Free A Change of Pace by JM Cartwright

gossiped just as badly as teenaged girls.
    He’d called Shelby as soon as they’d started break. His friend wasn’t a morning person, so Ridge tried to avoid calling him before nine a.m.
    “That’s because you were with a bang ‘em and run asshole.” Shelby yawned. He never had liked Ridge’s college boyfriend. “So, what did you two do?”
    How to answer that. “Um. It was kind of amazing. Um, I was in the shop yesterday, working on that desk for, you know, those folks in Montford--”
    “I know about the desk.” Shelby could sound so superior when he wanted.
    “Well, I was just wanting to tell you how I ran into Drew when I went up to the inn to check with Rae on--”
    “Just tell me about last night. Get to the good parts.”
    Ridge rolled his eyes. “You know, for a guy who has a new date practically every week, you’re awfully interested in what I was doing last night.”
    His friend was quiet for a moment. “Maybe I’m looking for something new, you ever think of that?”
    “You’re looking, all right. But the guys you meet just want to hook up -- and use you as arm candy.” Ridge shook his head. It was the same old argument. Shelby was going to do what he was going to do. “Forget it. Let’s not have this discussion again. Especially since I had a hook-up of my own last night.” Hard to be self-righteous on that one.
    His friend sounded relieved when he answered. “Fine with me. Just tell me all.”
    Snorting, Ridge shook his head. “Uh-uh. How about I give you just a few highlights? Or, come to think of it, maybe just the lowlights.”
    Shelby’s laughter was infectious, and before too long, Ridge was joining him.
    ***
    His phone rang a few hours later, the notes of “Bad Romance” sounding. The painter who was working on the window trim gave him a skeptical look.
    “What? I like Lady Gaga.” It was his new ringtone.
    Shaking his head, the painter applied himself to his brushing. “Uh-huh. Sure you do. You might want to tone that down around some of the boys, though.”
    Acknowledging the wisdom of that with a grimace, Ridge mouthed “Thanks” as he flipped open his phone. Looking at the number on the caller ID display, he grinned. It was Drew. “Hey.”
    “Ridge! She’s here! Man, she looks great.”
    Smiling, Ridge stepped out of the kitchen and walked to a quiet area of the house. “Who’s here, Drew? What’s going on?”
    “My Bella. The trailer just pulled in a few minutes ago.” Ridge could hear some loud banging in the background, and he frowned.
    “Where are you? What’s going on?”
    “Listen, come over to the Hidden Springs Stables, will you? Do you know where that is? Can you get away?” Suddenly Drew cursed loudly and his voice sounded far away for a moment. “Goddamn it, let’s get her out of there, okay?”
    Drew’s voice came back on with Ridge. “Listen, I’ve got to go. Come on over, okay?” The line went dead.
    Ridge shook his head, smiling. Whatever it was, it sure had Drew excited. He headed over to his foreman to ask for an early, long lunch, and to check Google Maps.
    Twenty minutes later, Ridge pulled into a tree-shaded drive that wound away from the road. He parked in front of a barn-like structure, stopping next to Drew’s truck. He got out and walked to the Navigator, spotting the dogs inside, lying in the back. Drew had parked in the deep shade to protect the dogs. All the windows were open, and the temperature under the huge black locust was at fifteen degrees cooler than out in the sunshine.
    At his soft whistle, Henry and Elsa sat up with a woof. They stuck their heads over the seat back, and he reached in the window to rub and scratch obligingly, crooning to them while he cast his eyes around, trying to find Drew.
    The main building reminded him a little of Churchill Downs -- at least what he had seen of it on television. He’d watched the Kentucky Derby a time or two and had always liked the gracious style and tall steeples of the