Things are about to get a lot more complicated for Travis and I.

I'm happy for him. I really am. He seems to feel the same way about football that I feel about racing, and if this is going to make him more confident and fulfilled, I want him to have it.

But it's already changed the way we do things.

He stayed at my place last night and we went to bed a little earlier than normal. Or planned to, anyway. I may have been a little too horny for my own good. He loves sleeping in the nude, though, and it's impossible for me to stare at his bare chest or thighs or ass and not get hard. Usually it doesn't matter, since we're either naked for that very reason, or I'm exhausted from slaking that lust already.

I'd tried to roll over and take care of it myself, but Travis wasn't having any of that. His hand reached around and gripped my cock while his own hardening shaft slid over the cleft of my ass, and—long story short—we were up until one or so when we'd set an alarm for four.

I groan when I hear it and reach for my phone to make it shut up. Five minutes later, it blares out its deceptively sweet, melodic tones again, but I feel the bed shift beside me.

Travis leans over top of me, the muscles in his arms bunching as he holds himself up. He's bright-eyed and smiling like he somehow managed to cheat more hours out of our short night than me.

"You're not suddenly going to turn into a morning person, are you," I murmur, hating that idea with a passion.

Travis just grins. "Nah, no danger of that."

I can tell he's excited for today, though, and I can't help but smile. Doesn't mean I like this whole three hours of sleep thing any better, though. I reach for the phone again, but Travis stops me.

"Just let it ring," he says.

I arch a brow, lifting it even higher as he makes his way down my body. He drops down to his elbows, his hands on my thighs, and my dick perks up right away.

His stubble scratches against sensitive skin as he kisses his way inward, tonguing the front of my briefs, pressing at the slightly damp spot. I shudder, the muscles in my abdomen spasming, and I can definitely say I'm awake now.

Travis looks up at me, his lip pulled between his teeth as he peels back the waistband of my briefs just enough to reveal the tip of my cock, his tongue flicking over the slit.

"Fuck," I breathe.

But it's almost impossible to let myself get lost in it with that damn alarm going off. I shoot a glare at it, feeling the brush of heated air as Travis chuckles.

"I'm trying to do a science thing here. Jesus."

"A science thing? Are there a lot of scientific studies that involve blowjobs?" I ask with a smirk.

"Mine do." He grins. "And eventually, you're not going to be able to think about the alarm at all. In fact, I bet if I do it enough, you'll get hard as soon as you hear it go off."

A deep groan rumbles through my chest at the thought of waking up to Travis' mouth every morning. But then I think about it with something other than my dick, and I laugh.

"Are you trying to train me into a Pavlovian response?"

"Yep," he says, sounding incredibly smug.

And he has a right to be, because the next time the alarm goes off, I barely notice it.

* * *

We meet with the town vet at six, a guy I've trusted to tend to my horses since I got to Glen Springs. I remember thinking he was attractive when I first met him, but having no idea if he was gay or not. I still have no idea—he's a quiet and somewhat shy person—but with Travis in my life, I'm only focused on one thing: Whether or not he's going to clear Apollo to race.

"You're Jake's brother, right?" he asks after Travis introduces himself.

"Yep."

And this time when he smiles, it's not nervous or hesitant. Things really must be better between them if he isn't worried about what Jake's friends might think of him.

"Deacon," he says, offering his hand to shake.

I try hard to conceal a snort when Travis' brows lift.

"Yeah, I know. Sounds like the name you'd find in a biker gang." He laughs sheepishly.

"No, it's a cool name." Travis is trying so hard to backpedal.

"My mom named me after the hero of the book she was reading when she went into labor. My older brother's named Raine, and my younger brother is Camden. Same reason."

That's actually more than I knew, and honestly more than I've heard him say about his personal life. Travis apparently just brings out the friendliness in everyone. Either that or Deacon's star struck and babbling.

"But I'm not here to bore you guys with my family's love of romance novels," he says with a smile. "Apollo still in the last stall?"

"Yep," I say, and I lead him toward it.

