she’d ever seen on his face and headed down to do the chores and bask in the love brightening her whole life and future.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Liz couldn’t stop smiling and thought she wouldn’t mind being this happy the rest of her life. Nothing could kill this buzz. Not even Mugsy and his incessant attempts to take a bite out of her. She caught his head with her hand on his long nose and shoved him out of the way again as she tried to fill his water bucket.
“Keep it up and I’ll bite you.”
He shook his big brown head up and down and neighed at her.
“Flirt,” she teased him and locked the gate behind her as she exited his stall. Only three more to go.
She hoped Tate enjoyed his shower, but she could sure use a cup of coffee about now. She’d prepared the pot and turned on the machine before leaving the house. Declan usually made pancakes on his mornings to cook and after all the work she’d done, she’d need a triple stack to fill the hunger gnawing at her belly.
The physical labor loosened her tired muscles and worked some she didn’t even know she had. No wonder Tate had all those ripped muscles.
She tossed the hose on the floor and went to the grain bucket to get a scoop for the next horse.
“This is what you wanted instead of being with me.” That accusing voice stopped her cold.
She froze, bent over the grain pail, at the sound of Clint’s resentful voice.
“Horse shit and dirt. Horses trying to bite you at the crack of dawn.” His voice drew nearer as he spoke those bitter words.
She spun around to face him. “What the hell are you doing here?”
The smell of stale whiskey and vomit clung to his rumpled clothes. His hair was a mass of haphazard brown spikes and curls. Bloodshot eyes locked on her and filled with hate. “Do you seriously want this?” He held his hands out wide to take in the massive stable.
She remained calm and didn’t bother to answer his question because she’d made what she wanted perfectly clear. “Have you been up all night?”
“Well, I have an empty apartment and no fucking job to go to today, so I went to the bar last night to drown my sorrows.”
“Did you spend the night there?”
Swaying side to side on his widespread feet, he squinted at her. “Sleep?” He made a pfting noise that sent spittle flying and tried to stay upright and not face-plant on the cement floor. “Got me a bottle and drove way the hell out here to bum-fuck-nowhere and waited for a chance to see you alone.” He shot his pointed finger out at her. “He never leaves you alone!”
For good reason. Look what happened when she was by herself for an hour.
Clint glanced around, his body swaying in the direction his head went. “Where is Loverboy?”
She didn’t want to rile him with talk of Tate. “Clint, what are you doing here? We have nothing left to say to each other.” So much for disengaging. She wanted him gone, but he shouldn’t be driving anywhere in his condition. She wished she’d brought her cell phone down to the stables with her. She’d call the cops as soon as she could—or as soon as she could make a run for it to the office.
She chanced a glance down the alleyway and gauged whether she could run for the office and make it before Clint caught her.
“I have things to say!” He took a step toward her.
“Don’t fucking move.” Drake’s booming voice echoed through the stables as his dog, Sunny, crouched low beside him and growled.
Clint’s eyes went wide when Drake cocked the rifle, put the butt up to his shoulder, and aimed for Clint’s head.
Clint stared at her. “This is all your fault.”
Anger simmered in her gut. She wanted to unleash it on him. But she didn’t say a word, just watched Declan and Tate walk in the stables at Clint’s back and out of Drake’s line of fire.
Tate made his way closer, never taking his eyes off Clint. “Step away from her. You’re trespassing. Cops are on the way.”
Clint notched back one side of his mouth. “He is constantly coming between us.”
She held her hand up to signal that she didn’t want him any closer. “I’m sorry things didn’t work out for us, but you knew how close I was to Tate when we started seeing each other.”