A Photo Finish: A Small Town Second Chance Romance (Gold Rush Ranch Book 2)
A Photo Finish: Chapter 1

DID I really just win the Denman Derby?

Everything around me moves in slow motion. The pointy black ears ahead of me, leading to the shiny black mane down the neck that rocks in a steady rhythm beneath me. My fingers tangle into that mane, holding on for dear life.

I look over my shoulder to ensure I actually crossed the finish line. That I didn’t just black out and miss a chunk of the race. Maybe there’s another lap left? Maybe I’ve absolutely blown it like the total rookie I am.

But all around me, other horses and jockeys are slowing, pulling up. Pony horses go around us to grab excited racehorses. I even hear congratulatory words coming from my competitors. Which is nice because I have no business being here on a horse like this, winning such a prestigious race.

This is my second race ever, and I just qualified for The Northern Crown. That’s pure dumb luck. That’s unheard of.

I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts, and the sounds from around me come rushing back in. Cheering from the stands, horn music over the loudspeakers, the number on our saddle pad flashing across the board in the infield.

We really did it.

I flop down onto his shiny black neck, wrapping my arms around him and nuzzling into his sweat-slicked coat. My throat clogs with emotion, and my eyes water as I murmur, “Who’s the best boy?”

When I sit back up, we slow to a walk. Once the race is over, he doesn’t stay keyed up for long. DD is a big old teddy bear, though he hasn’t always been. It wasn’t so long ago that nobody wanted to go near him. But his new trainer, Billie, brought him around, and somehow, I lucked into getting the ride on him.

I sit back and give DD some rein as we walk casually off the track toward the winner’s circle. I think that’s what I should do. Alarm courses through me as I realize I don’t really know what to do here. I know my way around Bell Point Park, but I’ve never won a major stakes race before.

A moment later, Hank, the barn manager at Gold Rush Ranch, is at my side, patting my leg and looking up at me with pure, contagious joy. His heavily lined green eyes twinkle with emotion. “Congratulations, Violet. I could not be more proud of you.”

I blink rapidly and look away. Hank has that quintessential dad vibe going on. Or grandpa vibe? I’m not sure, really. He’s old enough he should be retired, but here he is working on the farm every day like he’s some sort of spring chicken.

The smile I return is watery. The reality of everything is sinking in, and it’s overwhelming. “Thank you, Hank.”

He reaches up and grabs the reins close to DD’s bit. “Whoa, boy.” He pulls us off to the side under the shade of a tree. “You two just take a moment before you head up there. A few deep breaths to get your bearings.”

I could hug Hank at this moment for knowing what I need right now, even though I’m too shell-shocked to realize it.

“Thank you.” I smile down at him and then close my eyes to take those deep breaths he recommended.

Until a few weeks ago, I was a groom at Gold Rush Ranch. Sometimes an exercise rider when my friend and head trainer, Billie Black, would ask me to help. Imagine my surprise when she announced I would be the new jockey for one of the most talented racehorses I’ve ever seen. One bad race with local favorite Patrick Cassel as jockey was all it took for her to blacklist him and replace him with me.

So, I dumb-lucked my way into this and am now certain everyone will notice. Will call my bluff.

When I feel like I’ve stopped spinning, I roll my shoulders back and jut my chin out. DD’s breathing has slowed, and I can hear him chewing on the bit in his mouth. A sure sign he’s feeling more relaxed as well.

Fake it ‘til you make it, Vi. It doesn’t matter how I got here. I rode that race, and it wasn’t an easy one. DD and I deserve this win, and I’m going to accept it with grace rather than beat myself up about not deserving it.

“Okay. I’m ready.”

With a sure nod, Hank clucks, urging DD forward, and we head for the circus that is the winner’s circle.

Billie is there, big sunglasses on to cover what I’m sure are tear-stained eyes. Vaughn, one of the two brothers who now own Gold Rush Ranch, is there too. Arm snaked around her waist possessively.

I can’t help but grin. Obviously, his get-Billie-back plan paid off once he came to his senses. I shoot him a wink right as Billie rushes forward to hug DD and me. She blubbers something about loving me but also being mad at me for not telling her the plan. I just laugh. She’ll forgive me eventually. Telling her anything would have ruined the most romantic surprise ever.

“You can make me pay later,” I whisper into her mess of chestnut hair as I lean down to return the hug.

Vaughn steps up next, opting for a firm handshake in lieu of a hug. His smile is wide and genuine, his chest puffed out proudly. “Congratulations, Violet. Beautifully ridden.”

“Thank you for the opportunity,” I say, grinning back like a total maniac. Because seriously, who puts a completely unproven twenty-six-year-old groom on a horse like this for a race like this?

My eyes dart over as someone else steps up to us, just beside Vaughn. I feel my eyes widen as he does and scold myself internally. My poker face leaves something to be desired. This is something I know and still can’t control. My feelings are constantly written on my face. Like a big flashing neon sign. And right now is no exception.

The man is clearly Vaughn’s older brother, Cole. I’ve heard plenty about him, mostly Billie ranting about what a dick he is and making jokes about him being a robot, which I can kind of see, looking at him now. Where everyone else is elated—celebratory—he looks downright murderous.

Murderous and delicious.

I don’t know if the endorphins coursing through me right now are making me giddy, or if being this happy kills brain cells, but I can’t look away from the gorgeous man. Even though he’s scowling at me, I drink him in like the champagne I can’t wait to guzzle when this crazy day is over.

He looks like Vaughn, yet totally different. Harder, more imposing. Where Vaughn is tall and lean, his brother is strong and broad. His shoulders push against his suit jacket, like they might tear through it if he flexed hard enough. My eyes trail down to his trim waist and powerful thighs. Pull yourself together, Violet. You’re practically panting.

When I imagined the reclusive brother, who spends all his time at their downtown office, the one who never sets foot on the farm, this is not what I envisioned.

“Hi!” I say a little too brightly. Cringe. “I’m Violet.” I stick my hand out toward him while people and cameras crowd in around us.

He doesn’t return my smile, though. His shapely lips stay pressed into a flat line, and his gray eyes sear me from where I still sit on DD’s back. When his hand wraps around mine, I can’t help but realize how big the man really is. My hand and wrist practically disappear in his grip. The warm rasp of his palm starts softly, then he squeezes and steps close to the saddle. His opposite hand rises between us, and he crooks his index finger.

A silent order to move closer.

I feel my heart rattle around in my chest as I lean in like a total sucker. Like a moth to a flame.

I expect him to congratulate me.

What I don’t expect is for him to send me reeling into past mistakes.

“Nice to see you again, Pretty in Purple. I almost didn’t recognize you with your clothes on.”

All the air in my lungs rushes out in an audible gasp as I jerk back away from him.

No.

I peer down at him, scouring his features, feeling all the blood drain from my face as I try to reconcile my memory of a man I’ve worked so hard to forget.

No fucking way.

There is only one person in the world who would ever know to call me that, who would ever have the gall to say it that way. My cheeks heat as memories from the last year come at me rapid fire.

That youthful experimentation part of my life was supposed to be a bump in the road on my way to total independence.

That part of my life was supposed to have stayed anonymous and in the past.

When I ghosted him without a word, he was supposed to stay where I left him.

He wasn’t supposed to matter to me.

But as I drown in his gray eyes while the circus rages around me, I realize he still does.