Romancing the Rancher. Stacy Connelly

Читать онлайн.
Название Romancing the Rancher
Автор произведения Stacy Connelly
Жанр Современные любовные романы
Серия
Издательство Современные любовные романы
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781474001328



Скачать книгу

it beneath the right. He swore beneath his breath. He should have realized her reluctance might have been because of the injuries she’d sustained. But she’d pushed so hard to prove herself by walking to the cabin and then coming down to the stables that he hadn’t given it a thought.

      Instead, he’d shoved the offer for horseback riding in her face—not once, not twice, but a damned three times. And he was the man Nick wanted to look out for his cousin? He’d been right to shoot the veterinarian down.

      “I could still use your help with the horses,” Jarrett blurted out.

      “I’m sorry, Jarrett, really, but—”

      “You don’t have to ride,” he said as they reached the stables. “Just give me a hand with Silverbelle’s tack and brushing her down. You’re good with her, and she needs to learn that I’m not the only human she can trust.”

      “You really think that will help?”

      Longing filled her blue gaze as she looked at Silver. The same longing he’d sensed earlier as she’d watched him in the corral. The phantom memory of her body pressed against his taunted him, but he forced it aside. This wasn’t about the way Theresa made him feel. This was about putting the missing spark back in her eyes.

      He was going to get her back in the saddle, Jarrett vowed. He didn’t know how, and he had just over three weeks to figure it out, but he was determined to see Theresa ride.

      * * *

      Theresa wanted to say no. She really did. To spend time around Jarrett’s horses, knowing she might never ride again—at least not the way she had before—would be its own form of torture. Just stepping inside the cool stables brought back too many memories. The building wasn’t as fancy as the riding stables back home, but the scent of horses and hay, the sound of metal shoes on concrete, were all the same.

      And then there was being around the man himself—an entirely different kind of torture. He’d taken off his hat, and for the first time, she had the full view of his thick brown hair, cut short to the sides but with just enough length on top to make her fingertips tingle with the urge to touch. His face was as sculpted as his jawline with a wide forehead, eyebrows a shade darker than his hair and sharp cheekbones.

      And his eyes... Not brown or blue or green, but a mix of hazel that combined all those colors into a piercing gaze that seemed to see right inside her.

      A shiver raced down her spine, leaving goose bumps in its wake. What was it about Jarrett that made her body come alive? After the accident, she’d pretty much given up on feeling any spark of attraction or desire, too emotionally devastated by Michael’s desertion and too physically compromised to experience those feelings again. And she’d been perfectly fine with that numbness.

      So to come here and feel the rush of desire now—the weakness in her knees, the catch in her breath, the flush in her cheeks—all because Jarrett Deeks happened to glance her way... It was humiliating at the least. Slightly terrifying at the most.

      She opened her mouth to refuse his offer when Silver nudged her shoulder. The mare’s soulful brown eyes watched her closely, and Theresa knew it was only her own turmoil that made the animal’s expression seem wary and yet hopeful. Yes, it would be hard spending time around the horses, but if she could help, wouldn’t that be worth it?

      “She’s looking for a treat,” Jarrett explained, though she didn’t know how he even knew what the horse was doing when he was busy unbuckling the saddle. He’d hung up his denim jacket when they first stepped into the stables, and the soft cotton of the navy blue long-sleeved T-shirt he wore beneath stretched across his broad back and shoulders, defining every muscle.

      Theresa jerked her gaze away, just in case he was as aware of her as he was of the horse. Keeping her eyes on Silver, she asked, “What kind of treat?”

      “Just about anything edible.” He lifted the heavy tooled leather as if it weighed nothing and carried it into the tack room. When he returned, he held a small plastic bag filled with apple slices. “Apples and carrots are her favorites.”

      Reaching inside the bag he offered, Theresa pulled out a piece of apple. She couldn’t help but smile as the mare delicately nibbled it from her palm. She’d just reached for another slice when a horse in the stall beside her stuck out its large head and tried to snatch the apple right from her hand.

      “Whoa, there, Duke! Ladies first!” Jarrett said as he stepped between Theresa and the other horse. “Sorry about that. This guy can be a little pushy when it comes to treats.”

      “Well, if that’s the case, then I guess I’m a pushover,” Theresa joked as she gave the horse a bite of apple. “You said his name is Duke?”

      Jarrett nodded. “He was my first rescue,” he said with a fondness that reached inside Theresa’s chest and squeezed. A slight grin curved his lips, the faint expression lighting his stern features so much that she found herself longing to see him smile, to hear him laugh.

      “Hard to believe he was ever shy,” she said.

      “He wasn’t that kind of a rescue. Duke was a champion cutting horse back in the day. Won a lot of money over the years. People, crowds, none of that bothered Duke. Loved it, didn’t you, boy?” Reaching up, he gave the side of the horse’s neck a firm pat. “But after a while, age and some minor injuries started to catch up with him, and his owner, the kind of guy who sees his horses as moneymakers, wanted to get rid of him.”

      “So you bought him.”

      “Yep. This guy’s still got a lot of life in him. He still loves going out for a ride, and he’s great for giving lessons ’cause there’s nothing that’ll spook him. He can’t do everything he used to, but in a way, he’s figured out how to do even more.”

      Theresa shot him a sharp glance. Was that his way of telling her she needed to move on, too? To finding her own something more now that working in the ER was a thing of the past? With all of her relatives coming and going over the past few days, it was impossible to believe one of them hadn’t filled Jarrett in about her accident and her injuries.

      Did he really think it would be that easy? To give up on the dream of a lifetime and find something else to do? Something as fulfilling, as challenging, as rewarding as the career she’d dreamed of since she was a child?

      Frustration, loss and anger boiled up inside her. “Are we still talking about horses?”

      “What else?” he asked laconically. Refusing to rise to her challenge, to admit what she knew to be true.

      Theresa met his gaze as if by staring him down, she could force him to give a different answer. But with no more ammunition to fuel the fire, her anger started to wane. Maybe she was being too sensitive and reading more than she should into his words...

      She didn’t know how long the staring contest would have lasted if not for some outside interference. Tired of waiting for another treat, Duke nudged her shoulder. Hard. The unexpected contact knocked her off balance and right into Jarrett’s arms. Her face burned at the first moment of contact. For the second time in as many meetings, she was practically falling at Jarrett’s feet. And she’d worried about him feeling sorry for her before. Nothing like going back for another round of humiliation.

      She quickly braced her hands between them, ready to push away, when the softness of the shirt he wore and the heat of the skin beneath seeped into her palms. Her heart began to race, but the rapid beat was nothing compared to the wild pounding within Jarrett’s chest. She was close enough to feel the warmth of his breath against the side of her neck. If she turned her face, even a little, she’d feel the rough scrape of his day-old beard against her cheek. And if she turned just a little more, she would feel the heated press of his mouth against hers.

      Their ragged breathing seemed to fill the stable, so much louder than the stomp of a shoed foot, the gusty blow of a nearby horse, the jangle of Silverbelle’s bridle. But not so loud that Theresa didn’t jump when she heard a vehicle door slam shut. Jarrett stepped back so quickly,