Something to Talk About. Joanne Rock

Something to Talk About - Joanne Rock


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stroll across the grass.

      She was being silly.

      Reaching out to him, she slipped her hand into the crook of his arm.

      “Is this part of that legendary Southern hospitality I’ve heard so much about?” She kept her tone light, reminding herself that he probably viewed her as nothing more than a nice older woman. A mother. An employee.

      He held the door for her and they stepped out onto the wide front porch. The stars were popping out as the cooler air greeted them. She pulled her shawl closer and warded off a sudden shiver.

      “Actually, there are plenty of people who would argue that Kentucky isn’t part of either the south or the north.” He slowed his pace as she prepared to step down onto the front walk. “Southerners think this is the north and Northerners consider this the south, so we’re in the unique position of not being claimed by either one.”

      Her heel hitched on a high spot as they stepped out onto the grass and she had no choice but to squeeze his arm to steady herself. Just for a moment.

      Solid muscle lurked beneath his soft chambray work shirt. And yes, she only noticed that as a matter of curiosity. Robbie was a handsome man with a compelling presence and powerful physique—all things that any woman would notice, she hoped.

      Then again, perhaps the cocktail she’d had with Jenna Preston’s friends accounted for a hyper awareness that felt both embarrassing and uncomfortable.

      “Well maybe it’s not a north-south issue, but a Kentucky trait. I’ve been the recipient of amazing kindness since I moved here.” She peered around the lawn looking for her car. There were many more people parked along either side of the driveway than when she’d first arrived.

      “I’m glad to hear that.” Robbie pointed out her compact car parked behind an exotic foreign number. “Is this you over here?”

      “Is it that easy to pick out the hired help’s cars?” She was definitely out of her element here. Although she’d been pleased enough with the outfit she’d pulled together from her closet tonight, she knew a converted bridesmaid’s dress and a bargain warehouse lace shawl didn’t give her the same style points as the women who moved in the racing world. At least she wore the same size she had in college and she favored classic pieces, so she had a few old dresses in her wardrobe.

      The dresses she’d seen on guests tonight had been the kind women ordered off runways or—at the very least—snapped up in tony boutiques.

      Robbie paused to peer down at her in the night now gone almost fully dark.

      “I remembered seeing a car like this with California plates, so I figured it must belong to our only west-coast transplant.” His forehead scrunched and she realized he was disappointed or perhaps upset that she had misinterpreted his words. “And I want you to know that an abundance of money has never been an indicator of anyone’s character in my eyes.”

      His words soothed her even if she didn’t want to admit she’d been a smidge intimidated tonight.

      “Of course.” She nodded quickly, all too aware of his presence beneath the rising luminescent moon. With the cool night air blowing around her skirt hem and brushing her shawl along her arms like a lover’s fingers, she could almost get caught up in a moment she had no business being in. And sweet stars in heaven, what was the matter with her? “I couldn’t help but notice every car but mine cost more than my last house. I hadn’t counted on so much…glamour when I came to work at a Kentucky horse farm. It doesn’t sound like such a sophisticated job on paper, but now that I’m here, I can’t help but see a really different lifestyle than what I’d expected.”

      She released his arm, determined to extricate herself from whatever moonlight madness had taken hold of her tonight. Pulling the shawl tighter around her shoulders, she moved toward the car.

      “Amanda?”

      His voice halted her, the smoky warmth of it sliding down her spine and making her shiver.

      If she didn’t work for him—for his family—she would have damned the consequences of being rude and simply hurried away. She prayed the feelings he stirred up tonight were merely a weird by-product of all the changes in her life, the new faces and places, and being caught up in an evening where she was just a woman and not a mother. Her dress made her feel vulnerable, too aware of herself in a way that her chinos and polo shirts never did.

      And what if this attraction was all one-sided? Maybe she imagined the response she felt in him. For all she knew, he could be silently laughing at her—or be totally shocked—because of their age difference.

      Pausing, she dug for her keys in a tiny evening bag and waited for him to speak, her heels sinking into the soft bluegrass the longer she stood still. Would she sink into this place—this lifestyle—just as surely?

      The Prestons’ home glittered with lights as it sprawled across the lawn behind Robbie, and Amanda suspected it would be all too easy to find new happiness here. If only she didn’t have to worry about bringing trouble with her wherever she went.

      “If you need any help settling in, I wish you’d give me a call.” His dark-blue eyes held hers in the moonlight—and damn it, why did she have to remember his eyes were the exact shade of the Pacific right before a storm blew in?

      Giving into a childish impulse, she squeezed her eyes tight for a moment to break the connection. Or maybe she needed to shut out the dark charm of this charismatic horse trainer who’d already won over her son.

      Wrenching open her lids, she forced herself to smile. Nod. Tug her heels out of the earth so she could back up another step.

      “Thank you, Robbie.” His name felt too personal as she wrapped her lips around the word. “We’re already feeling at home here, but I appreciate that.”

      Fumbling with her keys, she found the right one and inserted it into the lock.

      “Thanks for letting me work with Kiefer on his riding. He’s a great kid.”

      Amanda’s maternal heart glowed with the small stroke of praise even as she hoped he wouldn’t say more. It was bad enough she already felt an uneasy feminine response to this man. If he could appeal to the more fierce side of her—her motherly sensibilities—she’d be toast.

      “It’s me who should be grateful.” One more nod. Smile. She sank into the driver’s seat and lifted a cheery wave. “Goodnight, Robbie.”

      He probably returned the nicety, but Amanda lost herself in a whirlwind of activity inside the car. She shut the door, jangled her keys into place in the ignition and turned the engine over. She had mirrors to check and windows to look out—so long as all her focus was on backing up and not on backing away from Robbie Preston. Only when she was safely out on the driveway and ready to take off did she brave a quick glance at the man who had her wound so tight.

      Sure enough his eyes were on her.

      And just like that a jolt of pure, unadulterated feminine pleasure pulsed through her veins, making her feel more alive than she had in…a long time. Heaven help her.

      Within the next second, she made the decision to stay as far away from Robbie Preston as possible.

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