The Horse Trainer's Secret

by ALLISON LEIGH,

  “Mmm.” She did, but the map didn’t hold a lot of interest. Nick, on the other hand...

  His nails were short. Clean. But his thumb was nicked with several shallow cuts already on their way to being healed. And she knew, without having to look, that his palms were calloused.

  Her skin was practically prickling from the memory of his hands running over her bare flesh.

  “—Lazy-B,” he said, still sliding the map this way and that, as her mind had wandered.

  “Who?”

  “The Lazy-B. Lucy’s folks’ spread. And this is Crossing West—” he scrolled left on the map and enlarged it “—which I believe we left close to an hour ago.”

  “Are we on Bureau of Land Management land?”

  “Possibly. Braden’s that way.” He squinted into the distance as if envisioning Weaver’s sister town. “Lot of public land between here and there.”

  “Why are you so interested?”

  He pressed a key, making the screen on his phone go dark, then slid it into the front pocket of his slouchy cargo shorts.

  Megan quickly yanked her gaze upward, only to get lost in his hypnotic gray eyes.

  So hypnotic that she didn’t offer up even a half-hearted protest when he suddenly slid his arm behind her waist and dragged her close. Right up against those cargo shorts. That hard, ridged abdomen. That spread of warm, sun-kissed chest.

  “I’ll tell you.” His voice was deep. Soft. “After you tell me why you were so pissed off with me.”

  She was suddenly, exquisitely aware of just how alone they were. Not a soul for miles and miles, except two horses more interested in the wildflowers than anything else.

  Tell him. Just tell him the truth. When he learns you’re pregnant, he’ll hit the trail so fast you won’t have to worry about whether or not you’re falling for the guy.

  His fingers were slowly gliding up her spine. Beneath her shirt.

  “Nick—”

  He lowered his head. “Yeah?”

  “This isn’t a good—” She broke off when his lips grazed over hers and heat streaked through her veins. She pressed her hands to his chest, vaguely surprised to realize she’d dropped one of the leather reins. The other was twisted around two of her fingers.

  Rambo didn’t seem troubled. The rein still had plenty of slack on his end. If anything, he looked bored.

  Nick’s lips were moving distractingly along her jaw. Roving over her neck, making her forget anything and everything.

  “D’you know how many nights I spent in Gillette thinking about you?” His words tickled her ear. “The feel of you?” His hand moved back down her spine, sliding over her rump. Her hip. “The taste of you?”

  His hand moved up to her breasts, which were aching for his attention. He tugged on her shirt, and the snaps popped open.

  “How many times I woke up hard, wanting nothing more than this...” He dragged the stretchy knit below one nipple and then the other until they sprang free, tight and hard and so sensitive that when he leaned down to take one in his mouth, she nearly came right then and there.

  “And this.” His voice deepened even more as he ran his hand straight down, sensations shooting through her when he cupped her through her jeans.

  She jerked and spun around, intent on escaping what she didn’t really want to escape. And when his hands followed her and he pressed himself hard against her rear, she leaned back against him. His mouth found the nape of her neck. Then the point just below her ear that sent ripples streaking down her spine.

  “Undo your jeans,” he whispered.

  She gasped. “You first.”

  He laughed softly. And did as he was told.

  She quickly followed his lead.

  When his hand slid down into her panties and beyond, she didn’t care if one of Rambo’s reins was tangled around her wrist. Didn’t care if it was late in the afternoon and they ought to be getting back soon.

  She didn’t care about anything except Nick’s fingers, petting, swirling, delving, and then the hard press of his leg between hers before he filled her, tighter than ever, thanks to their positions and the fact that her jeans were caught around her thighs.

  His breath turned rough against her ear... He was panting, praising, urging—

  She cried out, straining back against him, holding his hands to her as the pleasure screamed through her, going on and on and on. And when his hands tightened even further, she felt the pulse of him right through to her very soul.

  Chapter Twelve

  Eventually, they managed to untangle themselves from each other, as well as Rambo’s rein, which was still looped around Megan’s wrist.

  “Good thing he’s a patient soul,” Nick said. “And that one—” he gestured at Latitude, who’d taken to rolling around in the wildflowers “—is a romantic.”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  Nick wasn’t sure he had a solid bone left in him, but he forced himself to stay upright as he eyed Megan’s bowed head.

  “Something wrong?”

  Her thick blond hair swept her shoulders as she shook her head vehemently.

  “Megan—” He cupped her shoulder. Squeezed lightly.

  She raised her head and gave him a look that was uniquely hers. Full of nerve. Bravado. But layered with a streak of softness that he had already decided was a mile wide.

  Not that he intended on pointing that out just now when she’d taken the stuffing out of him and his defenses were low.

  “You ripped my panties,” she said and pulled the thin white fabric right out from her loosened jeans.

  He laughed. “Sweetheart, I’ll buy you a dozen pairs to replace ’em.”

  She pitched them at his head. “I’ll buy my own, thanks.”

  He caught them and shoved them down into one of his many pockets as he watched her start to zip up her pants. When she noticed him watching, color flagged her cheeks and she turned her back on him.

