Authors: Diana Palmer
Chase felt bewitched. “Horses?” he murmured.
Nettie meant fear, but didn’t say so. Patting King’s neck, she said, “I think he’s calm enough to unsaddle now. I bet he’d enjoy a good rubdown, too, wouldn’t you, fella?”
With one hand on the bridle and one holding the reins, she walked King to a post outside the barn. Chase followed, admiring the grace of her movements, noting and enjoying the
quick glances she directed his way as she looped the reins around the wood.
With her hand on King’s neck, she spoke to Chase, but it took him a moment to register the soft request: water. She wanted a bucket of water, a currycomb and a brush.
“Can you find all that in the barn?”
Chase nodded. He wouldn’t be able to find his own head with two hands and a flashlight if he didn’t stop staring at her.
He answered gruffly, “Right,” then turned and strode into the barn.
Looking for a currycomb seemed like an innocuous activity, but then the fresh bedding in the stalls reminded him of all the Westerns he’d seen in which the hero and heroine eventually wound up lying in straw…
Picturing Nettie with straw in her long curly hair wasn’t much of a mental leap.
Clenching his jaw, Chase concentrated on collecting the grooming supplies, but the image of her hands, gentle and feminine, and her amazing innocence as she awkwardly asked him to dinner refused to leave his mind.
He’d had a damned hard time not questioning Nick about her last night, trying hard to convince himself there was nothing he needed to know.
With a bucket of water in one hand, brush and currycomb in the other, he walked into the sunlight, frowning when he saw that Nettie had unbuckled the cinch and was attempting to drag the heavy saddle from King’s back. The Western-style gear was cumbersome and though she didn’t appear weak, unsaddling the tall horse was obviously an effort.
Immediately, he wanted to take over and wondered if she would care about the political incorrectness of his response. There were women in his circle who would throttle him for interfering.
While he hesitated, King shifted sideways toward Nettie. She murmured to him, balanced herself and repositioned her grip on the saddle. Chase heard her count, “One, two, three,” then watched her heave the saddle up and off the animal’s back just as Chester the Devil Cat strolled lazily—and deliberately—within view of the horse.
“I’ll be damned—” Chase began in amazement, then forgot
about the cat as King fussed and bumped into Nettie, throwing her off balance. She began to teeter. Trying to calm King and save herself at the same time proved to be too much, and she stumbled, emitting a little yelp as she started to fall backward.
The yelp did it.
Chase dropped the bucket, tossed the grooming tools and was behind Nettie in a flash. She was slight enough that his arms circled her with ease as he reached for the saddle she clutched to her belly. Sandwiching her between himself and the saddle with a triumphant “Gotcha!” he felt her slender shoulders, the curve of her derriere and finally the back of her head as she stumbled against him. He’d have to be a mannequin not to react to the feel of her.
He hung onto the saddle more easily than he did his sanity while she steadied herself. Her sandaled feet danced around his borrowed cowboy boots, and the scent of flowers wafted up from her hair so that he barely registered pain when she ground her heel on his instep.
Chest to back, they breathed together. He felt her body expand and contract, felt his own breathing quicken in time with hers. His biceps bunched as he carried the weight of the saddle, but what he really noticed was the softness of her arms against the hardness of his. This was not an effective way to avoid thinking about her. Chase stayed very still, hoping she wouldn’t notice that body parts other than his biceps had gone rather…solid. His mouth twisted wryly. He was reacting like a high-schooler with runaway hormones.
When she was balanced on her own two feet again, she pulled away slightly, tilted her head up and around and said, so softly that he had to read her lips to make out the words, “Thank you.”
Chase nodded. And gritted his teeth.
Those lips.
Soft, lush, ripe. Cupid had drawn them to drive a man crazy.
Neutral
, he reminded himself.
Think of Switzerland.
Tensely, he waited for her to turn around again or to slip out from beneath his arms…something. But she stayed put, eyes so wide and so beautiful that he wanted to capture them on film.
He failed to come up with a single neutral thought that would stick as his gaze locked with hers, as the delicate, perfect parting
of her lips made her look as if she were on the verge of saying something.
If his expression conveyed anything at all, she must be able to guess what he wanted. And yet she didn’t turn away.
Directly under his gaze, her breasts rose and fell, and he thought—in fact, he could have sworn—he heard her sigh.
