Racetrack Romance BOX SET (Books 1-3) (17 page)

BOOK: Racetrack Romance BOX SET (Books 1-3)
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She could feel the heat of his body, smell his minty breath, and if she turned her head a few inches…a quiver of anticipation shook her.

“The mare is going to like it here,” he said. His warm breath fanned her ear, sending little shivers down her spine. “Peaceful, no bugles.”

He lifted his hands to her shoulders and gently turned her around. His eyes darkened as they settled on her mouth, his desire so obvious her pulse jammed into overdrive. She knew she should remind him, remind her, that she absolutely never dated trainers. Absolutely never.

She could stop this thing right now. But the intensity that pulsed from his big body was too magnetic, too overpowering and it was impossible to do anything but rise on her toes and slide her arms around his neck.

His head dipped and his mouth covered hers. A hand slid beneath her hair to cup the back of her neck. His mouth was firm and hungry and coaxing. Her lips automatically parted and when his tongue slipped in her mouth, her brain seemed to shut down. She clung to his hard shoulders, conscious of nothing but his kiss, the way his tongue mated with hers, the way he feasted on her mouth. Sensations rocketed through her, and she was only dimly aware of his bold hand as it drifted over her rear and tucked her between his hips.

Her world shifted and she had no conception of time, but when he finally lifted his head, she clung to him with a shameless sigh.

“Julie,” he breathed, his voice husky, his eyes a darkening gray. He dragged a thumb over her lower lip, and she saw him swallow. “Is your dad home?”

“His truck’s here,” she managed but his thumb traced a sensual path along her neck, lingering over her collarbone, and it was difficult to speak.

“Let’s grab you a horse then.” He lowered his hand and brushed her mouth with a quick kiss. “Remember where we stopped.”

She stared, blinking in disbelief. Her legs were weak, her brain still stumbled, and he was thinking of riding? “We stopped,” she muttered, “just as I was about to say this was a bad idea.”

He tilted her chin, his breath ragged. “
This
is a damn good idea. And I’d really like to be alone with you right now.”

“We sort of are,” she said, amazed at how the touch of his hand on her neck could cause such a ricochet of sensations.

Steps pounded beyond the barn, and she jumped. Kurt gave her a rueful smile and stepped back just as her dad, hatless and frazzled, charged around the corner. The brisk wind ruffled his gray hair, and he looked half dressed without his Stetson.

“Glad you two are still here. I need some help.” He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder.

“What’s wrong, Dad?” she asked, adjusting Country Girl’s halter over the post, afraid that if he saw her face, he’d know she’d been kissing Kurt. And, in fact, wished they were still kissing.

“Got a mare in for breeding,” he said, “and she ain’t cooperating.” His voice was thick with impatience, and he vanished behind the barn.

She looked at Kurt but he’d already turned to help her dad, and she followed them both, weaving through the outbuildings until they reached the round pen where Dude paced the fence in a frenzy of anticipation.

“Nice-looking stud.” Kurt’s warm gaze flickered over Julie’s before turning to her father. “Foundation breeding?”

“Yeah, Joe Cody bloodlines. Dude’s offspring are real versatile, great in reining and cutting. You interested in Quarter Horses?”

“Where’s the mare?” Kurt asked.

Julie hid a smile, admiring how he’d averted a long pedigree conversation. Her dad had the fanatical zeal of a breeding enthusiast and would have talked for hours. She always found it boring.

“It’s Nick’s, the farrier’s mare.” Her dad retrieved his dusty Stetson from the dirt and slapped it against his leg before placing it carefully on his head. “I put her back in the barn, first stall on the left. She’s a first-timer. Needs a chain. Almost kicked Dude’s head off. Mine too.”

Julie turned to get the mare, but Kurt touched her shoulder. “Relax. I’ll get her,” he said quietly.

Minutes later, he reappeared leading Nick’s horse, a pretty bay with four white socks. Julie had seen Nick rope with the mare. She was agile and quick, but lacked power, and the farrier hoped for a foal with more size than his dam.

Kurt led the mare into the pen and adjusted the chain over her nose. The mare stared at the stallion, trembling in response to his hopeful snorts. Her tail was wrapped, and she squatted slightly.

“She looks ready,” Kurt said.

“She doesn’t know what she wants,” her dad said. “I teased her with him earlier. She was responsive then, but changed her mind.”

