This Kiss

by Teresa Southwick

  “It would be a shame to waste that first riding lesson.”

  “You mean go through a few minutes of fear and terror without any real payoff, in terms of acquiring any sort of expertise?”

  “Exactly. And practice makes perfect.”

  Her thoughts exactly. She needed to practice spending time with him so she could perfect the art of getting her attraction for him under control. And she was well on her way to a cure, if she did say so herself.

  Then Hannah saw the grin he flashed and her knees nearly buckled. She put a hand on Trouble’s neck to steady herself. Unfortunately, her reaction to him was a glitch in the practice makes perfect philosophy. She was stumbling, mumbling proof that no matter how smart she was, she could still make a fool of herself over a good-looking man.

  And there was even more potential to wind up with egg on her face. Because it was way too late to back out of this ride with any dignity intact.

  “Has anyone ever told you you’re a sadistic man, Dev Hart?”

  “It’s why all the adoring girls follow me around like I’m the Pied Piper of romance. Just look over your shoulder. They’re lurking back there. Thousands of ’em.”

  She knew the flat Texas landscape, occasionally interrupted by rolling hills, would be hard pressed to hide one woman, let alone hordes. He was making fun of her. And, God help her, she couldn’t help being amused. And charmed.

  The corners of her mouth turned up. “You’re a sarcastic man, too. And this just has to be said—it’s not a particularly attractive quality.”

  He held Trouble’s reins in his gloved hand. “I had to cultivate one flaw. We heartthrobs need a protective perimeter. All those women—”

  She held up her hand in surrender. “Okay. Maybe I exaggerated.”

  And maybe she’d missed him. She sighed. There was no maybe about it. This good-natured banter was fun. The fact that he was better looking by far than the average man was a plus. Exhilaration coursed through her and suddenly it was the most beautiful day. The sky was the bluest blue she’d ever seen. The sun was just the right temperature. And all was right with the world. She couldn’t be happier that their schedules had intersected.

  “Maybe you exaggerated?” One of his eyebrows lifted. “You have some kind of phobia about admitting you’re wrong?”

  “I don’t have a lot of practice. It so rarely happens.”

  “It’s a good thing you’re wearing that adjustable baseball hat. If it was a Stetson, the head swelling would cut off the blood flow to your brain. I’m no doctor, but that’s got to be bad.”

  She grinned. “I had to cultivate a flaw, too.”

  “I can’t figure out why you keep bringing the whole women thing up.”

  “You said it yourself. In a word, heartthrob.”

  “I was kidding,” he protested. “Have you seen me with any women? Besides you and Polly, I mean?”

  She thought for a moment. “Actually, yes. I saw you in Destiny with Taylor Stevens.”

  “That was three weeks ago,” he protested.

  “You’ve seen her since then.”

  He frowned. “I have?”

  “There was a picture in the paper—you, Mitch Rafferty and Taylor. In front of her barn. Advertising the rodeo and the upcoming opening of the dude ranch.”

  He nodded. “Yeah. I forgot about that.”

  “Selective memory,” she muttered. Although she couldn’t help being pleased that he’d forgotten.

  He handed her the reins then walked around to his horse’s left side. “Are you going to pick on me all day or are we going to ride?”

  She tapped her index finger against her lips. “Tough decision. Picking on you is tempting—”

  “Hannah—” His voice was laced with mock sternness. But the twinkle in his eyes was a dead giveaway that he was teasing.

  Something else was in the death throes—like her power to resist him. At this moment, she couldn’t find the will to care. Later she would worry about the ground she’d lost. And speaking of losing ground, it was time to get this horseback riding show on the road.

  “Okay. I’m finished stalling.” Already standing on Trouble’s left side, she turned and looked at the worn leather seat of the saddle. She remembered what he’d taught her and muttered, “Everything’s left.”

