Kyle

by Jennifer Ashley

  “They called me to examine a cat they’d found. Poor thing was hungry and needed worming and a flea bath, but she’s fine now.” Anna shrugged. “You get to know people when you treat their animals.”

  “Looks like Ray is getting to know her too,” Christina said with interest.

  “Hi!” Emma yelled across the room, wildly waving her tiny hand.

  Ray glanced their way, then stiffened. He nodded in acknowledgement but turned his back to sit down with Drew and her daughter in a booth on the far end of the diner.

  “Huh,” Christina said. “I guess he didn’t want to interrupt your date. But I feel a need to be nosy coming over me. See you guys.”

  “Bye!” Emma called over her mother’s shoulder, her fingers clenching and unclenching as Christina strode off across the diner toward Ray and company.

  Anna turned back to Kyle. “You really didn’t know anything about Drew?”

  “Nope.” Kyle picked up the last of his now-cool burger. “Ray’s been keeping this a deep, dark secret.”

  Across the room, Ray looked uncomfortable as Christina stopped by their table and Emma did her hollered greeting. Drew’s daughter grinned at Emma in delight, and Drew brightened, but Ray sat there like a glowering lump.

  “I am so giving him hell for this.” Kyle’s spirits lifted and he chuckled. “Now, for our argument. This isn’t our date, Anna. You’re not getting out of it that easy.”

  Anna’s face lost color. “I am eating in public with you, by ourselves. That’s a date.”

  “Not if we pay for our own meals. Then it’s just two friends having a bite at the diner.”

  “You rented a car, put on a suit, and are driving me around,” Anna pointed out.

  “Started that way.” Kyle downed the last of his burger and took a big slurp of iced tea. “But didn’t end up that way. We were interrupted, so we have to try again. Unless the idea of talking to me over a table one more time is that bad for you.”

  Kyle spoke lightly, but his heart beat faster. Would she laugh at him and say no way in hell?

  This was a date, and Kyle knew it. It counted. But if Kyle conceded, then he might never get to go out with her again. Obligating her to fulfill the bet meant he wouldn’t have to summon the courage to ask her out and then cringe when she turned him down.

  “I’ll think about it,” Anna said. “Though I don’t mind paying for my own burger tonight. This is good.”

  “I was kidding about that,” Kyle said quickly. “I got this.”

  Anna’s eyes glinted as she licked her fingers. “Then this is our date.”

  “Damn it.” Kyle glowered. “If I let you pay, no one in this diner will let me live it down.”

  “Just explain we’re not on a date. We’re sharing a meal, as friends.”

  “It’s an old-fashioned town. They expect the guy to pick up the check, no matter what.”

  “No they won’t. Friends eat together even in old-fashioned towns.”

  Kyle sat back. “I’m not going to win this one, am I?”

  “Nope.”

  There was something else in Anna’s eyes, a slight worry he couldn’t place. Maybe because another old-fashioned idea said that if a woman had her meal paid for she had to put out?

  Plenty of guys he knew still thought that way. Kyle never had, but then he’d not had to worry about coercing women to be with him. Girls had jumped his bones, whether he bought them meals or not.

  But Anna had been so shy. He didn’t know what her life had been like when she’d left Riverbend—had she run into guys who’d tried to enforce the put-out rule after they’d bought her dinner?

  Kyle’s anger boiled up. He was suddenly furious at the men she’d gone out with, whoever they were.

  “You know what?” he said. “You’re right. This is just two friends meeting up at the diner to eat some good burgers. We split the check, and the town can suck it.”

  Anna’s smile returned, the look in her eyes changing to gratitude. “Deal.”

  “But you still owe me a date.”

  “Maybe.” Anna sat back, dabbing her mouth with her napkin. “Like I said, I’ll think about it.”

  She might take a couple years to do the thinking. Well, Kyle would simply have to remind her about it whenever he could.

  Or, call her out to the ranch every time one of their animals so much as shed a hair. He’d keep her number at the top of his contacts, just in case.

