Post by Ripley on Apr 1, 2015 10:12:45 GMT -5
Mal shoved his hands through his dark hair as he stepped onto the porch of the home he shared with Adele. Her truck wasn't in the drive which meant she was being kept hostage by Landing. The man seemed to take pleasure in keeping his wife from him. The relationship was still rocky with Landing. God knew the man wasn't as big a grudge holder as Malcolm, but Mal didn't trust him still. Ripley spent loads of time with Intrepid. Brooks was a downright drinking buddy with the man. Mal simply didn't like a man who would attempt to stop a marriage from happening when it clearly was the best thing for both parties involved. Mal turned around, cocked his hip, analyzed his pretty little yard from the looping white porch. It was a gorgeous piece of property, settled smack in the middle between Intrepid Racing and Witch Creek Stable. He'd not budged an inch from his ideal country home with rolling grass as far as the could see.
A city boy he was not. He didn't mind the downtown appeal. Nothing beat a cold beer under the lights at midnight in town. The atmosphere always seemed to rock him. It reminded him of the west Ireland town he'd grown up in. Someday he wanted to go back and take Adele with him. It'd be a good vacation. They'd never really gone on a honeymoon. They'd gotten married and then Breeders' Cup season had hit. Then after Breeders' Cup season Mal was too busy with the mares and foals at Witch Creek. After the breeding season would be the spring classic season. Mal could practically feel his stress level rising. Perhaps September would be good for Adele and him to slip away. Everything seemed to slow down then.
Mal rolled the sleeves of his flannel shirt up and entered the house. He yawned a big lion's yawn as he untied his clunky barn boots. He felt bad for the glimmering wood floors in the front hall, but that was the danger when you married a horsemen. Unfortunately for the floors, the house was home to a horsewoman as well. His lips quirked at the thought of Adele coming home and sweeping her off her feet. She was a romantic at heart. She'd appreciate it and she'd appreciate the red wine he'd bought for the clam sauce linguine dinner he was going to make. The pair of them were lucky they'd found each other in this crazy world.
Contentment swirled around Mal as he broke out the ingredients for the dinner and chilled the wine. It was about time his pretty wife came home.
A city boy he was not. He didn't mind the downtown appeal. Nothing beat a cold beer under the lights at midnight in town. The atmosphere always seemed to rock him. It reminded him of the west Ireland town he'd grown up in. Someday he wanted to go back and take Adele with him. It'd be a good vacation. They'd never really gone on a honeymoon. They'd gotten married and then Breeders' Cup season had hit. Then after Breeders' Cup season Mal was too busy with the mares and foals at Witch Creek. After the breeding season would be the spring classic season. Mal could practically feel his stress level rising. Perhaps September would be good for Adele and him to slip away. Everything seemed to slow down then.
Mal rolled the sleeves of his flannel shirt up and entered the house. He yawned a big lion's yawn as he untied his clunky barn boots. He felt bad for the glimmering wood floors in the front hall, but that was the danger when you married a horsemen. Unfortunately for the floors, the house was home to a horsewoman as well. His lips quirked at the thought of Adele coming home and sweeping her off her feet. She was a romantic at heart. She'd appreciate it and she'd appreciate the red wine he'd bought for the clam sauce linguine dinner he was going to make. The pair of them were lucky they'd found each other in this crazy world.
Contentment swirled around Mal as he broke out the ingredients for the dinner and chilled the wine. It was about time his pretty wife came home.