, the other holding him up. "Hunter can't help with this. I'm the one taking over for you, so this is my responsibility."

"Lord save us," I mumbled.

Dad narrowed his gaze at my brother. It was the same look he'd given us as kids when we were up to no good, the one that always had Fred slinking back to safety. I stifled a laugh at the memory. "I've not made any final decisions. Hunter knows far more about the Keelings Group. He's an asset in this."

Fred sunk into the chair next to mine, either in defeat or embarrassment judging by the huff.

"Hunter," Dad said, drawing my attention back to him. "I want you to keep a tight ship on the breeding side. It's always been a solid part of the business for us and we don't need that crumbling as well."

"Yes sir."

"I've heard good things about the new manager," he added. "Make sure she understands what's happening and to keep everyone in line. That business is what built this company and what allows us to live the life we have now. It's how I met your damned mother, for Christ's sake. God forbid, but if the rest of the company falls, we must keep that intact."

His words hit me like a goddamn brick. Fuck.

I let out a shaky breath and nodded my agreement. But when Dad's focus fell from me and turned to Fred and his responsibilities, I realized the depth of what I'd done.

I'd given Lottie forty-nine percent of the breeding business. I'd offered it up like it meant absolutely nothing, not giving a second thought to what that would actually mean or how important it was to my father. I'd messed up—royally. It wasn't mine to give away, at least not yet. If only I'd taken two goddamn seconds to think about it, to realize what the breeding side meant to him, to consider how my impulsivity could affect my bid for CEO…

I couldn't tell him. Not now, at least. There wasn't a part of me that could handle the backlash from that, the likely forfeiting of my potential to take over the company. Fred had fucked up over and over again, but this felt like a low blow at the worst possible time.

I'd have to take it back. Retract the offer and deal with her anger and her wicked mouth. As much as she excited me when she glared at me, I don't think I'd feel the same way when she was hurtling horseshoes at my face. I had nothing else to offer to keep her on my side, to keep her playing the part I so desperately needed her to.

Fuck.

I didn't have the faintest idea of what to do next. I knew retracting the offer was the only option but I'd have to hold off on telling her, I first needed a plan of how I was going to make it up to her. In the meantime, there had to be something else I could give her that was just as good. Start-up money for her own thing, no strings attached. Maybe a stable, her own horse.

I had a sinking feeling it would blow up in my face down the line, but I bit down the thought and pushed it away, promising myself to handle it later.