Switzerland. Capital city, Bern. Swiss…banks. Swiss…chocolate. Swiss…
“Ah, to hell with it—”
Forced between his teeth, the words hovered between them for a moment. Then Chase answered the mild surprise on Nettie’s face by claiming that glorious mouth with his own.
H
e meant it to last a moment; but her lips were soft and tasted like cherries, so he lingered a moment longer and then—
Chase stifled the groan that wanted to rise from his belly. Her lips parted—just a bit—but the temptation to press his mouth more firmly against hers became irresistible.
Holding the saddle in his hands was an exercise in frustration. He craved the freedom to turn her around, thread his fingers through her thick, curly hair and let his other hand roam where he knew it shouldn’t.
Guilt made his muscles tighten. He had no business kissing her like this. She was trapped between the saddle and his chest. He hadn’t asked if he could kiss her and he didn’t want it to go any further…He didn’t.
Exerting more effort than it usually took to finish his last set of curls at the gym, Chase tensed his jaw, stopped kissing and lifted his head. Then he stared down at the beautiful woman before him.
Her eyes remained closed a while. When her lids fluttered, she looked up and Chase found himself staring into two huge blue pools of soft dreamy surprise.
He almost growled.
He didn’t want innocence in a woman. Never had. Where there was innocence there was also expectation. The only expectations he ever wanted to live up to were his own.
“I need to put the saddle down.” His voice was a disgustingly weak croak.
Nettie blinked at him dazedly, then nodded. “Yes.” Smiling a little shyly—which, dammit, made him want to kiss her again—she glanced around, finally deciding to slip down under his arms.
Chase silently nodded his thanks. Walking past her, he slung the saddle over the tie-out and turned back. She looked uncertain, but full of anticipation and utterly beautiful. She looked—
As though she wanted to be kissed again.
Grimly, Chase shook his head.
Don’t even think about it.
He walked toward her. Time to say good-bye.
Nettie watched Chase Reynolds with a curious blend of excitement and objectivity.
Brian had been handsome, but in a boyish way. Until a minute ago, he had been the only man she’d ever kissed.
Kissing Chase Reynolds was different. He kissed the way he looked: sleek and dangerous, vital and strong. Her lips were still tingling. There had been a moment there when she’d been sure he was going to kiss her again, and the sheer excitement of expecting it had been exhilarating.
Good grief, Annette Louise, you’ve barely stepped into the starting gate and already you want to race down the track!
“Slow down,” she murmured under her breath, not even aware she’d spoken until Chase responded by holding up a hand.
“I’m sorry.” His voice was low, gravelly and somber. “That was a mistake.”
It took a moment to realize he was responding to her. “No!” she said. “I wasn’t talking about the kiss. I meant…It was?”
Chase grimaced, looking like he wanted to kick himself. “Not a
mistake.
That wasn’t the right…”
“Word. No. No, it didn’t feel like a mistake.” She blushed.
Pay attention. The man is telling you he’s sorry he kissed you.
“Maybe it was a bit precipitous.” No way was she going to let him think he was the only one regretting this.
“Precipitous?” Ironic humor poked at the corner of his mouth. “Good word.” He walked toward her, stopping when there was less than a foot between them. Even that short space seemed to be filled with something. An electric charge. A magnetic pull.
“There are rules about kisses,” Chase said, his smile fading. His eyes grew dark and sober.
“Rules?”
“Don’t kiss before the first date.”
His closeness made it hard for Nettie to take a deep breath. “I suppose that’s a good policy,” she agreed, sounding, she thought, as if she’d just run a mile. “Is that it?”
He shook his head. “No. Rule number two: Never kiss a small-town girl if you know you’re not planning to stay.”
Nettie’s lips thinned. To a man like Chase,
small-town
no doubt implied a certain naiveté, a husband-hungry woman who expected to hear the word
forever
every time she was kissed. Nettie’s eyes narrowed. Well, you got the wrong girl.
Forever
was no longer a part of her vocabulary.
It occurred to her suddenly that she was sick and tired of other people’s opinions. Fed up with following rules, about dating or anything else. She’d followed rules all her life, either other people’s or the ones she’d made up for herself, the ones that were supposed to keep everyone safe and calm and happy. A lot of good that had done her.
What if, just this once, she did what she wanted and not what she thought she
ought
to do?
