Clutch & Taylor: The Wedding (Custom Culture Book 6)

My eyes widened. "Are you sure about that?" Should have kept with my earlier plan. I knew I'd just fired a missile, but I couldn't stop myself.

  "I've changed and you know it." She stopped and backed up. "No, you know what? I'm not going to apologize or explain myself or plead my case. I don't need this. I don't need you." Tears ran freely down her cheeks. "You know that I've loved you fucking forever, but you still question that. Well, I'm done." She swung around and took off.

  "Taylor, damnit." I stomped after her but she made it clear she didn't want me to follow. She sidled her way through the maze of curious onlookers and slammed out the door.

  My eyes swept the gym floor and landed on Dray's office. Dray was standing in the doorway pointing at his shoulder.

  I flipped him off and walked back toward the punching bag.

  Twelve

  Taylor

  I had five days to make the necessary changes to the dress patterns for Bridal World, so I had no right to be driving out to Finley's rescue farm. But as I drove my car off the asphalt and onto the long, unpaved road leading to the big red barn, I knew I'd made the right choice. There was no chance in hell that I was going to be able to spend the next few days bent over a design table without a few hours away from everything. I'd walked out of Tank's Gym proud of myself for letting Clutch know how badly he'd hurt me and that he'd made a grave mistake. Then I spent the next hour and a half sitting in traffic, listening to sappy rock songs about heartbreak and crying myself into a major case of hiccoughs. After I'd finally escaped the snarl of cars heading out of town for the weekend, I trudged up the stairs to my apartment with heavy feet and an even heavier head. Clutch called three times during the night, but I never answered. I just wasn't in any mood to make nice with the man.

  When I thought about how many hours of my life I'd spent crying because of Clutch, I wanted to kick my butt hard enough for a trip to the moon. But the moon was too far, so I opted for a day with pudgy farm animals.

  I pulled up to the parking area in front of the main barn. Finley walked out. Only Finley King could make a flannel shirt and faded jeans look as if they belonged on the cover of Vogue. Her long blonde bangs had been swept back under a red bandana head scarf, and it showed the impossible, doll-like perfection of her face. I more than likely owed my big business deal to Finley and Clutch's brother, Rett. I'd used the two of them as models to sell my designs. With the petite, adorable Finley King wearing my designs while standing next to her cake topper of a boyfriend, I just couldn't fail. They made my meticulously sewn garments look like swaths of dull fabric draped around a stunning bride and groom. The latest request of alterations to my designs made me wonder if they had even seen my dresses under the brilliant shine of the woman modeling them.

  I parked and picked up the basket of colorful tail bags Finley had asked me to sew for the horses. She walked toward me with a sad smile. She knew all about what had happened with Clutch. I'd told her the whole bitter story through sobs just before inviting myself out for a day at the barn. Finley had assured me she'd find enough chores for Rett to keep him out of our way. The last thing I needed during my fuzzy animal therapy session was Clutch's younger brother standing around to remind me how much I was hurting.

  Finley hurried to meet me. We hugged for a long time. "I'm so glad you came."

  "I needed a few hours of soft muzzles and swishing tails. Especially since I'll be spending the next few days chained to my design table. Did I tell you they decided my summer collection was too California?" I waved my hand at the clear blue sky. It was late fall but aside from the occasional yellow leaf and the leftover pumpkins sitting in the field, it looked and felt exactly the same as summer. "I mean we're in the land of perpetual sunshine. California and summer go together like peanut butter and jelly. But forget that right now. I don't want to talk business." I took a deep breath and handed her the basket of tail bags. "I smell hay and warm stinky animals, and I want to be a part of that."

  "Great, then we can go stand at the wrong end of the horses and ponies while we groom tails. According to my phone, it's supposed to rain tomorrow." We both followed with the appropriate eye roll that went with the mythical rain prediction.