Travis and I stand back as Deacon works, my nerves tangling into knots despite the fact that I trust him implicitly. His word here will determine Apollo's future, and even though I've kept all the possibilities open, I really want to see him race again. It seems cruel that a horse built for speed should be confined to normal, everyday riding.

At some point, I feel Travis' hand grasp mine, and I look up at him in shock. I know what he said, and I absolutely believe him, but we've never been public. We don't even really show that much affection when we're around Jake. But it feels right, somehow, and it calms me down. I give his hand a squeeze in thanks and watch as Deacon checks Apollo's feet and slides his hands along his legs.

"Everything feels good so far," he assures us. "If you want to bring him out front and lead him around so I can get a look at his form?"

I do, grasping the halter and using it to guide Apollo out of the stables. The other horses were let into the pasture an hour ago, but Gloria and Domino are at the fence, their necks craning out over it as if they're trying to see the verdict, too.

In reality I know they're just hoping Deacon will spoil them like he always does, but it makes me feel less crazy to believe the horses are as invested in this as I am.

I walk with Apollo, Travis on my other side. Deacon watches, and I find myself holding my breath as I wait for his appraisal.

"He looks great, Shane," he says with a smile, and I let out a relieved sigh. "You've done really well with him."

"You don't need to do any x-rays or anything?" Travis asks, almost sounding like a concerned parent.

"Not unless Apollo shows any signs of pain or lameness in that leg," he says, snapping his medical bag shut. "Horses can heal remarkably well on their own; they're just not usually given what they need to do it properly."

I can't help but feel a little pride in that. I wouldn't say Deacon is hyper-critical, but he has pretty high standards of pet care. The fact that I've impressed him makes me feel like I'm doing exactly what I need to be doing: Giving these horses the second chance they deserve.

"Good job," Travis whispers, gently bumping my shoulder with his.

Deacon looks between us, his brows lifting in slight surprise. I can feel heat rising in my cheeks, but the doctor just smiles.

"Any restrictions?" I ask after clearing my throat.

"You can gradually increase his training, so long as you're giving him a lot of time to warm up. I wouldn't run him any harder than a canter just yet, and definitely monitor him. If his gait seems different, slow him down and give me a call."

I nod, reaching out my hand to shake Deacon's. We say our goodbyes, and he heads over to his truck, off to open his clinic for the day, I'm guessing.

Travis only waits for the door to close before he pulls me into his arms for a congratulatory kiss. This time I don't hesitate, my fingers bunching at his shoulders as I kiss him back.

"This is amazing," he says when we part, his gaze moving to Apollo. "You took in a horse nobody wanted, and now he's probably going to run circles around everybody else on the track."

I laugh at that, though I can't help but feel a giddy sort of thrill. "It'll be a while before he competes. He's still got a couple more weeks of just light riding, and I need to get back in shape if I'm going to be the one training him to do anything more."

Travis arches a brow at that, his hand slipping underneath my shirt, fingers tracing my toned abdomen. "You seem pretty in shape to me."

"Farm work doesn't count as a workout routine. Jockeys need strong legs and stronger cores, and a lot of endurance. And no, fucking doesn't count, either," I say with a smirk, his amorous look giving him away.

"I guess we're not trying hard enough then." He grins, then says, "You could always join me at the gym. Come for an hour or two, head back, then we can meet up again after I'm done."

The idea has merit. Travis is supposed to spend four solid hours at the gym every single day. It seems insane to me, but they want him in peak condition, and apparently farm work and fucking don't count for him, either.

I wasn't looking forward to him being away for that long, even if I can easily keep up with the ranch work on my own. And I can admit it'll probably feel good to get back into the swing of things… so long as I can ignore the unhealthy habits that came along with my training last time.

"As long as I won't be too much of a distraction," I tell him.

"You will," he murmurs. "But that'll just make me work harder so I can get back here faster."

It sounds ideal, and as we take Apollo over to the paddock and get dressed for the gym, I can't help hoping this new routine won't be as disruptive as I originally thought.