Their blunt words made Julie flush. She’d helped with countless breedings, but Kurt’s presence and his hot kiss left her strangely self-conscious. Her gaze drifted back to him; she studied his body while he was busy with the mare.

His arms were big—he was almost as muscled as Dude—and his biceps rippled when he patted the mare. When he reached up to adjust the halter, she glimpsed his ridged stomach. Her breath quickened, and she clambered up on the top rail, figuring she might as well enjoy the view. Most of the men who brought mares for breeding were potbellied and ancient, almost as old as her dad. Kurt was a vast improvement. And he sure could kiss.

“Ready?”

Her dad’s question pulled her attention back to Dude who pawed and stretched his head, curling his upper lip in response to the mare’s odor. He nuzzled her flanks. Julie felt a rush of sympathy as the fully erect stallion swung up and entered the mare with a savage thrust.

Dude covered her, biting her urgently on the neck, then signaled jerkily with his tail. He withdrew with a satisfied grunt.

“All he needs now is a cigarette,” Julie said, oddly irritated by his contentment. Tomorrow he’d be just as eager to breed the next mare led into his pen.

Kurt chuckled, but her father shot her a reproachful look as he guided the stallion through the gate. “I’ll rinse off his penis,” he said.

Her face warmed. She jerked her head away, awkward again now that she and Kurt were alone. She slid off the fence, reluctant to meet his eyes. “I’ll walk the mare around a bit,” she said.

“I’ll do it, honey,” Kurt said. “You go catch your horse.”

Honey? She’d always thought that word sounded patronizing. Had never let anyone at the track call her that. Even Otto had backed down after saying it once too often. But they weren’t at the track now, and it didn’t really annoy her. In fact, the easy way it rolled from Kurt’s mouth kicked her body into a tingling awareness.

She shoved her hands in her back pockets and sauntered toward the pasture, pretending a nonchalance she didn’t feel. Certainly she couldn’t deny the attraction, but events were moving much too fast. And a man who could kiss like Kurt was dangerous. She didn’t like her mindless reaction. Needed time to think. Time to regroup.

Unfortunately she had the disturbing feeling she was no longer the one in control.

 

 

Chapter Seventeen

 

 

Kurt unwrapped the mare’s tail, staring over her rump to watch Julie trudge toward the south pasture. Her head was bent; she appeared deep in thought. He hoped those thoughts included him. Her passionate kiss had left him hard with need and if she wanted a little fun, he’d be more than willing to provide it. In fact, he intended to shove any thoughts of Bixton right out of her stubborn head.

“Thanks for the help,” Adam said as he walked up and stroked the mare’s neck.

Kurt smoothed his expression before turning and tossing Adam the rolled bandage. Julie’s father always seemed to be creeping up on him. It was a bit unsettling, especially when he’d been eying Julie with distinctly carnal thoughts.

“Going to be a nice day.” Adam fingered the tail bandage and scanned the sky with an expert eye. “Be nice to go with you, but I’m helping a neighbor shuffle some cattle.”

Kurt nearly choked on his relief. Much as he liked Julie's dad, three would be one too many for this trip. He nodded, making a sound that he hoped passed for disappointment.

“Did you get your mare settled?” Adam asked.

“Yeah.” Kurt nodded, happy to change the subject. “She's in the middle paddock next to the buckskin. I wrote down her feeding directions and an emergency phone number. Be careful. She's lost faith in people. A vet is dropping by for a routine check. How do you want the board handled?”

“You can pay later when I figure out her costs. Let’s go back to the house and grab a coffee.”

Kurt followed Adam into the cedar home. The screen door slammed behind them, and a huge mottled shadow stalked down the hall.

“Sit, Blue,” Adam said, using a bootjack to pry off his muddy boots. “Don’t pat the dog. He’s not real chummy.”

“What kind of dog is he?” Kurt asked, noting the dog’s raised hackles. “Coat looks like a seal.”

“We don’t have many seals in Alberta.” Adam’s eyes glinted with amusement. “Julie found him when he was a pup. Probably part coyote with some heeler and Australian shepherd mixed in. He's great with the stock, tougher than a badger. Doesn’t like many people, but he’s a helluva dog.”

The “helluva dog” made Kurt uncomfortable. Blue sat obediently, but his strange eyes glowed as he watched Kurt tug off his boots.

“Want me to let him out?” Kurt asked.

“Sure,” Adam called, already halfway down the hall. “Julie might want help with Dusty.”