  Finley pulled out a lavender tail bag. "If we do get some moisture and mud, these tail bags will save me a lot of grooming time." The fringe on the end of the bag fluttered in the breeze as she twirled the one she held on her finger. "This one's perfect. If the bridal thing doesn't work out, I think you've found your new calling. And I assure you the horses aren't nearly as picky or hard to work with as the brides . . . or the Bridal World people with their aversion to California."

  Finley led me to the row of stalls that were half covered by metal roofs. In just a few years, she and Rett had expanded the rescue farm from just one main barn and a few pastures with open shelters to a large, immaculate farm consisting of three barns, four rows of outside stalls and dozens of pastures. They'd even added several outbuildings that stored hay and other necessary supplies. There were dozens of volunteers and two permanent large animal experts on call to help whenever an abused horse or cow was brought to the farm.

  Finley had grown up in the uber-privileged world of a mega rock star, namely, her dad, Nicky King, but mucking stalls and braiding tails was the life she chose. It had always been her dream. Once she'd overcome her anxiety issues, a problem that, at one time, had nearly consumed her life, she started her rescue. Somewhere in between it all, she met and fell in love with Rett. Our friendship naturally followed, and I was grateful for it.

  We stopped in front of a pen with three frisky, rotund miniature horses. All three came to the front of the pen and lifted their muzzles in anticipation of a treat. "They're as furry as bears." I ran my fingers down a long, fuzzy nose.

  "Perpetual summer or not, they still grow a winter coat. I suppose that's because it has more to do with less daylight hours than a drop in temperature. It's nice because they don't need to be blanketed, but I can tell you that when they start to shed out, this whole area gets covered with mountainous puffs of hair. You can just stroke your hand over their back and your palm gets plastered with it. Wait here. I'm going to grab a bucket of brushes."

  Finley walked away and left me with the three adorable little horses. A long needed sigh ushered from my lips. I was glad I'd decided to stop my life for this short retreat. I hoped it would relieve the heaviness in my chest long enough to allow me to make the changes on my designs. Then, once that chore was done, I could take the time to fall apart properly. Or maybe this time I'd hold it together and force myself to move on without Clutch in my life. Right. And maybe little golden fairies would float down and help me finish my designs too.

  I was busy curling my fingers in long forelocks and scratching ears when something nudged the back of my legs. I spun around quickly expecting one of Finley's dogs, but it was her pet pig, Some Pig. His snout wiggled in the air at me. He was wearing a dapper little flannel coat and a bandana around his neck. It was rare to see Some Pig without clothes. Finley had raised the pig inside her dad's Beverly Hills mansion and he was treated like a member of the family. And rightly so. Some Pig had more personality than most people I knew.

  I reached down and scratched Some Pig's head. He pushed his head against my hand to remind me not to stop. Rett stepped out of the nearby barn wearing that infamous Mason smile. Instantly, my throat tightened and I yearned for Clutch. The man was such an integral part of my life that just seeing his brother, a younger sibling who had few similarities to his older brother other than being tall, blond and handsome, sent waves of regret through me. I'd been harsh and impulsive when I went to see Clutch at the gym. I should never have gone to see him in such a rage. No. I needed to put a fast end to the war I was having in my head. Clutch was the one who had been harsh and impulsive.

  "Tater Tot," Rett quipped as he crossed the yard. Hearing my nickname made me smile and made the lump in my throat just a little bigger. But I wasn't going to crumple in front of Rett. Rett gav
e me his usual quick brotherly hug. "Don't worry. I've already been warned that I'm not supposed to hang around. I just wanted to say hello to my favorite Tater Tot. Congratulations on your big business deal. Who knew under those freckles and that sweet smile there was a cutthroat businesswoman? No wonder you get along so well with my—" He stopped and raked his fingers through his hair. "Sorry. Guess that's why I've been banished from hanging around today."

  "It's all right, Rett. Really."

  We stood in an awkward silence that was thankfully broken with Finley's appearance. She was carrying a blue bucket brimming with combs and brushes. "I think the pasture troughs need a good scrubbing," Finley mentioned as she reached us.

  "And that is my cue to scram." Rett bowed to both of us and walked away with Some Pig close at his heels.