  They split the check, earning a flick of eyebrows from the waitress and a keen look from Mrs. Ward at the cash register. Even their mud-stained semi-formal clothes didn’t generate as much shock as Anna paying for her own meal, Anna realized. Kyle had been right about that.

  Kyle walked Anna to the car and gallantly opened the passenger door for her. He moved to the driver’s side and slid in, nodding through the window at more townsfolk who’d stopped to ogle them.

  There was Hal Jenkins, who’d helped Anna suit up as a rodeo clown and get into the ring the day Kyle had fallen. With him was Jack Hillman, a biker and one of the town’s bad boys. Jack openly stared at Kyle and then Anna beside him in astonishment.

  Kyle started the car, which hummed, and pulled sedately out.

  Once they hit the street, Kyle and Anna burst out laughing.

  “Told you,” Kyle said. “Shit, did you see their faces?”

  “Biggest shock they’ve had since Texas stopped being a republic.”

  “I was going to say since Riverbend got an enforced speed limit,” Kyle returned. “But yours is better. What was the biggest surprise, you think? That I didn’t pick up the tab or that I didn’t drink any beer?”

  “I think it was you in a suit,” Anna said. “Or me in a dress.”

  “Honey, seeing you in that dress only floored them in a good way.”

  Anna warmed. She wasn’t supposed to like it when a guy told her she looked fine, but from growly Kyle, who could have any woman he snapped his fingers for, the compliment sank deep.

  “Aw,” she said lightly. “That’s almost sweet.”

  “More than sweet.” Kyle turned a corner and then pulled the car to a curb. “Well, this is you.”

  The disadvantage to a meal at the diner was that Anna’s house lay only a block away. She could have walked home, but she hadn’t had the heart to stroll away from Kyle, leaving him alone in the big fancy car.

  Also, if she’d walked, every other woman in the diner might have rushed to Kyle and begged him to drive her home. Maybe there was some of that in Anna’s decision too.

  Mrs. Kaye’s house next door was dark—she liked to be in bed by ten.

  Anna hopped out as soon as Kyle stopped, but he turned off the engine, slid out, and escorted her to the porch. Anna, in her pre-date nervousness, had forgotten to turn on the porch light before she left, and now they stood in shadows.

  A lump formed in Anna’s throat. “Night didn’t turn out like we thought.”

  Kyle gave her a slow nod. “True. Though it was a hell of a lot more exciting than most of my dates.”

  Anna wasn’t sure how to take that. “I thought we agreed it wasn’t a date.”

  “We did. It’s not.”

  They paused, staring at each other.

  Would he try to kiss her? If so, then she could claim this as their date and be off the hook.

  Why did that disappoint her so much? When Kyle had said they’d have a date do-over, Anna had pretended to argue but hadn’t blatantly turned him down. The idea of going out with him again, in truth and not just to fulfill a bet, did weird things to her heart.

  Or did Kyle expect more tonight? They were at her house, and Anna lived alone. It was dark, and no one would notice him glide inside with her.

  He might peel off what was left of her dress with his work-roughened hands, skim his touch down her arms, her breasts, her thighs.

  Anna started to shake. She imagined sliding her hands under his coat, unbuttoning his shirt to find the warmth of his chest and the thump of his heart.<
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  That wasn’t the only thing she wanted to feel. She pictured unbuckling and unzipping his pants, delving in to discover how big he really was. The idea of him in her hands made her blood hot, her knees weak.

  Kyle cleared his throat, and Anna jumped, breathless from the vivid fantasy.

  “Okay then,” he said. “Good night.”

  Kyle started to turn away. To go.

  Anna grabbed the lapels of his coat, dragged him against her, and kissed him hard on the mouth.

  It wasn’t the best kiss ever. Anna missed part of his lips and landed on his cheek, the rough of his whiskers against her tongue.

  Kyle laughed softly, his breath hot. He steadied her with hard hands on her arms and repositioned the kiss.

  His mouth was slow, leisurely. He brushed her lips, darting inside with his tongue, soft and sweet, not intrusive.

  Kyle was an excellent kisser. He knew how to tease her mouth open but not too aggressively, how to feather kisses across her lips, how to pull her close but not crush her against him.