“I’m not a woman who follows rules,” she said. The lie tasted so good on her lips she followed it immediately with another. “Never have been. Never will be.” In a decidedly un-Nettie-like move, she traced an instructive index finger slowly up the middle of his chest from breast to collarbone. “But if I were, I would remind you about rule number three: Always consult the woman in question before making executive decisions.”
Chase exhaled heavily. “Are you real?” he asked.
“If you’re asking whether I mean what I say, there’s only one way to find out.”
For a moment there was only silence. Neither of them so much as twitched.
Nettie could have sworn Chase moved first, but when she thought about it later she couldn’t be absolutely certain. In the long run, who cared? In an instant they were moving together, grabbing shoulders, tracing hands across backs, melding lips and clinging with an abandon that electrified her down to her toes.
She lost all track of time and her surroundings. They both seemed to. When tires crunched along the driveway, neither reacted. They didn’t hear the sound of a truck parking in the driveway or of a door opening and closing. They weren’t aware of a thing except each other, until Nick coughed loudly behind them. Even then, it took a moment to respond.
Chase reacted first, squeezing Nettie’s arm before he broke off the kiss and lifted his head.
He cleared his throat. “Company,” he murmured, holding and shielding her from Nick’s view until she collected herself.
Nettie tuned into her surroundings slowly. She felt like she was quite literally melting, as if she were being filled right that very moment with drippy, delicious golden sunshine and couldn’t be troubled to move or think or worry about a thing.
She moistened her lips. And smiled. “Hello, Nick.” She giggled. Her voice sounded like she’d spent too much time on a hot beach.
Nick didn’t seem to appreciate the perfection of the moment. He divided his scowl between Nettie and Chase, finally demanding tightly of the other man, “What’s going on?”
Chase stiffened beside her. He let go of Nettie’s arm and faced his host squarely. Tall, broad and appearing remarkably adversarial for two people who were supposed to be friends, the men held each other’s gazes while Nick waited for an answer and Chase stubbornly refused to give one.
Finally, Nick broke the stare and turned toward Nettie. “Where’s Sara?”
“Sara?” Nettie shrugged. “In town, I suppose.”
Nick glanced toward the Wagoneer parked in front of his house. “How did you get out here?”
Since he was looking at the answer, there should have been no need for the question. But Nick was aware that Nettie hadn’t driven anywhere all by herself for some time.
Their parents had been good friends. Nick had acted as a protective big brother through the years, and as appreciative as Nettie was for his steady presence in their lives, she did not want him blabbing about her fears in front of Chase.
Hurriedly stepping in front of Chase, she said, “I drove, of course,” then gave Nick a don’t-say-
anything
look. He didn’t seem to get it.
“By yourself?”
“Well, of course!” Trying once more to communicate by expression alone, she winked and puckered her lips to mouth
shh.
“I came to pick up the eggs.”
“The eggs?”
“Yes.” She winked again, longer. “I know you usually bring
the eggs
over to our place, but I wanted to save you the bother since you’ve been so busy lately. Besides, you know how
I love to drive.
” She smiled over her shoulder at Chase. “I’m always out somewhere.” She waved a hand. “Flying here, flying there.”
Nick’s brows shot up briefly. He glanced between the two of them without exercising any subtlety whatsoever before his expression filled with understanding.
Wishing she could kick Nick hard in the shins, Nettie said, “I’ll get the eggs now.”
She started toward the car, intending to get one of the boxes she’d thrown in the car to support her excuse for coming over. Nick’s voice stopped her. “Nettie?”
She turned.
“I don’t have chickens.”
An awful heat crept up her neck. She focused on Nick, not even daring to glance Chase’s way. She could have sworn…
Nick shook his head.
The heat moved into her face. “Well. My goodness, where did the chickens go?” Silently, she pleaded for Nick to help her out.
He scowled. Scratching his sideburns where they met his beard, he looked extremely uncomfortable as he improvised, “They…ran away.”
Nettie affected dismayed surprise. “Again?”
Both men stared at her. Chase shook his head in utter disbelief,
then laughed at his friend. “What kind of chickens run away from home?”
“The kind that don’t want to get eaten!” Nick growled, glaring to say he didn’t intend to discuss it any further. He looked at Nettie. “Did you come over for anything—” His quick glance at Chase told her he knew exactly why she’d braved the drive over today. “—besides eggs?”
