Page 15 of The Spice Is Nice

Colt pushed off the counter and put his hat back on with the bill forward, and just like that he was ranch hand Colt again, serious and contained. “So, how does this whole fake thing work?”

“It was your idea.” I pointed.

“Doubt there’s a rule book for it.”

“Rules?”

“Need the rules so I don’t break ‘em, Wylde.” A ghost of a smile crossed his lips. “Think about it. Gotta get back to the ranch. We have a new horse, Silver. He’s chosen me, apparently.”

Who could blame a horse? ‘Chosen’ on the ranch meant when they onboarded a new rescue, sometimes the horse took to certain ranch hands more than others.

“Well, look at you. Chosen by meanda horse all in one week.”

“What can I say? Must be my charm and magnetic personality. See you, Wylde.”

He tipped his hat and left me with a wink that could melt any woman’s ice. The bell above the door chimed behind him. I stood at the window and breathed deeply to calm my flutteringheart.

This was a terrible idea—that made perfect sense. Colt Calhoun was going to pretend to be my green-flag boyfriend so my red-flag ex would keep his distance. I hoped. This might be the safest I’d felt in years.

I just had to keep Colt in the friend zone. And repeat that as many times as necessary until it stuck.

Chapter 7

Giving Notice

Colt

Silver wouldn’t leta case of smoke inhalation keep him down. He followed me around the smaller paddock while I cleaned it and added fresh water, moving with more purpose each day as he let his guard down. The other horses watched from the larger paddock and the pastures, curious and assessing from a distance.

Especially Tank. Eighteen hands of shiny black coat and quiet authority—our resident alpha, who was privately a softy for Pearl and Juniper and June Bug, but didn’t advertise it. With Silver’s arrival, another alpha and a proven hero, things could get interesting between them eventually. For now, we quarantined Silver while he healed.

“Okay, okay.” He nuzzled the back of my neck while I scrubbed the water trough. I half grumbled, half laughed. Dusty had adjusted the anti-inflammatories twice since Silver arrived, and the respiratory issues were improving. The horse had decided I was his person above all the other guys on the ranch, which I was trying not to read too deeply into.

I ran my hand down his neck in the gentle way I’d learned he liked. He leaned into it.

“I might miss you when I leave.” He leaned harder. “I know. Let’s not think about what’s down the road.”

I led him back into his stall. He surprised me by curling his head around my back — not quite a hug, but close enough to one. My gut wrenched in a way I didn’t examine too carefully.

“We shouldn’t get too attached,” I told him. Almost a warning for both of us. Too late.

“Attached to what?”

I turned around. Ivy Wylde hung over the stall door, golden ponytail tossed over one shoulder, grinning at me like she’d been there long enough to enjoy catching me in the middle of a heart-to-heart with a horse. The morning had been overcast and grey. She walked in and it wasn’t anymore.

Silver’s ears swiveled toward her. Then he shot me a look — or whatever the horse version of that was — and went back to watching Ivy like I hadn’t been the one feeding him twice a day. Traitor.

“Just a conversation between us guys,” I said, and cleared my throat.

“He’s a handsome fellow,” she exclaimed.

“He is. A little standoffish to anyone but me?—”

She held out her hand with something inside it, and he passed right by me up to her, breathing her in, checking her out.

“You brought treats.” I shook my head.

“Daisy says it works for her when meeting new horses.” Silver let her pet his nose while munching the treat. “Hi, boy. I’m Ivy. I heard you’re something special. So here’s a homemade treat for you.”