With This Ring (Denim & Spurs Book 1) (5 page)

Lucky damn horse.

She knew he wore cowboy boots.
In all the years she’d known him, the only time he hadn’t was for football. Wiping her hands along her jeans, she went to her father’s side and kissed him.

“Sorry you had to come get me, Daddy.”

He patted her hand. “Mr. Kane was just telling me how pleased he is with the work you’ve done on his horses.”

Flushed, she ducked her head. “You taught me all I know, Daddy.”

“Never was good with compliments, this one.” Her father rose and moved from the room. “Good to see you again, son.”

“You too, sir.”

His voice, so mesmerizing, had her biting the inside of her lip. They were alone in the room, and she slowly met Dustin’s gaze. He watched her, amusement on his face.

“Rough night? Or has it been that long since you’ve drunk so much?”

She sat on the arm of the nearest chair, unsure how long her legs could hold her. “You come all the way out here to ask me about my drinking habits?” Rubbing her temples, she wished the pounding would ebb. An easy grin lifted the corners of his entirely-too-kissable mouth.

“Nope. I thought you might like a ride to retrieve your truck.”

Her truck. Crap. Still parked outside Denim & Spurs, alerting to everyone she went home with someone. More specifically, Dustin Kane, as he took her out of the establishment. She groaned. “You sure you don’t mind?”

“Not at all.”

She pushed up and yawned. “Let’s go then.” He nodded once, sharply. “Back in a bit, Daddy, and I’ll take care of the horses.”

“Need some help?” Dustin asked as she shut the door behind her.

“With what?” Why couldn’t she focus on something
other
than how amazing his ass looked in that denim, or how he moved, smelled, anything like that?

“Horses,” Dustin said.

“I only have to throw out some hay.”

“I’ll help. Let’s go.”

She found herself headed in that direction before she realized he’d issued an order and she’d followed it.

“How many bales?”

“Six.” She started the Gator and pulled it up to the hay shed. “Damn,” she muttered, watching Dustin stride down with a bale in each hand. Flashes of being in his arms as he carried her up the stairs hit her. Then came the recollection of her asking him to sleep with her.
Oh, God. I can’t believe I did that. How the hell do I go forward from here?

Dustin didn’t say a word about it to her, just put the hay in the back and went for more bales. Didn’t take them long to load the Gator and head for the pasture. He got the gate and easily hopped back into the utility vehicle beside her. She watched him in her periphery as she drove to the first stop where they’d set out some hay. How did he manage to smell and look so good?

“Sorry about waking you.”

She slid out, met him at the back where he flicked open his knife and sliced through the twine with ease. They each took two flakes and spread it around.

“I needed to be up anyway.” They progressed along the next spots, the horses coming up at a slow trot. “Did I do anything last night I need to be worried about? Or apologize for?” He grinned at her over the remaining hay. Her belly tensed as what felt like a thousand head stampeded through. It was a grin that boasted a secret of sorts. Something private. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

He shrugged easily. “A bit.”

They spread out the final hay and left the pasture. Dustin wasn’t what anyone would call chatty and normally neither was she, but she found herself craving the sound of his deep melodic voice.

In his truck, after disposing of the twine and parking the Gator, her body calmed a bit. Not a lot but in her state she’d take anything. Soft strands of country music poured through the cab. She wasn’t surprised.
He had country on in his barns as well.

He had a dark green F-350 King Ranch, and she shifted along the smooth brown leather. A standard—like she had—and she observed him surreptitiously as he maneuvered them down the nearly deserted road.

“You plan on answering me?” She rested her head against the seat and closed her eyes.

“Before or after the kiss?”

That soft-spoken statement caught her attention. She jerked up only to cringe and take a sharp breath at the exploding pain in her head. “Kiss?” she croaked.

A sexy smile flirted with the corner of his mouth. “You don’t remember?” He stared at her, making her take a sharp breath for an entirely different reason. Those eyes, those incredible eyes burned with heat that singed her.

She thought she’d dreamed kissing him.

“No dream, beautiful. It happened right at Denim & Spurs.”

Can’t even keep my mouth shut for an internal thought.
Yet, her girlish side latched onto the fact he’d called her beautiful.

“I kissed you?”

“Long and passionate.” He winked as they slowed, entering town. “Rocked my world. I’m hurt you don’t recall it but guess that means I’ll have to ensure next time it’s memorable for you. I’ll never forget it. The feel of your lips, the intoxicating taste of you, a moment I’ll never forget.”

She slumped in her seat and wished to be anywhere but where she was at that very moment. Even so, “next time” reverberated throughout her body. Her heart beat it out with every pump.

He parked beside her truck and allowed his to idle. Hopping out, Finn headed around the front to her driver’s door. A hand pressed against the bright silver metallic paint of her dual wheeled truck, keeping it closed.

She peered up at Dustin as he stood there. Although he’d parked so their driver’s doors were side by side, each truck facing opposite directions, she’d not expected him to get out. He had and she’d become all too aware of how little room there actually existed between them.

“Yes?”

“Have dinner with me.”

Words escaped her. In all honesty she wasn’t sure what to believe. The kiss she thought was a dream and now this? “You want to have dinner with me?”

“I’ll pick you up at seven-thirty.” He skimmed her with his gaze, an almost possessive gaze, and chucked her under the chin. “See you then.”

She didn’t move as he drove away. “Strange days.” Finn noticed quite a few people watching her from across the street. “I think I should honestly consider never drinking again.” Opening her door, she climbed up and started the diesel before leaving the parking lot and heading back home to handle chores.

“Care to tell me why Dustin Kane dropped by to pick you up, Finn?”

