Change Rein - Anne Jolin Page 0,17

“Charlotte.” My voice rumbles with an unspoken warning.

Reading my tone with accuracy, she hastily returns her arm to its rightful position by her side. I glance past her to see London standing but a few feet away, leaning against my horse’s neck. Without seeing her eyes, I know her attention is entirely directed at me.

As it should be.

Following my gaze, Charlotte sparks into action and struts towards her, clearly not blind that there is more to this situation than she’s been made aware of. “I’m sorry, Branson. I had yet to tell them Street was not to be handled by others, but she”—she draws out the word, and I clench my teeth to refrain from reprimanding her ridiculous behavior—“began unloading without any direction.”

“I’m sorry.” London’s voice falters briefly before Street nudges her playfully with his head. Her passion becomes distracted, now shifting from me to my horse.

Green with envy, I’m captured by the smile forming on her unmasked face.

“He’s just so beautiful.” She pats his neck down. “I had to see him,” she says in a harsh whisper.

I can sympathize. That is a feeling I’ve come to know all too well.

Charlotte reaches to grab the lead rope from London’s hands, and my mouth disobeys my head.

“Stop,” I demand.

Subsequently, the two women freeze.

It’s the first time I’ve spoken loud enough for everyone to hear, and the object of my affection brings her focus back to me as I close the remaining distance between us.

“She will be responsible for Street from now on.” I close her open hand around the lead rope, proudly watching her body shiver from my touch.

Without looking at my barn manager, I can tell she wishes to object. This is something I’ve never done. Street is like a child to me, and I hardly let romantic or lustful whims allow anyone to touch him, but this is more than that. She is more than that.

“I don’t want to hear another word about it. Are we clear?”

“Yes, Branson.”

Without looking away from the camo-clad blonde in front of me, I correct her sharply. “Mr. Tucker, Charlotte. Let us not forget our roles in the presence of new company.”

If I’m mistaken, a smirk has formed on the lips of my angel. She is most certainly not a fan of Charlotte. Duly noted.

It’s not lost on me that, throughout the altercation, we’ve gained the onlooking eyes of her family. Although I would wish for nothing more than to have her all to myself in this moment, it would be in poor taste not to meet her family. Hell, her daddy sure as shit needs to love me. Come hell or high water, that will be a reality.

I am more certain than I’ve ever been in my goddamn life that my soul is tethered to hers, and I have yet to taste her.

If anyone could hear the way I am thinking about her, they’d send me to the nuthouse. I am pretty sure I’m in love with this woman, even though I am only meeting her for the first time. Even I’m not ignorant to how absolutely crazy that sounds.

With Street’s large body offering us the smallest bit of privacy, I pull the aviators from the bridge of her nose. “There you are, pretty lady.” My voice is low and gravelly at the heavenly sight of her big, blue eyes.

Her mouth opens and closes a few times before the sweet sound of her voice rains through me. “Hi.”

“Hi,” I repeat back to her, sliding her sunglasses into the front pocket of her hoodie. My fingers graze her stomach through the material, and the sound of her sharply sucking in air makes me want to beat on my chest with pride.

Crowding her space, I tug on the strings of her sweater, using them to pull her body a little closer to mine. “I’m coming for you, London Daniels, and there ain’t nowhere you can hide from me, angel.”

I leave her standing there, her lips parted and her breathing heavy.

I’m not here to mess around.

I’m here to make her mine.

Even if I come across like a jackass while doing it.

“WELL, HELL. STICK A FORK in me. I’m done.” Aurora fans herself after barreling towards me as the crowd disperses around us.

“W-w-what,” I stammer, my eyes admiring the backside of a certain billionaire cowboy’s ass as he walks with my father into the barn.

Waving her hand in front of my face, she laughs. “London?”

“Mmm,” I hum.

“I think you’re drooling.”

My eyes blink a few times as I