This Kiss. Teresa SouthwickЧитать онлайн книгу.
a restless night, Dev had risen earlier than usual. He’d wanted to get work out of the way so he had plenty of time for Hannah’s riding lesson. Except why he should go to so much trouble was what had kept him awake in the first place. Here on the ranch, there were always a million and one things to do. Not to mention the godawful paperwork he avoided as long as he possibly could. Given a choice between four walls and a computer spreadsheet program or outdoors and the horses, there was no contest.
All night long he hadn’t been able to stop factoring Hannah Morgan into the outdoors and horses part. Because he’d thought her presence would be awkward and it wasn’t. Because he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Because he’d watched his son take a fancy to her. Because she’d implied that he’d been Destiny High’s all-around playboy.
That’s not the way he remembered it. She must have him confused with another cowboy she’d tutored.
But for those reasons and probably some he hadn’t thought of yet, it was a fact that he now stood in the corral, horse saddled and waiting for her, at the time they’d agreed on. As if that wasn’t bad enough, he was waiting with more anticipation than he wanted to feel. He hadn’t seen Hannah yet today. He’d been out of the house and working before sunup, same as every other morning. Which was why he was so grateful to have Polly to look after Ben.
Was it gratitude that had goaded him into this offer to teach Hannah to ride? Her mother had bailed him out big time by taking care of the house and his son. Hannah had doctored Newy’s bum shoulder yesterday. And Dev had to admit she’d impressed him with her skill. So he was beholden to both of the Morgan women. Was that enough to explain why the prospect of seeing Hannah had him lit up inside like the grand opening of a Las Vegas casino?
His memories of her in high school were hazy at best. He remembered the tutoring. How could he forget? It had been damned humiliating. His grades had been pretty good—in everything but physics. To maintain sports eligibility, he’d been forced to get help in that subject. His teacher had insisted it be Hannah, who was tops in her honors class. But not only was she several years younger, she was a girl and a brainer. At a time when he was struggling to be a man, she’d made him feel like a greenhorn kid.
She’d been skinny as a boy with glasses bigger than her face. Who knew in ten years she’d grow breasts and curves that would turn her into a package cute as could be? He’d never guessed that behind those Coke bottle lenses she’d had eyes bigger and bluer than a field of Texas bluebonnets.
And so what?
She was here for six weeks, to rest up and see her mother. The visit was nothing more than temporary because her life was on the west coast. He’d been burned once by a woman who’d believed greener pastures were anywhere but Destiny. Hannah had left for college earlier than most and carved out a life for herself fifteen hundred miles away. He would be a fool to let luscious curves and beautiful blue eyes make him forget that. His mission was to get her over her fear of horses. Then leave her be.
He glanced up the hill and saw her approaching. In her jeans, lime-green T-shirt and denim baseball hat, she looked awful darn tempting. She was covered from head to toe, but what she wore highlighted those mouthwatering curves he’d so recently thought about. His pulse kicked up a notch even though he could see very little of her flesh. That thought generated a subtle challenge inside him to see more.
She stopped at the fence separating them and looked up at the horse for a long moment before meeting his gaze. “Good morning.”
He touched the brim of his hat. “Mornin’.” He looked past her, expecting his son. The boy had taken quite a shine to her the day before. When he’d tucked Ben in last night, it was Hannah this, and Hannah that. He hadn’t thought she would be able to leave the house without the little guy tagging along. Especially after he’d pleaded with her to go for it in the first place.
“Where’s Ben?” he asked.
“He was listless when he got up this morning, and felt a little warm, so I took his temperature. It’s a hundred and one.”
“Do you think it’s anything serious? Should I take him to—”
“Doc Holloway?” she asked, raising one eyebrow. “I actually graduated very near the top of my medical school class. Then I did a double residency in pediatrics and internal medicine. I could get a complex about you guys running to Doc Holloway when an honest-to-goodness doctor is within spitting distance.”
“Sorry. I forgot.” It probably had something to do with the fact that every time he laid eyes on her, he felt like he’d been kicked in the head by his favorite horse. That didn’t exactly help a cowboy put his best boot forward. “Did you check him over?”
She nodded. “I always have my medical bag with me. Ears and throat looked okay. His chest sounded clear. At this point, there’s nothing to treat. Some kids just run a temp when they get run down. Mom knows what to do for the symptoms—rest, meds to control the fever, and lots of fluids. He was keeping a low profile when I left the house.”
“The Texas tornado? That’s a miracle.”
She laughed, showing straight white teeth and a world-class smile. Before he could stop himself, he thought that she should do it more often. His next thought—why should he care if she did?
She stepped up on the first rung of the fence. “Since your son didn’t argue with the diagnosis and treatment, I figure it’s probably what he needs.”
“You’re the doc.”
“You finally remembered.”
He looked down as he shuffled his boots in the dirt. “You make it hard for a man to forget.”
“Sorry. It’s gotten to be a habit I guess, because of my medical training. Speaking of which, Ben was pretty vocal about not wanting to drink so much. I suggested that soda was a good fluid to push. That put a sparkle in his eyes.”
“Pretty smart,” he said. “But you always were.”
“Yeah.”
Her smile dimmed a shade at his remark and he wondered why. “Since Ben’s in good hands with your mom, what do you say you put yourself in mine? In a manner of speaking.”
The porcelain-smooth skin on her cheeks flushed pink. He hadn’t intended that as a double entendre. But now that he thought about it, touching her wouldn’t be too hard to take—if the parts of her that saw daylight were half as soft as the parts of her he’d been imagining that didn’t.
“Have you ever heard the expression ‘like father, like son’?”
He nodded. “Why?”
“Because you’ve got the same gleam in your eyes that I saw in Ben’s. Somehow I don’t think yours has anything to do with soda. So I have to assume it’s role reversal.”
“You lost me,” he said, shaking his head.
“Now you’re the teacher and I’m the student.”
“Ah.” He couldn’t suppress a grin.
She raised one eyebrow. “You wouldn’t hold that against me, would you?”
“You mean that whole dictator thing you had going on in high school?” He shook his head. “It never entered my mind.”
“Then why are you smiling like that?”
“Me?” he said, pointing to his chest. “I’m not grinnin’ like the price of beef went sky-high. I never smile.”
She looked warily at the animal waiting patiently beside him. “I don’t have to get on that horse, you know.”
Dev glanced at the gelding. “You mean Trouble? Why he’s as gentle as they come.”
“Then why is he named Trouble?” she shot back.
He shrugged. “Seemed to fit. He was sickly from the day he was born. Took