  Anna gripped Kyle’s arms, finding hard muscle under his suit, a living man hot and strong. His kiss opened something inside her, a place of longing she’d never touched, never investigated.

  Kyle Malory, the man she’d thought embodied the worst in the male of the species, stood on her dark porch and soothed her heart, warmed her body, and kissed her like she was the most special woman in Riverbend.

  He was taller than Anna but he leaned to her expertly, not letting her feel they were mismatched. Anna fit well against him, the largeness of him never overwhelming her.

  She let herself live the imagined pleasure of sliding her hands inside his coat, fingers landing on the thin shirt over his ribs.

  Kyle sucked in a breath and broke the kiss, his grip tightening on her arms.

  “Damn,” he said. “Keep forgetting I got hurt.”

  “Sorry.” Anna quickly let go of him, though she did not step back. “You’re still healing.”

  “Yeah, it’s a bitch.” Kyle brushed another hot-as-hell kiss over her lips then let out a sigh. “Oh, well. Good night, Anna.”

  He released her but didn’t move. He gazed at her as time stretched, then he smoothed back a lock of her hair. His touch was warm, gentle, but his fingers shook a little, as though he held himself back.

  Whenever he didn’t hold back, what would it be like? Anna went fiery hot, imagining even the slightest bit.

  Kyle brushed his knuckle over her cheek and then turned with a show of reluctance and made his slow way down the porch’s two steps.

  “Good night,” Anna called softly after him.

  Kyle lifted his hand, gave her a nod and a smile and made for the car.

  He waited until Anna had dug her keys out of her cavernous purse and walked safely into the house before he drove away, headlights slicing across her neighbors’ yards. Anna watched him from the living room window, dropping the curtain only after his taillights disappeared around the corner.

  All her strength deserted her, and she flopped to the sofa, not bothering with the lights. A weight landed on her chest, which settled itself and purred.

  “Hey there,” Anna scratched Patches behind the ears. She touched her lips, which still tingled from Kyle’s intense and amazing kisses, and shivered. “Wow. I don’t think I’ll be sleeping much tonight.”

  Anna woke in the morning in her bed, but she’d been right about the nearly sleepless night.

  She’d dragged herself into the bedroom, stripped off the dress, and crawled under the sheets, but every single second of darkness was filled with thoughts of Kyle. She relived again and again the moments he’d loomed over her on the dark porch, his laughter warming as he kissed her.

  He’d changed her awkward kiss into something amazing, fun, enchanting. Kyle’s lazy smile had turned her inside out.

  Every touch, every nuance, replayed itself for the rest of the night, making Anna groggy when her phone rang at six in the morning. She crawled out of hazy dreams of Kyle and his touch and reached for the phone.

  “Anna speaking,” she said, trying to be polite. She was a vet, the only one around, on-call all the time.

  “Hey, Dr. Anna, this is Jarrod Haynes. I think we need to talk.”

  Chapter Eight

  Anna came wide awake and sat up, dislodging Patches who glared at her and stomped to the bottom of the bed.

  “What’s up?” Anna managed to say to Jarrod.

  She remembered the pickup charging around them on the dark road, Kyle growling that it was the Haynes boys and they were assholes. Then Sherrie’s truck, the overturned horse trailer, the terrified screams of the horse trapped within.

  Had Jarrod recognized Anna and Kyle in the car and realized they would have figured it out? Was he calling to threaten her, to find out what she’d seen?

  Anna’s worry evaporated in a rush of anger. If one of the Hayneses had caused the accident, they needed to take responsibility. She wasn’t going to shy away from that.

  “Yes?” she prompted when Jarrod didn’t answer right away.

  “We got some steers with the scours. Can you come check them out? Give them a jab so we can turn them out again?”

  The scours was another way of saying the cattle had diarrhea. That could be caused by too-wet pastures or dirty feeding areas and overcrowding—cattle infected each other with bacteria. Could be a minor thing easily treated or an entire herd depressed, stressed, and ill.

  “What?” Anna shook herself into professional mode. “Oh. Yeah, sure.”

