Ride Rough - Tessa Layne Page 0,74

porch, like she did most days. "Oh thank god you answered," she sighed, as relief washed over her when her sister picked up.

"Thank god you didn't call me at the ass-crack," Mariah answered wryly. "I'm having a quick cup of tea before I head to the gym for a light workout."

"Where are you now?"

"Osaka."

"Race today?"

"Umm-hmm."

"Well, good luck, and now can we get to the reason I called?"

"Have you cooled down?"

Cecilia waved a hand. "Mostly. The guy has some serious champions here in Prairie, that's all I can say."

"Glad to hear it. So what's your burning question?"

"How did you know you were without a doubt, in it to win it, forever in love with Harrison?"

Cecilia could hear the smile in her sister's laugh. "You know, I'm not exactly sure. I loved teasing him so much, and he let me give him just heap-tons of shit. And then he'd say these absurdly sweet things on the phone, and I... just kind of melted, I guess."

"Was it scary?"

"As fuck. C'mon. You know our history. Add to that, that I chose to pursue athletics instead of a 'career'." Cecilia could hear the finger quotes in her voice. "And then he kept trying to take care of me."

"I know the feeling."

"It probably would have all gone to shit, because Harrison makes way too much money for my comfort level, but he... helped me reframe my perspective."

"How so?"

"He assured me he was taking care of me because he loved me and wanted our relationship to be a partnership, not - and this was key for me - because he thought I was helpless-"

"Or needed rescuing," Cecilia supplied.

"Exactly. And man, was I pissed when he bought me a new car."

Cecilia let out a full throated laugh. "Ohmygod me, too!"

"It takes a brave man to purchase a car for a Sanchez sister."

"No foolin'."

"So here's another thing I'm stuck on," Cecilia started, picking at a piece of paint peeling off the porch.

"Wait," Mariah interrupted. "I can tell from your voice you're going down a rabbit hole. Before we play Alice through the Looking Glass... tell me honestly, knee-jerk reaction. Can you see yourself still laughing with him when you're eighty?"

"Yes." Her voice caught. The answer had been instant and sure. "He challenges me."

Mariah chuckled. "Good man. Brave man."

"But I'm not sure about the rest. You know me - I'm a homebody. I want... a quiet life."

"Then tell him that. I swear, sis. I thought there was no way Harrison and I would work, but we do."

"And someday you're finally going to marry him."

"I am. And maybe we can have that double wedding we always planned?"

"Let's just start with me getting comfortable driving my new car."

"Sounds good. Okay, gotta run. Kisses." Mariah blew kisses through the phone.

"Love you and good luck this morning!" She disconnected with a smile on her face. Nothing made her happier than the days she got to catch up with Mariah. The holidays would be here before they knew it, and she couldn't wait. But first...

Cecilia rolled her shoulders and marched over to the SUV parked just off the circle drive and slipped into the driver's seat. Immediately, the scent of new car filled her nostrils. She took a quick photo of the interior and before she lost her nerve texted it to Trace, typing a quick follow-up.

1. I'm sorry for not giving you the benefit of the doubt.

2. I love this car, thank you <3

3. Good luck tomorrow xoxo

Butterflies flapped underneath her sternum, so many her hands trembled. Hopefully he'd accept her tiny peace offering. She watched the phone, ridiculously delighted when she saw dots indicating he was texting back. A few moments later his response came.

1. As long as you believe me from here on, we're good.

2. I'm glad! :)

3. Thanks. I wish you were here.

She fired back a response.

I do too. Prairie's been overrun by reporters :(

Her phone rang, and she answered too breathlessly. "Yes?"

"Are you safe?" the whiskey rough voice she loved hearing demanded.

"Yes, why?"

"Did anyone approach you?"

"No, why?"

"Promise me you'll lock your doors tonight. Or go spend the night at Izzie's."

"Trace, WHY?" Did the man have to be so cryptic?

"These guys are assholes, sweetheart, and the second they catch even a whiff that you're with me, they'll be all over you."

A thread of fear rippled down her spine. "Ah... that's one of the things we need to talk about when you get home." She waited for a response, but none came. "Trace?"

His throat cleared. "Ah, yeah... did you mean that?" His