Kurt pushed the door open. The dog paused then brushed by with an air of disdain as though a stranger was beneath his notice. “You’re welcome,” Kurt said.

Blue’s head swung. Kurt wasn't sure if it was the words or the amusement in his voice, but the dog definitely looked annoyed. He yanked the screen door shut leaving Blue on the other side. Their eyes locked as they measured each other through the mesh.

“I’m on the veranda,” Adam called.

Kurt turned, forgot the dog, and followed Adam’s voice and the welcome smell of hickory coffee.

Adam passed him a warm mug. They relaxed in wooden chairs—surprisingly comfortable despite their hardness. The veranda gave a sweeping view of the tidy pastures, the hayfield and the darker dirt oval. Something moved, and Julie came into view on the ridge, leading a white-faced sorrel.

Kurt took a hasty gulp of coffee then set his mug on the table. “I’ll help her load.”

“It’s okay. She has plenty of help.” Adam pointed at Blue trotting down the driveway and marking every fencepost. The dog shoved his head in the air then bolted, a streak of gray against the bleached gravel. Nose down, he followed Julie's trail.

The dog’s boisterous greeting almost knocked her down; the horse she led pivoted, pinning his ears at the dog’s raw enthusiasm.

Adam chuckled. “Dusty is ornery when he knows he’s going to work, but Blue will change his mind pretty quick.”

It was obvious the sorrel wasn't looking forward to leaving his comfortable pasture, and when Julie tried to lead him onto the trailer, he planted his feet. Her words weren’t clear, but her hand signal was.

Blue sprang forward, nipped Dusty on a hind fetlock and easily avoided the retaliatory kick. The horse humped his hindquarters, but the dog slid in again, punishing the resistance with another nip.

Dusty lowered his head, trotted up the ramp and joined Cisco in the trailer.

“Not bad.” Kurt smiled with approval. “We could use that dog behind the starting gate.”

“Yeah,” Adam said, “he’s handy to have around. Dusty hates the trailer but walks right on when he’s heading home. Usually Blue goes with Julie so there’s never any trouble loading.”

Kurt’s smile faded. Shit. Blue was certain to be protective, and just the thought of the dog watching them with those odd blue eyes made him uneasy.

“But today I need Blue’s help moving cattle,” Adam added.

“Of course.” Kurt quickly set down his mug and rose, afraid he’d end up with a chaperone if he lingered any longer.

“Saddlebags are on the table,” Adam said. “Julie asked me to throw some food together.”

Kurt slung the nylon bags over his shoulder and gave Adam an appreciative ‘thanks.’ Julie’s father was a good example of western hospitality, and Kurt hoped Julie would be just as obliging. 

He joined her by the trailer and checked the ramp, but she’d already bolted it in place. Blue sat by the back wheels, tongue lolling, wearing the eager expression of a dog anticipating a road trip.

“Handy dog,” Kurt said. “Too bad your dad needs him today.”

“Yes, but he’s worth three riders to Dad.” She scratched Blue behind his ears. “You stay here, fellow. You’ll have more fun working cattle.”

The dog whined and pressed against her legs, but his steady gaze followed Kurt, watching as he tossed the saddlebags in the back and opened the door for Julie.

She gave Blue a final pat and climbed in the cab, and he closed the door with a sense of relief. Girl, horses, food—they were ready. He carefully eased the truck and trailer from the yard, checking for the dog in the side mirror. Blue sat, still as a statue, until he was swallowed by their dust.

Kurt glanced at Julie. “I was sure he’d follow. Must feel good to have devotion like that.”

“Of course it feels good.” She settled against the seat and gave him such a beautiful smile it sucked his breath away. Now that he’d tasted her mouth, he wanted more.

He reached over and squeezed her hand. “I can make you feel good too,” he said. He ran his thumb over her palm, gently rubbing the calluses left from years of riding.

“Probably you could,” she said lightly, “but I don’t imagine you heel quite so well.”

He didn’t intend to be deflected with humor and let his gaze roam her body, making no attempt to hide his appreciation. She pulled her hand away, a blush coloring her face, reaching all the way to the top of those elegant cheekbones.

“Best we don’t go too fast,” she said. “Dad says you’re interested in buying some land.” She pointed out the side window, clearly determined to change the subject. “Be nice to have you as a neighbor. Especially if you have a starting gate. I'd love a neighbor with a starting gate.”

“I have three,” he said.

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