  Hannah put her foot in the stirrup and leather creaked as she hauled herself a bit awkwardly onto Trouble’s back. Dev mounted his own horse in one graceful, fluid, masculine movement that made her mouth go dry. She swallowed once and worked on getting her right foot in the stirrup. The horse shifted beneath her. Recalling what Dev had said about an animal’s body language warning a rider, she sucked in a breath and grabbed the saddle horn for security.

  “You’re okay, Hannah,” Dev reassured her. “He’s adjusting to the weight of a rider.”

  “Sure,” she agreed. “Makes sense. If someone was sitting on my back, I’d probably notice and have something to say about it.”

  She could say a few thousand words, including this was only her second—make that third time in the saddle. She’d fallen off the first time. The second, Dev had been behind her. At this moment, she missed the feel of his big body close to hers, the security of his solid strength, his arms around her—protective and strong. But it was all about her fear of sitting on a horse and not about needing him. She wouldn’t let herself. He could have any woman he wanted and history had a pesky way of repeating itself. She was still different. It hadn’t been right for them ten years ago, and it still wasn’t.

  As they slowly walked their horses side by side from the corral, she stole a glance at him. He was completely comfortable. Tall in the saddle had never been more three dimensionally clear to her and she couldn’t quite stifle a sigh. So much for getting over her attraction. Exposure was causing more acute symptoms. Why?

  The answer was simple. And she’d already thought about it. She’d missed seeing him and couldn’t resist the chance to spend a little time with him—even in a saddle. Still, she wouldn’t be around much longer, so what harm could it do?

  They rode in silence for a while, leaving the ranch buildings behind them. Dev had briefed her, explaining that Trouble was trained to follow his horse and she didn’t need to worry about guiding him. She soon realized he was right and with that knowledge, she began to relax.

  Hannah stole another glance at Dev, something that rapidly seemed to be turning into a habit. His silhouette and profile couldn’t be more masculine. She admired the strong, attractive line of his jaw and lean angles of his cheekbones. He sat straight in the saddle yet easy, one hand loosely holding the reins, the other palm resting on his muscled thigh. The red earth of Texas, dotted with scrub and mesquite, stretched out before them. Snow-white clouds billowed out against the breathtaking blue sky.

  “It’s so quiet here,” she said, with a gusty sigh. “Serene is the word I’d use.”

  He glanced at her. “I get the feeling it’s not a word you get to use very much.”

  “You’re right about that. L.A. isn’t exactly the first place that comes to mind when you’re looking for peace and tranquility.”

  “Have you ever thought of moving back here?”

  Hannah darted a glance at him and she would have sworn he looked surprised at his own question. “Why would you ask that?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. Stupid question. You’ve been following your dream almost longer than you lived here in Destiny. And no one knows better than I do that you can’t force someone to stay if they don’t want to.”

  “You’re talking about your ex-wife.”

  “Yeah.”

  Hannah studied his broad shoulders, so wide she believed they could withstand whatever fate dumped on him. He carried the burden alone now, raising his son. She respected him so much for that. He was determined to protect the boy—even from her—because she could never be part of his world. So his question about her moving back was nothing more than making conversation. There was no way it coul
d be more.

  “Ben has you, Dev,” she said gently. “He’s going to be fine. Sometimes we don’t get a choice about being raised by two parents.”

  He slid her a look, shadowed beneath the brim of his black hat. “Is that the voice of experience talking?”

  “I already told you—”

  “Yeah, practice it somewhere else, Doc. You’re angry with your father for leaving.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “What you said when we had lunch that day in town. One minute you claimed you didn’t miss him. The next you said you’d walk out the back door if he came in the front. Call me dull as a widow woman’s ax, but my guess is you’re sore as hell at him for walking out.”

  After she got over her surprise that he recalled what she’d said that day, Hannah thought about his comment. “Not mad,” she finally said. “Not anymore. I actually think he did me a favor.”

  “Uh-huh,” he said, his tone skeptical.

