“Yes, yes, yes! I want to come again.”
Gracie was still hopping when the sound of a car pulling up made them all turn. Matt.
His brother joined them, kissed his wife’s cheek, then laid a hand on Gracie’s head. “Hey, ladybug.”
“Daddy!” Gracie jumped and latched onto his side. “I rode a horse! She’s Hazel and I rode her!”
“Is that right?” Matt pulled his daughter up and into his arms and gave Abby one of those married-people looks. The kind you shared with that one person who knows you better than anyone. “Everything okay?”
“It’s great.” Abby slid her arm around her husband’s back.
Stephen took in his brother. Clean-shaven, fresh clothes. “I thought you were—”
“He finished early,” Abby said quickly. “I called him, and see”—she patted his chest before he could speak—“he came right out to get us. So, you don’t have to take us home. You can stay or…whatever. I think my car needs a new battery, honey. We should go check that out. Now.”
Yeah. Abby the innocent was not so innocent. But how would she—Lizzy. Damn nosy sister. Matt walked his wife to the car and lifted Gracie onto his shoulders, her little-girl giggle wafting on the air. Leaving him alone with a woman he wanted, but shouldn’t want, who clearly didn’t want him.
As Matt’s truck drove away, a powder-blue van pulled in.
“Oh, no.” Hannah tracked the van as it parked.
Her brows were drawn together, her hair slightly mussed around her face like she’d just rolled out of bed. Or in a bed, and damn it, he wanted to touch her. Wanted that right. “What’s wrong?”
“I left a message. They must not have gotten it.” She shook her head. “Lexie’s not here today and Toby’s too big for me to manage by myself.”
A woman stepped out of the van and waved a shaky hand before going around to the passenger door.
“He’s going to be so disappointed.”
Stephen couldn’t imagine anyone looking more disappointed than Hannah did right now. Except maybe when she’d stood in his brother’s kitchen doorway. She’d had the same fallen look then, maybe worse.
“I’ll help you,” Stephen said, and waited for her eyes to meet his. “If you’ll let me.”
Chapter 10
She hadn’t really wanted his help, but the alternative would have been to ask him to leave and disappoint an eight-year-old boy who lived a life of disappointment.
So she’d taken what Stephen offered and he’d done everything she’d asked. His hands were large but gentle, lifting Toby’s body into the saddle and taking him down when they were finished. He’d walked along on the right side as directed, while she led horse and rider through a series of maneuvers and games.
Now it was just the two of them in the quiet of the barn. Stephen had shed his polo, and the white T-shirt he wore beneath stretched deliciously across his chest. Even hotter than she’d imagined when she’d tried not to imagine him. Just watching him run his fingers through his damp hair was hot. He’d worked up a light sweat, making the fabric mold to the definition of his body. The muscles in his back flexed and his biceps strained against the cotton sleeves when he hung the special saddle where she pointed high on the wooden post.
God had been good to Stephen McKinney, blessing him with a sharp mind and charm, the body of an athlete, and a face so carefully carved, a girl might miss the rest. That he was a player, too hot, too skilled, and way too dangerous for her.
“Hannah?” He looked at her amused, his lips pulling up on one side, bringing out a faint dimple and a twinkle in his eye. “Is that it?”
“Yes.” Obviously she’d been caught staring and she threw the word out behind her and bolted from the tack room.
He followed. “So, you’re finished?”
“What? For the day? No. I mean…” God, he made her tongue-tied and twisted. “I don’t have any more students, but I have more stuff to do.”
“Okay. I’ll help.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “You know how to muck a stall?”
“I’m pretty sure I could learn.” He gave her a slow, sexy smile. “Especially if I had a nice teacher.”
Yes, she was sure he could. Was probably a master at everything he did. But she eyed him, uncertain what to make of his sudden interest. He should have left an hour ago. He’d leave eventually anyway, and would most likely never come back.
While she debated, he took the decision out of her hands, grabbed a rake, and got busy. Probably how he approached everything in life, in business. With women. Self-assured, confident, in charge.
She looped a rope around Hazel’s neck and led her through the back of the barn to a turnout paddock. She did the same with two others so they could clean the stalls, then returned for the last one.
“Mr. Ed, huh. Do you talk?”
She stopped at the sound of Stephen’s deep voice and watched him scratch the old chestnut’s forehead.