She flexed her fingers around the shovel handle before stabbing it back into the large pile of sawdust in the corner of their indoor arena. Gripping the wheelbarrow’s handles, she answered her father. “He drove me home last night because I had too much to drink.”

“Just like that?”

She shrugged. “Just like that.”

“Is he expecting something because he hired you?”

So shocked by the question, she stopped and met her father’s gaze. “Like what?”

“He’s a man. It wouldn’t be the first time a man gave a job to a woman with expectations.”

Oh, she’d noticed he was a man all right. All man. “He’s been a perfect gentleman, Daddy.” Except for that kiss—although to be fair she could have initiated that. “You can always ask him when he picks me up for supper.”

Oh how she wished to retract her flippant remark. Her father frowned before leaving, the crutches making slow going over the dirt.

“I just might.”

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” she admonished herself as she took the wheelbarrow across the large arena and got back to work.

She shoveled, raked, and sweated until all the stalls were cleaned and had fresh sawdust. Then she brought the horses in and gave them some feed, spending quality time with each. A late afternoon storm rolled in, and she was about to dash through it when her phone rang.

“Finn.”

“Hi, Finn, this is Jack Martin.”

“Yes, sir.” Mr. Martin owned the dressage farm she’d also been working in Branchwater. “What can I do for you?”

“I know it’s last minute, but Fool’s Gold threw a shoe. We leave before the rooster’s awake tomorrow for competition. Do you have time to come replace it tonight?”

She glanced at her watch. “On my way.”

After ensuring everything she needed resided in her truck, she told her father where she was going. On the road, she noticed the time and hoped she’d make it for supper with Dustin. She still wasn’t sure why he wanted to share a meal with her.
Not sure why he kissed me either. Or let me kiss him, however it happened.

At least the storm was short-lived and the sun had returned by the time she reached her destination. Jack met her as she drove up and parked at Golden Star Farms. Since she also worked there, she knew which barn housed Fool’s Gold.

“Thanks so much, Finn.”

She slammed her truck door behind her. “Not a problem.”

“He’s all hooked up and ready for you.”

“I’ll let you know when I’m done.”

His smile was genuine as he walked away. She watched him depart. Jack, a very handsome man, had lost his wife a few years ago. Her father had called her about that. She’d sent flowers in lieu of attending since she just couldn’t get away.

She turned from staring at him. Yep, she’d said handsome all right. He had silver at his temples, which enhanced his appearance. The man now lived with his sister-in-law and her children who also rode in dressage.

“Good-looking man,” she muttered, dragging her gaze up the side of the barn before her. Now was not the time to be thinking about another good-looking man.

With determination in her stride, she entered the cooler interior of the barn. Sure enough, as Jack stated, Fool’s Gold stood in the aisle.

“Hello, gorgeous,” she said, stepping up to his head.

Fool’s Gold was a bay Hanoverian, and she loved him. He had a great temperament. She rubbed his nose before moving down his side to his rear left leg. Her fingers lingered over the “H” brand on his hindquarter. That was done to maintain a public registry of Hanoverian horses and was the American Hanoverian Society’s brand. Jack also had his stable’s brand on him.

“Foot,” she muttered, tapping his fetlock.

He shifted his weight, obliging her. Hefting his hoof, she checked the condition of it. Two nails remained embedded so she placed it back down.

“Not sure what you did, boy, to lose it, but I’ll get you fixed up right quick.”

Ducking back under the tie, she retrieved her things and got to work. Before long, she stood over her no longer spotless anvil recreating the full support shoe Fool’s Gold needed. Sweat-covered and tired by the time she finished, Finn wiped her brow as she rotated, stretching her back.

“You’re amazing, Finn. Thank you so much for coming to bail my ass out of the fire.”

She didn’t start, having known a while ago Jack had returned and sat on a bale watching her. “He’s a good boy. I’m done if you want to try him out.”

Jack rose and with his loose-limbered gait approached her. She believed with everything within her you could tell a lot of a man by the way he treated his animals. In her opinion—which might mean squat—Jack was one of the good guys.

He rubbed the stallion’s nose and received a whicker in return. “I’ll saddle him up. You can ride.”

Her head flew up at his statement, her belly fluttering with excitement. “You want me to ride him?”

Jack glanced at her but never stopped doling the attention to Fool’s Gold. “Why not? You used to ride dressage. You’re more than capable of putting him through his paces.”

Excitement thrummed. “I don’t want to mess him up for competition.”

His chuckle, deep and smooth, flowed from him over her. “I’ve watched you compete, Finn. You’ve got a gentle but firm touch. If you don’t
want
to ride him, fine.”

Oh, she did. Brushing her hands off her apron, she removed it, laying it near her tools. Jack’s smile told her he had already known she’d go for it.

“Load your truck and I’ll saddle him.”

She did, practically giddy like a schoolgirl, as she hastened to load it all. Catching up with them in the outdoor arena, she settled a hand upon the stallion’s muscled neck.

“Let me help you up.”

Soon, she sat upon him and the familiar quiver of being on horseback overtook her. The strong equine between her legs rippled with coiled power. Life didn’t get much better than this.

Chapter Three

“She’s not here.”

Dustin shifted his weight between his legs as he stared at Finn’s father. He drummed his fingers along the brim of his black Brumby. Had she stood him up? Perhaps she was playing him as Charlotte had done.

“Okay,” Dustin said, proud he hid his frustration.

He turned only to draw up short at the unmistakable rumble of a diesel engine. Instantly he forgot about the man blocking the doorway and focused on the drive. He didn’t know what to feel when he recognized the silver metallic Dually rolling up the driveway. Relief. Happiness. Arousal. Most likely a mix of all three.