Lead Me Home

“I have both, and good morning to you, too.”

His smile was sheepish. “Sorry. When I’m working, I have a bad habit of getting tunnel vision. And speaking of that, there was something else I wanted to ask you about. What was it?” Frowning, he gazed at the floor and tapped his hat against his denim-covered thigh. His jeans were more worn and formfitting than the ones he’d had on the night before, too.

“Did you want to discuss what time you’ll be coming to the house tonight?”

He glanced up, his gaze now focused and intent. “Sarah talked to you about that?”

“Yes.” She couldn’t stop looking at him. She wanted to walk over, peel the shirt from his body and lick the sweat from his powerful chest. Who needed whipped cream with a guy like Matthew?

“You’re okay with that plan?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

He held her gaze for a long, hot moment. “Just checking.”

Her toes curled inside her running shoes. She knew exactly what he was checking. He wanted to find out if she’d had a change of heart following their mutual admiration society the night before. He wanted to know whether she was willing to see where this sexual chemistry might lead them.

“I think it’s a fine idea,” she said, in case he had any doubts about her feelings. “I’m ready for whatever suggestions you want to make.” That was a little bolder in the double-meaning department than she’d intended, but she let the statement stand.

The effect on him was instantaneous. A flame leaped in his blue eyes and he took an involuntary step forward. Then he paused as if he’d belatedly realized this wasn’t the time or the place.

He nodded. “Good. I’m glad.”

“Do you want the carrots and apples cut up or whole?”

He blinked as if he had no clue what she was talking about. Then the fog cleared. “Cut up, if you don’t mind. And if you could put them in a plastic bag, that would be great.”

“Sure thing.” She pulled the carrots out of the refrigerator and took a couple of apples from a bowl on the counter.

“Or I can cut them up,” he said. “I’m sure you’re busy getting lunch ready.”

“That’s okay.” She got out a cutting board and set to work. “I’m the cook, which probably extends to making treats for the horses. This is for Houdini, right?”

“It is.”

“How’s everything going with him?”

“If we can stay on schedule, I’ll ride him around the corral this afternoon.”

She turned to him, knife poised in midair. “Ride him already? Sarah told me he’s never been ridden.”

“Well, today’s the day.”

His quiet confidence registered on her lust-o-meter. So would his competence if he pulled this off. She continued slicing up the apples and carrots. “You should probably sell tickets.”

“I doubt anybody would buy them.”

“I would.”

“Then I hereby offer you a complimentary ticket to the official riding demonstration featuring Houdini and yours truly.”

“How will I know when it is?”

“You might want to come out around four. I’m shooting for that.”

She scooped the pieces of carrot and apple into a plastic bag, zipped it closed and walked over so she could hand it to him. “It’s only the first day. I’m sure nobody expects you to ride him on the first day.”

“But I do.”

She admired his attitude even more than she admired his body, and that was saying a lot. “Understood.”

“Thanks for the horse treats.” His hand brushed hers as he took the bag.