A Stallion's Touch. Deborah Mello Fletcher
and smiled. The lift of his full lips dimpled his cheeks. “So, is there a trick to this that I’m not getting?” he asked, leaning his body forward for better balance.
She chuckled. “You need a little more cushion back there. It helps.”
He nodded. “No wonder you look so comfortable.”
“Excuse me?”
He grinned. “It was a compliment. I was just pointing out that you have a very nice rear view. Full...and round.”
There was a moment’s pause as her gaze locked with his. Her eyes narrowed substantially. “Why are you looking at my ass?”
“In all fairness, I wouldn’t have looked at all if the girls hadn’t pointed out that you had a big butt.” He laughed. “Irene thought I needed to be aware. She also said you have a big head, big feet and teeth that look goofy.” He shot her a look. “Her words, not mine!”
Tarah looked out to the horizon, then shifted her gaze back out to the pasture. “I swear those two are so lucky they’re short!”
“If it makes a difference,” he said smugly, “they love your hair.” He then reached out and brushed a curly strand from her eye. The gesture surprised her, causing the air to catch in her chest as she suddenly held her breath. “And you always smell really good!”
“They said I smell good?”
“No, I threw that in,” he said, grinning broadly. “Like vanilla and lavender with a hint of honey. You smell like a woman is supposed to smell. Special! I was trying to help you out.”
Tarah laughed, amusement dancing over her face, but she didn’t bother to reply to his comment.
“You still didn’t tell me what was so funny,” he said. “What were you laughing about when I came up?”
“Collin named his horse Baby.”
Confusion pulled at Nicholas’s expression. “And that’s funny because...?”
“When his mother was pregnant with Jacoby, he really wasn’t happy about getting a baby brother or sister. He only wanted a horse. Then when little Jake was born and he held him for the first time, he said the baby was okay but he still would rather have had a horse named Baby instead. It was all he would talk about for months!”
“Cute,” Nicholas said, nodding his head slightly as his stare shifted to where his cousin’s son and the horse were moving in perfect sync with each other.
A blanket of quiet dropped over the two, the moment suddenly awkward. Nervous energy fired hot between them, feeling like a circuit board gone awry.
Tarah allowed a good few minutes to pass before she cast a quick glance in his direction. She was surprised to find him staring at her. He chuckled softly, color tinting his cheeks at being caught.
“Sorry! I didn’t mean to stare, but you’re just so beautiful!”
Tarah felt herself blush, the red in her own cheeks mirroring the crimson tint across his chiseled cheekbones. “Thank you,” she murmured, suddenly feeling out of sorts. She couldn’t help but wonder where her caustic attitude and the one-line zingers she was infamous for had disappeared to. For whatever reason, she couldn’t think of anything witty to say.
She was no stranger to men commenting on her looks. Rarely did a man take a moment to know her long enough to comment on her intelligence before he was jumping at the opportunity to tell her how attractive she was. It usually struck a nerve, but there was nothing condescending, or lecherous, in Nicholas’s delivery. Surprisingly flattered, she had no words.
He shifted awkwardly, still unable to make himself comfortable against the narrow rail. Amusement danced in her eyes as she watched him, and he suddenly felt as if an explanation was necessary. “Years of getting hit on the football field keep me in pain. My back and legs just aren’t working with me today. I think I need a little more than some backside cushion. I’m thinking a recliner would be ideal right about now.”
“Football is a rough sport, but I understand how you feel. I’m on my feet all day, every day, so even when I get a chance to rest them, they still ache.”
He smiled warmly. “All the doctors I know have massive hands that look like they should be pulling tobacco in some field somewhere. You have the most delicate hands,” he said.
She laughed, wiggling her fingers out in front of her. “I have a surgeon’s hands. They may be small but they’re steady.”
“So, you really like cutting into people’s flesh?”
“I love saving people’s lives, curing their illnesses and helping them achieve a better quality of life.”
He nodded his head. The look he gave her was endearing. “You’re something special, Tarah Boudreaux!”
“And don’t you ever forget it, Nicholas Stallion!”
He laughed, continuing to ask her questions about school and the hospital and other things that meant the world to her. The rest of their conversation was warm and comfortable, an easy exchange as they became better acquainted. He explained the nuances of football, described his predilection for extremely spicy foods and shared that he secretly enjoyed watching reality television.
Nicholas suddenly jumped down from his perch, his hands brushing away the dust against the back of his khaki pants. “It really has been a pleasure talking to you, Tarah. But I think it’s time I sneak back down to the house.” He pointed across the yard.
Turning to where he stared, Tarah saw Irene and Gabi searching him out, the two little girls making a mad dash across the fields.
Nicholas gave her a wink, and then he tore off in the opposite direction. By the time the two youngsters reached where Tarah was sitting, he had disappeared into the rose gardens. All Tarah could do was laugh.
* * *
Saying goodbye was bittersweet. Tarah wished she had another two weeks to spend with her family, but she had to report back to work the next morning. Having time off for Christmas meant she was definitely on call for New Year’s. Despite the good time she’d had, she was just as excited about getting back to the hospital.
She sighed as she dragged her suitcase to the front foyer. She turned toward the family room just as Nicholas bounded down the double staircase. His eyes widened at the sight of her.
“Oh, Tarah, hey! Are you leaving?”
Tarah nodded, a slight smile pulling at her mouth. “I am. Vacation is officially over.”
He came to a stop in front of her. “I really had a good time getting to know you. I hope you’ll stay in touch.”
Tarah laughed. “I guess that means you want me to call you.”
A smirk crossed Nicholas’s face. “Or I could call you?”
“You could.” She reached into the backpack thrown over her shoulder, searching until she found a black ink pen. She reached for his hand, pulling it toward her. She met his bemused stare as she wrote her name and number into his palm. She then closed the cap on her pen, dropped it back into her bag and continued toward the family room, Nicholas following closely on her heels. Just as she reached the doorway, he called her name and grabbed her arm. Although there was nothing aggressive about the gesture, it clearly showed his determination.
Tarah bristled slightly. “Excuse you?” Her eyes darted from his fingers clasped around her forearm to his face and back to his fingers.
He snatched his hand away as if he’d burned it. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to say...well...” His eyes skated about erratically as he tried to find the words to voice the thoughts suddenly racing through his head.
Tarah shifted her weight from one hip to the other, resting one hand against the curve of her waist. She eyed him with a raised brow, her look questioning.
Nicholas