  He grinned. “Now I’m just going to be thinking about you going commando.”

  “Oh, my god,” she muttered, yanking her shirt down over her hips. “Cool your jets, would you?”

  He grabbed her waist and swung her around to face him, loving the way her eyes went wide and color filled her cheeks. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

  Her lips thinned and she looked away. “Cut it out. And get Lat out of the weeds. God only knows how many burrs he’s picking up.”

  He caught her face in his hands and pressed a kiss to her lips. Then another. By the third, she was swaying slightly, a dazed look in her eyes.

  Satisfied, he whistled, and the horse immediately rolled to his feet, dancing around like the big puppy that he really was. Nick caught the loose reins and thanked his lucky stars for the horse’s goofy nature because J.D. would have strung and quartered him if her beloved Latitude had truly gotten loose.

  “Don’t see any burrs but he did find a good patch of mud.” He unsaddled the horse, shook out the saddle pad, wiped off the mud with his shirt and resaddled him. “You’re gonna need a shower for sure, aren’t you, bud?”

  “Aren’t we all,” Megan muttered. She circled around Nick and the horse, giving them both a critical eye.

  Then she swung up into her own saddle and turned back in the direction of Crossing West. “Let’s just hope everyone’s left for the afternoon by the time we get back.”

  Nick shared the sentiment. He was satisfied with life in Weaver, but that didn’t mean it was all that convenient always being surrounded by people getting in your business.

  Fortunately, when they plodded past the newly framed house being built for Nick’s grandfather, the work crew was gone.

  And there wasn’t anyone left in the pens with the horses except for J.D., who just sketched a wave in acknowledgment as they passed.

  The sun was sinking toward the ho
rizon by the time they finished cleaning the horses and the tack.

  “Come back to my place,” he said, when Megan climbed behind the wheel of her truck.

  She shook her head and stuck the key in the ignition.

  He reached into the truck and covered her hand to keep her from turning it. “Why?”

  She looked as if she was hunting for a smart remark. But in the end, she just exhaled. “Because it’s been a long day and I’m tired.”

  He let go of her hand, but only to cup her cheek.

  Her lashes fluttered and for a moment she seemed to lean into his palm. Before she had a chance to realize it, he stuck his head through the window and kissed her gently. Knowing better than to push too hard, he pulled away, but not before he’d pressed a slow kiss to her forehead, too.

  When he pulled back, her eyes were wide and so full of something that it made him hurt inside. “At least give me a call or send a text so I’ll know you got to the Cozy Night okay.”

  Looking choked up, she nodded and turned the key.

  He shoved his hands into his pockets as he watched her drive away.

  “Want to come in for supper?” J.D. stopped next to him.

  He started to shake his head. What he was starving for wasn’t going to be found at her dinner table. But the phone suddenly vibrating in his pocket made him nod instead. “Thanks.” He pulled out the phone, ignored the notification that Delia was calling and opened up the GPS map. “I want to talk to you and Jake about the land heading north up the ravine. Ten, twelve miles or so.”

  He was pretty sure he’d found the perfect location to build his home.

  How difficult it might be to acquire the land remained to be seen.

  But the real challenge, he knew, was going to be convincing Megan that she belonged there with him.

  * * *

  By the time Megan let herself into her motel room, she’d at least managed to stop shaking.

  The tears, though?

  They kept burning behind her eyes no matter how many times she thought she’d beat them back.

  She locked her door, yanked off her clothes and kicked them to a corner.

  She’d never be able to wear any of them again without thinking about Nick and what they’d done out in that wildflower meadow.

  She stood under the shower until the hot water ran out. And then she still stood there until her skin felt shriveled and cold.

  She dried off in front of the mirror, turning this way and that. Studying her reflection. Wondering how she could be so inwardly changed yet not show it at all outwardly. She flattened her palms over her belly.

  Was there a slight swell?

  The bruise on her leg from Burrito had long faded. But she still sensed fingerprints on her hip. Nick’s fingerprints.

  Her nipples pebbled and she covered them with her hands.

  The shrill ringing of the room’s telephone made her jump. She whipped the thin towel around herself as she circled her bed to stare at the thing sitting on her nightstand. The phone looked as old as the one that Birdie had.

  Not once in all the time that Megan had been at the Cozy Night had she ever used it.

  She gingerly lifted the receiver. “Hello?”

  “Finally!” Rory’s voice sounded loud and Megan held the phone out a little. “I was starting to get the feeling you’ve been avoiding me!”

  Megan sank down on the bed. The bed. She hopped up again and switched to the other one. She couldn’t go far. The coiled phone cord made sure of that. “I haven’t been avoiding you. You’re the one globe-trotting all over with Mr. Richie Rich. Where were you the last time you left me a message? Somewhere in Maine?”

  Rory laughed. “Okay, okay. Point taken. So how are you? Gage tells me that things are coming along great with the lodge on Rambling Mountain.”

  Megan swiped her wet hair off her shoulder and tightened the towel around her breasts. “Coming along,” she agreed.

  “Everything working out with the new architect?”

  She chewed the inside of her cheek. “That’s one way to put it.”

