When we reach the infield, microphones are thrust into my face. I have to say something, but I don’t know what.
“How do you feel, Colby?” one of the reporters asks.
“Holy shit,” I say and quickly cover my mouth. Guess that will be bleeped out when it hits the news. Before I can answer any more questions, my parents are busting through the crowd to get to me. My dad envelopes me in his strong hold.
“I’m so damn proud of you.”
“Thank you,” I say as he hands me off to my mom.
“You did it, Colby.”
I did, didn’t I?
The frenzy is crazy. I’m pulled in every direction until I’m close enough to Kendrick. We hug awkwardly since he’s still mounted. “Thanks for giving me a chance,” he says in my ear.
“There isn’t any other man out there more perfect than you to ride this horse.” The blanket of roses is laid over Maximus’ saddle, but I’m not there to witness it because I’m standing in front of him. I run my hand over his muzzle and lean my forehead down.
“You did it, boy. You actually fucking did it.”
10
Brielle
It’s been seven weeks since Maximus won the Derby, five since he wowed the grandstands with a win at the Preakness, a week since he made history by crossing the finish line first at the Belmont Stakes. Not many ranches and trainers can say they’ve won the Triple Crown, but Lucky Seven Ranch and Colby can. Colby has been nonstop busy with interviews and phone calls. So many people want him to train their horses. This is the break he’s always wanted, but I can tell he’s not used to the attention. For so long, he’s been in the shadows of the racing world. Not anymore. I keep telling him he’ll have to get used to it. I’m so happy for him, especially now that he’s worked everything out with his father. I wish I could say the same for mine.
There are still articles about me leaving Armstrong Acres for the competition and how tension is on the rise. The media will say anything to get the drama they want. However, it does make it hard when going out in public. So many people walk up to me and ask how things are. What can I say really? The truth is that it breaks my heart. I moved out of my house which is owned by my father. He never said I had to, but I needed to show my independence. For the past week, I’ve been living with Colby at his place. Let’s just say, I’ve enjoyed every minute of it. Looking at him through the kitchen window, something tells me he has too by the post coital glow on his face.
I pour us both some fresh-squeezed lemonade and a shot of whiskey. It’s the perfect afternoon treat. When I walk outside to the back deck, his smile brightens when he sees what I have.
“You read my mind.”
Winking, I hand him his glass. “Don’t get too relaxed though. You promised me round two.”
Colby chuckles and grabs my wrist, pulling me onto his lap. I squeal and try not to spill the contents in my glass. He kisses my neck and nips me. “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll be ready.”
Leaning against his chest, I take a sip of my drink. “Good. Then, afterwards, we can make some dinner. I’m thinking chicken tacos tonight.”
“A woman after my own heart.”
We snuggle together on the lounge chair and I gaze out at the field behind his house. It seems to stretch out for miles. Nothing but green grass and trees in the distance. “You’re not tired of me living here yet?” I ask jokingly.
He holds me tighter. “Hell no.” I look back at him and he winks. “Just try and leave.”
I stare down at his lips and kiss him. “Thank you for everything.”
“No need to thank me, Bri. I love you. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”
“I love you too,” I say, kissing him again. I start to get up and move to my own lounge chair when the doorbell rings.
Colby stares at me and lifts his brows. “Expecting someone?”
I shake my head. William went back to New York for a few weeks to tie up loose ends before moving down to Kentucky. “It’s probably someone from town bringing you another congratulatory pie.”
That’s one of the things I love about our town. A lot of the older women like to celebrate with food. Colby bursts out laughing and rubs his stomach. “I don’t think I can handle anymore.”
I wave him off. “Nonsense. There’s always room for more pie.” I set my drink down and walk over to the patio door. “I’ll see who it is.”
The doorbell rings again as I make my way through the house. We’ve had so many visitors, there’s no telling who it could be. When I open the door, the man standing on the other side is the last person I expect to see.