  “Did you ever hear the song about the absentee father who named his son Sue? He knew he wasn’t going to be around and wanted the boy to learn how to take care of himself.”

  “Yeah, I think I did.”

  “I feel as if my father named me Hank or Rock or Buck. I didn’t have a daddy to fight my battles. But I did have a high IQ. You accused me of hiding behind it. I choose to think of it as my best asset. It’s gotten me where I am today and I plan to make it continue working for me.”

  “I think you’re blowing smoke, Doc.”

  “Is that so?”

  “There’s another song you might have heard. Everybody needs somebody sometime.”

  “I could remind you of the same thing.”

  “Touché.” He held her gaze for a moment, then turned to look at the trail ahead. “And I need to remind you not to overdo the first time out or your fanny will not thank me.” He glanced at her and the heat still lurking in his gaze made her hot all over. “By the way—”

  “Y-yes?” How she hated that breathless tone she couldn’t control.

  He looked at her feet and pointed a gloved finger in that direction. “Tennis shoes are not very practical for riding a horse. You might want to get a pair of western boots.”

  “Since I’m only going to be here a short time, it seems like a waste of money.”

  The thought made her sad. Then she got mad. How dare he make her sad that she had to go back to the career she’d worked so hard for? Finally she could see the light at the end of the tunnel. Why did that light feel like it was attached to a speeding locomotive?

  She was almost in a position to pay her mother back for being such a burden. When she’d allowed herself to fantasize about this moment, she’d never pictured herself with Dev Hart—or feeling sad.

  “You should be hearing about your job interview pretty soon, right?”

  She nodded. “Any day now. If not, I’ll call.”

  “I’m glad you’re here—for the championships.” Leather creaked as he shifted in the saddle. “I mean since Doc Holloway is gone and all.”

  “I’m happy to be of assistance. Think how bored I’d be otherwise.” She smiled at him.

  One corner of his mouth curved up as he swayed easily in the saddle. “That reminds me. Mitch said the medical trailer is set up. He suggested you check it out. Doc handled ordering the supplies, but you might want to make sure you have everything you need.”

  “That’s a good idea.”

  “We can go there now if you’d like.”

  She shifted in the saddle, her backside starting to feel the effects of the ride. “How far is it? Will my fanny be cursing your name for the next week?”

  He grinned. “Just a holler and a half from here.”

  “Then lead the way,” she agreed. “Trouble will surely follow.”

  Trouble was what she hoped to avoid. Maybe inventorying medical supplies would give her something else to think about besides a captivating cowboy and how he was well on his way to capturing her heart.

  A short time later, they were standing in the medical trailer set up behind the portable grandstands trucked in for the championships. Dev watched Hannah ready swabs, gauze and disposable gloves on the tiny counter in the small space. She studied it critically, then rearranged everything.

  He didn’t think the positioning could be all that important. “You’re as jumpy as spit on a hot skillet.”

  Bent at the waist to peek into the cupboard beneath the counter, she turned her head and met his gaze. “Tell me Dr. Dev, would you care to share with me the symptoms that caused you to come up with that diagnosis?”

  “Happy to oblige, ma’am,” he said, turning sideways in the trailer’s doorway to rest his back against the frame. “You’ve moved that stuff around five or six times. Now I could be off by a whisker or two, but I’d have to say there’s not enough room in here to cuss the cat without gettin’ a mouthful of fur. I’d say pretty much everything is at your fingertips. Why are you fretting about where it all goes? You’re not worried about this, are you?”

  “Of course not.” She shook her head, but the shadows in her eyes didn’t go away.

  “Talk to me, Hannah.”

  She rested a hand on the countertop. “There’s nothing to say. It looks like all the basic supplies are here. I’m just used to the diagnostic equipment provided in a hospital setting. But I can practice kamikaze medicine if I have to.”

  “We’ve got a rescue helicopter standing by if it’s necessary to transport someone.”

  “I know.” She walked four steps to the end of the trailer then turned and came back. The movement of the floor seemed to make her more uptight with each step.