  “Gage is pretty impressed with Nick Ventura. Says he would have wanted him on the job from the beginning except he wasn’t available at the time.”

  She stopped chewing her cheek and started picking at a cuticle. “He managed to get available well enough after Chance Michaels bowed out. How’s Killy?”

  “He’s great. We dropped him off at Angel River after the school year finished. He’s spending the month with my dad. Of course, to Gage’s chagrin, all he could talk about was getting to see Noah again.”

  To Megan’s thinking, Gage’s younger brother was finally getting his footing after a rocky start when he’d first come to the ranch with Gage last year. Now he was a regular part of the staff there, pitching in on everything from housekeeping to entertaining the guests with his piano playing. “Noah’s not so bad,” she said. “He’s stuck with things pretty well since you guys left.” She lay back on her bed. “Still hasn’t cut off the man bun, but he’s cute as hell and the guests like him.”

  “But you and he never—”

  “God, no!” Gage’s half brother was even younger than Nick. She threw her arm over her eyes but that did nothing to eradicate Nick’s image from the backs of her eyelids. He made Noah seem like a schoolboy in comparison.

  “Well, you talked about it once upon a time if you’ll recall.”

  “Only to egg you on where his big brother, Gage, was concerned. Besides, Man Bun is all about his girlfriend, Marni, anyway.” She lowered her arm and rolled onto her side, stuffing a pillow under her cheek. It was so easy to fall back on the easy subjects of conversation. And put off the not-so-easy one. “She moved into his cabin even. Surprised you haven’t heard.”

  “Things are better between Gage and Noah, but they’ve still got a long row to hoe.”

  “No more talk from your dad about selling Angel River?”

  “Not now. For one thing, business has still been increasing since last fall. And for another, Gage is making an investment there so Dad can do some of those upgrades we’d been putting off for too long.”

  Megan couldn’t help teasing. “My, my, my... How a little thing like falling in love can bring about huge changes.” Less than a year ago, Rory had feared that Gage intended to buy out the ranch altogether.

  Rory laughed again. “Well, speaking of changes...” She hesitated.

  And Megan instinctively knew what was coming next.

  “You’re going to have another godchild! I’m due the end of January!”

  Megan closed her eyes, exhaling carefully. She was due the beginning of December.

  “Well? Hello? Have you passed out in shock?”

  “No.” Her throat felt tight. “That’s great. I always said you make good babies. Just look at Killy. He’s probably over the moon with the idea of being a big brother.”

  “We actually haven’t told him yet. I mean, it’s still so early yet. We’ll wait until we pick him up from Angel River next month.” Rory’s joy was bubbling over in her voice. “I’ve been trying to tell you for weeks now! Ever since I found out. You were the first one I wanted to tell...well, after Gage, I mean.”

  There’d been a day when Rory would have told Megan everything first.

  “I’m glad for you,” Megan said quietly. Sincerely. “You and Killy finally have the kind of family in Gage that you deserve.”

  “Talking about family, I think Gage is actually softening where Vivian Templeton is concerned.”

  The less Megan heard the Templetons mentioned, the better, but Rory wasn’t to know that. “Is he going to tell her that she’s his long-lost grandmother, after all?”

  “He’s not quite at that point yet. But I think he will be. I think he’s realizing that even though his father was estranged from Vivian before he di
ed it doesn’t have to mean that Gage should be, too. As far as Vivian Templeton knows, her son died alone as a young man. She never even knew about Thatcher’s life with Althea Stanton or that they’d had a baby together.”

  “The positive influence of Rory McAdams—who believes family trumps all—strikes again.”

  Rory laughed softly. “That’s Rory Stanton to you, my friend. You were the one who knew all along I’d end up with Gage.”

  For some damn reason, Megan was tearing up again. “When something is so obvious, it’s obvious.” She cleared her throat. “You know after a month at Angel River, Killy’s gonna want a man bun again like Noah’s.”

  Rory laughed. “You think he doesn’t have one already? Anyway, Gage is waving at me that we’re late for our dinner reservations, so I’ll let you go. Next time you have a spiked hot chocolate, add an extra shot of Irish cream for me, okay? It’s going to be a while now before I get to indulge.”

  “Next time,” Megan promised huskily.

  “Love you!”

  “Love you, too,” she replied but Rory had already hung up.

  Megan dropped the receiver onto the hook and flopped back on the bed. “By the way,” she said to nobody. “You’re going to be a godmother, too.”

  Then she groaned and pulled the pillow over her head.

  * * *

  The next morning, Megan drove up the mountain as usual, bracing herself all the while to face Nick again.

  He wasn’t there.

  She told herself she was relieved. It meant she could study the latest horse listings Axel had sent her in peace and quiet.

  Well. Not so much peace, since there was a constant stream of carpenters coming and going from the trailer. And definitely not so much quiet, since there were cement trucks coming and going with almost as much frequency as the carpenters, as the foundations for the stables were completed.

  But she stuck it out until it was nearly lunchtime and then she drove back down the mountain. Again. Like usual.

  There was an empty stool at the counter next to Dori, and Megan slid into it quickly because if she didn’t, she knew she could be in for a wait.