“No.” She prayed fervently that she wouldn’t blush again. “That was all.” Nettie nodded toward the horse still waiting to be attended to. “King needs to be rubbed down. And the cat is around here somewhere. I’ve got to get home.” She began backing toward the car. “Nice seeing you again, Chase.” He appeared a little off-kilter, which under the circumstances was probably a good way to leave him.
Hoping Nick wouldn’t blow her cover once she left, Nettie nodded to her old friend. “Bye, Nick. Sorry to hear about your chickens.” She turned and hustled to the car. Smiling as she started the vehicle, she turned it around and waved to the two men who watched her head down the driveway as if she didn’t have a care in the world.
She was halfway down the road that led home before she had to pull over to the shoulder to catch her shaky breath.
In a single morning she, the self-confessed Miss Goody Two-Shoes of Kalamoose County, had turned into a liar, a flirt and—
She expelled a long noisy breath. “I’m a hussy.”
She hadn’t just made a date to get together for drinks or coffee; she hadn’t climbed back in the saddle, as it were, by agreeing to go on a blind date. Nope. One minute she’d decided to reenter the dating scene and the next she’d locked lips with Chase Reynolds, the sexiest man on the planet.
When she decided to change, she
really
changed.
A smile, genuine this time, stretched across Nettie’s lips. The sexiest man on the planet hadn’t been exactly reluctant to kiss her, either. What would have happened, she wondered, if Nick hadn’t shown up? How did you talk to a man you barely knew after kissing him like that?
Throwing the car into drive, she eased back onto the empty road. Sunlight relaxed her like a warm bath as it streamed through the window. The hot rays weren’t nearly as toasty, though, as the memory of Chase’s incredibly male, hungry lips.
Imagining the scene that might have ensued if Nick hadn’t shown up kept Nettie occupied all the way home.
It wasn’t yet noon when Nettie pulled the Wagoneer to the back of her house. A familiar patrol car was parked out front, and the door to the mud porch was wide open. Sara must have returned home for lunch.
Nettie had only reached the porch steps when Sara sailed through the open door. “You gave me the fright of my life, hang it all! I came home and you and Jezebel were both gone. Who’s with you?” Craning her neck, she tried to look over Nettie’s head toward the Wagoneer.
“No one is with me,” Nettie said with enviable calm and poise. “I decided to go for a little drive. Alone.” She edged past her sister into the house. The surprise and confusion on Sara’s normally confident face was almost worth the panic Nettie had suffered when she’d first got into the car.
“You went alone?” Sara dogged her heels into the house. “All alone? How? I thought you couldn’t drive since—” Sara stopped short of saying “the accident.”
Nettie kept moving as she decided how to answer. She went to the refrigerator and pulled out cold chicken, mayonnaise and a tomato, crossed to the bread bin and took out two large potato rolls. As she reached for plates, she spoke quietly. “I couldn’t. Or I
thought
I couldn’t.” She shrugged. “Now I can.” Without looking in her sister’s direction, Nettie could feel Sara watching her closely.
“Just like that?”
“Yes.” Unwrapping the chicken, she amended, “Sort of. I’ve been listening to some audio tapes Lilah sent me.”
“You mean those New Age voodoo hypnotist tapes?”
“They’re not voodoo! They’re part of a very practical, very common-sense program to heal agoraphobia. It was designed by a therapist. And I think it’s helping.”
Sara snorted grudgingly. “If they’re so common-sense, I wonder how Lilah found them? Boy, leave it to her to handle a problem long-distance.”
Nettie scrunched the foil into a tight ball. “When you say
problem
, just what
problem
are you talking about? Me? I certainly hope not, because I am not your problem or Lilah’s!”
“I didn’t say you were. Don’t be so touchy. I just didn’t expect to come home and find you gone, that’s all.”
“Well, expect it more often, because I may not be here a lot in the future.” Yanking a knife from a wooden block on the counter, Nettie carved several pieces of chicken for sandwiches. “I drove all the way to Nick’s place today, and I liked it.”
Halfway into the act of snatching a piece of chicken, Sara paused. “Nick’s place? Why would you go—?” Her mouth opened to form an O, or in this case, an Oh, no. “You went there to see him, didn’t you?”