  “What is it, Hannah?” He blocked her path as she tried to pass him again. Then he put his hands on her shoulders. Looking into big, bothered, blue eyes, he said, “And please don’t insult my intelligence by telling me nothing. Something’s got you chute crazy.”

  One corner of her mouth curved up. “Chute crazy?”

  “Stockman’s term. Cattle get nervous about entering a narrow branding or loading chute. Is it the trailer? Do you have claustrophobia?”

  She met his gaze for several moments and he thought she was going to ignore his observation. Then she let out a long breath and stepped away, crossing her arms over her chest and curving her fingers around her upper arms.

  “It is the trailer, but not because it’s small. It just brings back memories.” Her gaze flicked into every cluttered corner.

  “Bad memories?” he asked gently, encouraging her to talk.

  The shadows in her eyes increased as she studied the dreary interior before looking back at him. “The only permanent home I ever had was on wheels—like this. And my mother worked fourteen-hour days to make sure we had that.”

  “So you are angry with your father,” he commented.

  She shook her head. “No. I’m mad at myself. He left because of me.”

  “Whoa. You were just a little girl. What could you possibly have done to chase him off?”

  She stared at him, her eyes haunted. “Remember when I told you about falling off a horse?”

  “Yeah, but I don’t see how—”

  “I broke my arm.”

  He took his hat off and ran a hand through his hair. “Well that explains a whole lot. For starters, why riding a horse is bottom of your to-do list.”

  “It’s more than that, Dev. There were doctor visits, medical expenses. The good news is that’s when I first thought about becoming a doctor. The bad—it drove my father away.”

  “Come on, Hannah—”

  “It’s true. One minute he was there. The next, bills started rolling in and he was gone. I was too much trouble.”

  “Kids aren’t a burden. They’re a responsibility that comes out of love,” he said, gentling his tone at the stark vulnerability he saw in her face.

  “Not in my case. And I didn’t miss him all that much. I was telling you the truth about that,” she said defensively. She sighed and
turned away to fiddle with the box of cotton balls. “But his leaving put an awfully heavy burden on my mother.”

  “It’s not your fault, Hannah.”

  “I know—”

  “Don’t blow me off. It doesn’t take a master’s degree in psychology to figure you out. You blame yourself for what that lowlife creep did. You had an accident and he walked out when you and your mom needed him the most. You were a child. He was the adult who let you down.”

  “I understand that.”

  “Intellectually, probably. Emotionally—that’s a different story.”

  “Who died and made you resident shrink?” she asked, trying to joke.

  “I’ll be the first to admit that Psychology 101 in college didn’t give me impressive credentials. But it doesn’t take a mental giant to see what’s going on with you.”

  “And that would be?”

  “You’re living in the past. Ten years ago, on top of your astronomical IQ, you felt different because you didn’t have a dad. So you isolated yourself.”

  “And you think I’m still doing that?”

  He noticed that she didn’t deny it. “If the horse sticks his hoof out, the blacksmith will nail a horseshoe to it.”

  “I know you’re a rancher, but that one was weird even for you.” She stared at him for a moment and he could tell she was struggling not to smile. “What does that mean?”

  “Just that it’s obvious you’re still standing apart—by choice.”

  “I can’t deny my past shaped me. So did yours,” she pointed out. “But every day I’m grateful for where my brains got me. Each experience I’ve had has made me the strong, capable woman I am today.”

  “I don’t dispute that—”

  She held up her hand. “Hear me out. I’m on the brink of getting everything I’ve worked for. As soon as I get that job, I’ll have the money I need to give my mother the life she deserves. A house of her own in California—with a permanent foundation on the ground. No wheels. She won’t have to work.”

  “Your mom might have something to say about that. She’s a part of the community and she’s got friends here.” He stopped short of telling her about what he suspected between Polly and Doc Holloway. It wasn’t his job to tell her about her mother’s love life.