  "Looks like Some Pig has fallen head over heels with Rett. What is it about that man? It's like he has this glowing halo around him or something."

  Finley handed me a brush. "Or it could be the granola bar Rett has in his back pocket."

  "Ah, that makes sense. I can't wait to brush some tails. Where do we start?"

  "We'll start with the little guys and work our way up to the big ones."

  "Big ones," I repeated. "Standing behind the big horses sounds a little more intimidating."

  Finley laughed. "Clearly this is new to you." She pointed with her brush at the three small horses behind the bars. "These guys are a way bigger challenge. They tend to dance around like little kids. They know they're cute and they use it to get away with all kinds of stuff the big horses wouldn't dare try."

  "Ah ha, the ole too cute to be bad trick. I get it."

  We walked into the pen. I waited as Finley put halters on each horse and tied them to the bars. Then we set to work brushing tails, a chore that seemed much easier in theory.

  "It's easiest if you take a small section at a time and work your way down through the tangles." Finley demonstrated the technique. I picked up a section of tail and followed her lead.

  We attended to our task in silence for a few minutes. The chorus of soft snorts and occasional bleats and moos floating around the farm provided us with some soothing, rustic music. Even though we were in Southern California, a short drive from Los Angeles, the atmosphere was charmingly country.

  "Originally, I decided to come here to help brighten my mood, which it has, so thank you," I added quickly. "But I think the benefit will be two-fold. I think I'm going to go home knowing exactly which direction my designs should go. I think I can easily soften the California edginess and make something a little more fitting for a bucolic Midwest wedding."

  "Yay. I'm so glad my stinky friends and I could help. I know if I get married I'm going to opt for country charm and not Beverly Hills glitz. My dad will be disappointed, but I'll let him save shiny stuff for his next wedding. His new fiancé is definitely the shiny baubles and glitter type. By the way, I gave her your business card. Hope you don't mind. With my dad paying for everything, she literally has an endless budget. She's looking at all the top designers for a dress. I showed her a few of your perfectly gorgeous confections, and she thought they were beautiful."

  "Thank you so much. Who needs an advertising budget when you've got Finley King as a friend?" The mini horse whose tail I was holding danced from side to side, and I had to shuffle along with him to keep working. "I've decided to put all my energy into my business right now. It's important that I stay focused." So much of my life revolved around Clutch, every topic, even my business always led back to him. "This turmoil in my relationship was the last thing I needed right now."

  "Keeping focused sounds like a solid plan. Everything else will fall into place." Finley's skills and experience allowed her to finish the first horse and move on to the second one before I'd gotten through even a third of the tail on my impatient salon client.

  Finley tied a bright pink tail bag onto the end of the braided tail. The horse swished it back and forth.

  Finley leaned back to admire her handiwork. "Now that's what I call pony bling. It'll save me from having to wash mud out of their tails when that terrible rainstorm passes through."

  "Yes, I'm sure I'll need to get out my rain gear and galoshes," I laughed. "Oh wait, I don't have any. Maybe I'll invest for the next deluge."

  Finley moved onto the next horse. "Of course, we're joking about it, but the drought is pretty scary. Sometimes it feels as if the whole lower half of the state is morphing into desert."

  I finally had the entire tail brushed out and set to work dividing it into three parts for a braid.

  "Oh, I forgot to tell you." Finley walked over and pointed halfway down the tail. "Start the braid down here away from the tail bone. You don't want to cut off circulation." She went back to her horse.

  We concentrated on our job for a few minutes before Finley started the conversation back up.

  "Rett mentioned that Clutch was hurting badly." She looked up, her blue eyes rounded with worry. "Shouldn't have said that. You came here to clear your head, and I just muddied it up again."

  "No, please don't tiptoe because of me, Finley. You know I'm tougher than that. I'm in utter turmoil right now, which is why I so badly needed to come out here. I always feel better when I see you living out your dream and looking so darn happy doing it. Even if you are standing at the wrong end of a horse."