  “Did I wake you up?” Jarrod sounded almost contrite. Almost. “Sorry. I know it’s early, but Virgil wants them back on the range, so he threw it to me to call you. My brother’s a butthead.”

  Anna had been woken far earlier to help horses foal, save dogs and cats, or treat an ailing dairy cow at milking time. Six a.m. was nothing.

  “It’s fine,” she said. “I’ll be out. You’re my first call.”

  “Thanks, Dr. Anna. I owe you.”

  He hung up. Nothing sinister in his voice, just annoyance at his brother.

  Anna got herself out of bed, started her coffee brewer, and stepped into a hot shower. It was her job to make sure River County’s livestock and pets were well taken care of. Whether she liked their owners or not was a secondary concern.

  She dressed in boots and jeans, glancing with regret at the muddy and torn dress she’d tossed on her chair. It was beyond repair.

  Anna bolted out the door moments later, stopping only to fill her travel mug with freshly made coffee.

  The old Morgan place, which the Haynes brothers had taken over, lay on a stretch of highway west of Riverbend. This was the edge of River County, where the land started to flatten and the river narrow.

  She bumped through the gate to the ranch and down the long, unpaved drive. A one-story house lay to the right, surrounded by mesquite for summer shade. The barn and ranch office were behind the house another dusty half mile.

  As Anna had told Kyle, when she visited the Haynes place she usually dealt with the ranch manager, but as she parked her truck and slid out, the lanky man was nowhere in sight.

  Half a dozen or so steers lingered in a small muddy corral near the ramshackle barn. At least they’d rounded up the sick ones and separated them, instead of expecting Anna to go out on the range and run them down herself. That happened sometimes.

  Of course, these steers were simply roaming around the pen. She saw no squeeze chute, where each animal could be isolated so she could examine it and medicate it without danger to herself.

  “Dr. Anna.” Jarrod Haynes slouched toward her from the ranch office, hands in his jeans pockets. He wasn’t a bad-looking young man, in his early thirties, with brown eyes and sandy blond hair. He hadn’t shaved in a couple days, and possibly hadn’t changed his shirt since then either.

  “Morning,” Anna responded as she dragged her heavy medical kit from the bed of her truck. “Where’s your manager?”

&n
bsp; Jarrod looked around as though surprised, then he rubbed his stubbly chin. “Oh, we canned him. Virgil did, anyway. Said we were paying him too much to do what we could do. Like I said, Virgil is a butthole.”

  Anna’s irritation at the brothers rose. It wasn’t like a ranch manager could just turn around and find another job at the same level. Most ranches couldn’t pay a lot in any case. The man might have to move out of the county just to make ends meet.

  “These are the steers?” she asked in a neutral voice.

  “Yep. Don’t really know what’s wrong with them.”

  “Then I’d better take a look.”

  Jarrod followed Anna closely as she approached the corral. The steers saw her coming, sensed “vet,” and shuffled to the far side.

  Anna slid the bolt back on the corral’s gate, noting that the metal poles were rusty. There was a reason she wore gloves when she worked and made sure her tetanus shot was up to date.

  Jarrod hung back, planting himself next to the gate as she entered the corral. He wasn’t about to follow her.

  Fine with Anna. She closed and latched the gate and approached the steers, making sure her medical bag didn’t clink and spook them.

  The cattle looked pathetic. When animals were ill, they took on the most dejected, heart-breaking expressions. Eight steers stood in this corral, hooves deep in mud, watching Anna with lack-luster eyes.

  No mucus running from noses, though, no open sores that she could see. She approached the smallest one, moving quietly and standing still a while until it decided she wasn’t a threat, then she scratched it between the ears.

  Another raised its tail and let out a stinky stream. Anna held her breath, the back of her gloved hand to her nose.

  “It’s scours all right,” she said to Jarrod. “Can happen when they’re in wet pasture. I’ll dose them, but you need to keep them separated for a week or so, so they don’t pass the infection to the others. They need to be in a drier corral, and you’ll have to clean their feed bins so they don’t accidentally eat the infected feces.”