A couple of women hang out nearby as others talk in the garage, and I watch them in their jeans and summer tops, laughing and smiling. How much longer will the weather be nice enough to ride? Seems like fun.

Jake and I unload the hay, gripping the wires and hauling each bale over to the stable. One of the girls smiles as I pass.

None of them wear make-up, no fancy manicures, and no stylish clothes, but they don’t need it. They’re pretty, dressed to play, and for a moment, I want to be one of them.

I carry a bale into the barn, walking it down to a stall. Is Kaleb going with them?

How does he get along with friends without speaking? Does he have friends? I mean, if he’s like that as a mute, can you imagine what would come out of his mouth if he spoke?

I shake my head. Curiosity swirls in my mind over what happened to him at the age of four that made him stop talking, but I push the thought away. We’ve all got problems.

“I want to hear you,” someone pants.

I slow as I hit the stall.

“Show me what you want me to do,” she whispers.

I almost drop the hay.

Her voice is barely audible, so soft like she’s hanging on by a thread.

I set the hay down, taking a step back. It could be anyone. There’s lots of people here right now, and I don’t want to be embarrassed. Slowly, I retreat.

But then I hear a grunt, a shuffle of hay, and a small cry. I halt.

“I’m gonna make you moan,” she tells him. “You’re gonna like it that much.”

I don’t know why, but I take a soft step forward. Following the sounds to the far stall at the end of the stable, I get to the door with the top half partially open and listen closely again.

“Come on…” she moans.

I hold my breath and peer through the crack in the door. Skin and hands fill my view as he threads his fingers through her long black hair, and she kneels between his legs and sucks his…

I look away for a second, heat rising to my cheeks.

But her soft little whimpers draw my attention again.

Her head moves up and down on him, her hands running up his jean-clad thighs and gripping his belt, pulling his pants down more, so that I see his hips and the curve of his ass.

I can’t see her face, and I can’t see what she’s doing to him, but I know.

I slide my eyes up—taking in his muscles, skin, shiny with sweat again, and before I get to his face, I know who it is.

Kaleb has his head tilted back, his eyes closed, and breathes hard as he grips her hair, forcing her up and down on his cock. The muscles in his forearms flex, and his hair damn near hangs in his eyes, but I watch his face, the woman forgotten. Sweat dampens the ends of his hair, sticking to his skin, and his lips tighten periodically, because he…

He likes it. I hear her moan, even with him in her mouth, and he pulls her down on him again and again as his eyebrows pinch together.

And then his eyes open.

His head tilts forward again, and his gaze pins me through the crack like he knew I was here the whole time.

Shit.

I stop breathing again. My body tenses, and shame burns my skin, but he starts moving faster, pumping himself into her mouth now as his eyes burn a hole right through me.

My mouth opens, because it’s the only thing that will move. I don’t even see her anymore as he leans forward into her, one hand still in her hair and one hand holding a sideboard as he fucks her mouth. His hips pump faster and faster, his eyes suddenly piercing like they did last night when he pushed me into the wall and… smelled me.

A drop of sweat falls down my stomach under my flannel, and I almost find myself starting to move with him, entranced.

I lean into the door, soaking up the only few centimeters closer I can get.

She groans, he and I stare at each other, and all I see is how he would’ve moved with me last night.

If I hadn’t stopped him.

But then a moan escapes, and I don’t realize it came from me until I see the corner of his mouth curl into a smile. I suck in a breath, finally realizing what the hell I’m doing.

Fuck. I turn away, putting my hand over my mouth and squeezing my eyes shut.

Shit.

Behind me, I hear him grunt under his breath, and then hiss, fast, heavy breathing pouring in and out of his lungs as I lean against the stall, listening to him come.

I shudder, she whimpers, and I run, out of the stable and into the late morning air.

Why did I do that? What the hell was I doing?

A light layer of sweat covers my back, and I wish I had a tank top on under this so I could pull off the long-sleeved shirt.

He’s vile. Jake was right. He and Noah are nothing compared to that.

And I’ll bet he enjoys himself, too, reaping all the benefits of playing the mysterious, tortured soul who doesn’t speak, but it’s just so alluring and sweet, because women want to save him.

I don’t care what happened to him when he was four.

And I did nothing wrong. I heard a cry. I went to look. Shock prevented me from moving once I saw what it was. That’s it.

I pull Noah’s baseball cap off and turn it around, the bill shielding me from the sun as I head back to the truck where Jake is sweeping out the bed.

“Hey, Tiernan!” I hear Noah call.

I tense, wondering if he saw me watching his brother. Turning around, I see everyone loading onto their bikes, the two girls I saw earlier climbing onto their own, and Noah smiling from his.

I raise my eyebrows.

“You want to come with us?” he asks.

I look behind him, recognizing the guy from town yesterday.

Terrance. The one he apparently doesn’t like, but I guess they travel in the same circles, and it’s a small town, so... He pulls on his helmet, a smile in his eyes as he watches me.

I glance at Jake for a way out.

He jumps down from the bed, jerking his chin at me. “I have to make a run to town anyway. Go ahead,” he tells me. “Have fun, but stay with Noah.”

My stomach sinks. I don’t like being around people I don’t know. I don’t like being around people.

When I turn back around, though, I see Kaleb strolling out of the stables, pulling his shirt on, and the girl he had in the stall following him.

The girl from the store yesterday. The one who tried to get in my face.

I stare at her—tight jeans, loose green tank top, long black hair—and a brick sits in my stomach.

“Come on.” Noah holds a helmet out to me. “Ride with me.”

And for some reason, I kind of want to now. My feet move without thinking.

I walk over to Noah, meeting Terrance Holcomb’s eyes for a moment as I pass.

But as soon as I stop at Noah’s bike, turn my cap around, and reach for the helmet, another hand shoots out and pulls it away before I can get to it.

I look up, seeing Kaleb. He only hesitates a moment, glaring down at me, before tossing the helmet to the ground and away from me. Taking my arm, he pulls me away from the bikes, and I stumble and straighten just in time as he walks into me, forcing me backward.

My heart hammers in my chest as he stares down at me, and then he jerks his chin toward the house. He doesn’t have to say a word for me to know he’s ordering me inside.

Away from them. Away from him.

“Kaleb,” I hear Noah chide.

But snickers and snorts break out around the group, and despite the twinge of anger I feel, my eyes start to burn.