  Finley smiled as she finished tying on the tail bag. "I'm glad you feel better, Taylor. And by the way, don't forget you're living out your dream too. And"—she looked up at me with the kind of deep sincerity only a true friend could muster—"most of the time, you look happy doing it too. But even dream jobs come with their bumps and unexpected turns. We had someone drop off a rescue horse last month. Just pulled up in the middle of the night, tied him to the tree out front and drove off. The couple who watches the farm at night slept right through it until the next morning. They woke to a terrible clamor outside the trailer. It turned out the horse was a stallion, and a mean one at that. Unfortunately, most of them are. I don't accept any here because we just don't have the expertise to handle them. That damn horse had yanked a ten-year-old oak tree out of the ground, roots and all. It was dragging the tree around behind it as it tried to find a way to the mares in the barn. Talk about determination. It damaged the pens and the barn door, not to mention nearly made the mares sick with fear. I finally found someone to take the stallion, but the last time I talked to the guy who hauled him out of here, he said he couldn't even find a vet willing to get close enough to the animal to geld him." She stepped back and tilted her head to check out the tails. "Looks good. Now, why did I just tell you that long ass story? That's right. So expect a lot of stumbles and bad days to go with the good ones. Even dream jobs aren't perfect."

  We left the three ponies with their rainbow colored tails and headed across the yard toward the outdoor stalls.

  "Right now, my business is so new, and it's starting to take off so fast, the last thing I need is to get myself in a twist about Clutch. He should know that. He's a businessman himself."

  "I agree. And don't worry, Clutch will figure it out soon enough. He'll come around."

  We reached the next set of stalls. The warm sweet scent of hay drifted along the breezeway. A giant black and white horse lifted its head over the bar, begging for a neck rub.

  I reached up and patted the animal. "Sometimes I worry that I pushed Clutch too hard to start this relationship. When I was a teenager, my mom always took pleasure in reminding me that I was making a nuisance of myself following him around like a love struck groupie. Of course, she was right. I was doing exactly that. And Clutch never hid the fact that he found me completely irritating. Maybe I just wore him down, and he had no choice except to give in and date me." Despite the joy of being surrounded by horses, this new line of thinking brought back some of the earlier gloom. My chest felt heavy again as if someone was pushing against it.

  Finley rested her arm up on the pipes running across the front of the stall. S
he turned so that she was right in front of me. "You're making up a lot of baloney right now, so stop. From what Rett has told me, Clutch has always loved you. So don't fill your head with fluffy dust bunnies. They'll float to the back of your mind, just like they do under the bed, and you'll never be able to clean them out." She took my hand. "Think straight and stay focused on your business. A little break never hurt any couple. You'll be back together by the time we drive up to Tahoe for the ski trip. Then you can spend your whole weekend having make-up sex."

  We carried the grooming tools into the stall. I thought about her last suggestion of taking a little break, only this didn't feel like a little break. I'd messed with Clutch's emotions once too often. It seemed he was never going to learn to trust me. I couldn't explain it, but it felt more final than a little break. I worried that my last angry words had been all Clutch needed to feel free of me. And maybe with that new sense of freedom, Clutch would realize life was easier without me. That thought depressed the hell out of me.

  One thing was for sure, I was going to let him make the next move. I wasn't going to be that pushy, forward teenager who pestered him nonstop until he had no choice but to notice me. I was a grown-up businesswoman now, and I was going to act it. Even if it meant leaving my heart in a million pieces, I was going to wait for a sign from Clutch that he truly loved me. I needed to be sure that I wasn't just an annoying pain in his side.

  Thirteen

  Clutch

  For the third time that night, Taylor's phone went straight to voicemail. She was still avoiding me. Whenever I had good news, like today, my thoughts went straight to Taylor. Her voice was the one I needed to hear when something significant had happened in my life. But, it seemed, the feeling wasn't mutual. We hadn't spoken in nearly a week, the longest we'd ever gone without talking to each other. I missed her, plain and simple. I was going fucking mad without her.