A Cowboy State of Mind Page 12

  “I grabbed some detangling conditioner,” Bryn told him, leaning out of the pool to pluck the bottle from the ground. She poured a dollop into her hand and worked it through the horse’s matted mane. “I thought it might help with his mane.”

  “It will,” Zane replied, swallowing hard. Her shirt had ridden up an inch when she’d reached for the conditioner, and his mouth had gone dry as he caught a glimpse of her luscious skin. He picked up the scissors. “And so will these. I’m going to give him a trim, cut back the forelock over his eyes so he can see, and try to cut out some of the worst mats.” He combed out the hair across the horse’s forehead and cut it to right above his eyes. Bryn detangled as much of the hair through his mane as she could, then they cut the rest free, still saving a good three or four inches of mane. “That’s got to feel better, doesn’t it, boy?”

  The horse shook his head, sending water flying, then nudged his nose into Zane’s T-shirt, leaving a huge wet mark across his chest.

  Bryn peered at his chest. “Your shirt is soaked, and it’s hot out here. It’s okay if you want to take it off.”

  Any moisture he’d gained in his mouth dried up faster than water soaking into the sands of the Afghanistan desert. She’d already turned away, but not before he’d thought he caught a ghost of an impish grin. Was she flirting with him or just concerned for his well-being?

  He cleared his throat, trying to get his mouth to work. “I’m good.” He wasn’t good. Not at all. His shirt was wet, and he was hot—his skin was scorching with the warmth of the sun and the heat of her comment, but he wasn’t taking his shirt off. No way.

  Beyond the men in his unit, not many had seen him without a shirt. Even with the few women he’d known intimately over the last few years, he made a point either to keep his shirt on or the lights off. The scar on his face itched, the skin stretched and tight, and he tensed his shoulders, feeling the same stretch and prickle across his back.

  He’d made a sort of peace with his dad as an adult, but make no mistake, Birch Taylor was a mean drunk.

  A warm pressure leaned into him, and he peered down to see the collie pressed against him, her head slanting into his chest. He rubbed her ears, tilting his head to accept the lightest press of her nose to his cheek as he murmured, “Good dog.”

  “It seems to me that anyone you let kiss on you like that deserves to be called by her name.”

  What would you like me to call you?

  He sighed, wishing Bryn were the one kissing him instead of the wet snout smelling faintly of dog breath.

  “I’m working on it,” he muttered, stroking the horse’s back and avoiding Bryn’s eye, afraid she’d see the desperate hunger shining there.

  “That’s a start,” she said softly, resting her hand on top of his for just a moment. The moment was interrupted as the horse dipped his head quickly into the water then let out a small whinny as he sprayed water across them both. Bryn’s eyes widened, then she let loose a peal of laughter. “I think he’s getting a little spunk back.”

  “It’s amazing what a good meal and a nice bath will do for you.” He couldn’t help but smile at the little horse who did seem to be in better spirits. “Let’s get him out on the grass, and you can brush him while I work on his feet.”

  They led the horse out of the pool, and he bent his head and chomped on the grass as Bryn toweled him off and worked his coat with a brush and curry comb. Zane cleaned and cut back his cracked and curled hooves.

  Bryn stood back and studied their work. Tears sprung to her eyes. “He looks like a different horse.”

  “He’s got to feel better too,” Zane replied, buckling the newer halter around its head and clipping the lead rope to it. “Let’s take him out to the corral and see how he does with the other horses.” He pulled on the lead, and the horse took a few tentative steps forward, as if testing his freshly cut hooves. Limping a little still, his stride grew stronger as he followed them across the driveway and through the barn.

  Zane led him out into the corral, then unclipped the lead rope and tossed it back toward the barn. “Let’s see what he does.” Bryn stood next to him, and he had a sudden urge to put his arm around her waist, as if they were proud parents who were watching their child head into school for the first time.

  “Aww. I feel like we’re the overprotective mom and dad sending our little son off to school.”

  He grinned, liking the idea that their thoughts had been so in sync. “Our four-legged hairy son who is smaller than all the other kids in the class.”

  She chuckled. “He is so tiny. Look at him. His head barely comes up to the stomach of the other horses.”

  Beauty eyed the small creature from where she stood by the fence, but Prince plodded over and bent his neck to touch his head to the smaller horse. The bigger horse sniffed the smaller one, then turned his attention to Zane as he trotted over looking for a treat.

  Zane held his empty palms out. “I got nothing. Now, be a good horse and go show that little guy around.”

  The horse gazed at him a moment, then trudged back across the corral. Shamus tried to follow, hesitantly walking forward as if trying out a new pair of shoes. He shook his head, seeming to revel in the release of the snug and filthy halter. Zane wondered how long he’d been tied up. He took another few steps, then slowly picked up confidence and trotted a few feet forward.

  “Gah. Look how cute he is.” Bryn clapped a hand to her chest. “His feet must feel a ton better.”

  “They aren’t a hundred percent. It’s gonna take a few weeks and some more care, but yeah, just cleaning them out and trimming them back has got to feel like a vast improvement.”

  She laughed as the little horse sprang up and down and pranced toward them. “He looks like he’s hopping. He’s gone from looking like Eeyore to bouncing like Tigger.”

  Caught up in her laughter, Zane leaned down and called the horse, then raced around the corral, encouraging Shamus to chase after him. The little horse trotted and pranced after him.

  Bryn joined in the fun, running after Zane and cooing to the horse, her laughter filling the corral and Zane’s heart.

  “We did it,” Bryn cried, launching herself into Zane’s arms. “We really did it. We saved this little horse. And now we’ve saved three horses. I’m so happy I think my heart is going to burst.” She wrapped her arms around his neck as she hugged him.

  He hugged her back, his hands automatically going around her back and pulling her to him. Emotions swirled through him—a pang in his chest that might have been his heart exploding mixed with the heat of want and need.

  She pulled her head back and looked up at him, her eyes bright with excitement. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I couldn’t have done this, any of this, without you.”

  He shook his head, his neck and ears going hot. “I didn’t do anything,” he muttered.

  “You did everything.”

  He held her gaze, the butterflies in his gut crashing into his stomach walls in kamikaze dive bombs. Which was how he felt—like this thing with Bryn was a kamikaze mission, and the only thing to come from it would be hurt and pain and loss.

  Still. He wanted this. Wanted her. His gaze dropped to her lips. They shimmered with some kind of gloss, looking soft and plump as they parted—as if in anticipation.

  Don’t do it.

  But her lips. They parted. She wants me to kiss her.

  Doesn’t matter. You’re not the guy for her. She’s good and sweet. You’re only going to hurt her.

  I know.

  Want and need tightened his chest, every nerve singing with desire as he fought an internal battle with his subconscious. Should he? Shouldn’t he?

  He knew his subconscious was right. He wasn’t the guy for her. He wasn’t even sticking around. Why start something he couldn’t finish?

  Because it would feel so damn good.

&nb
sp; Bryn was an itch he couldn’t scratch. A want he couldn’t have.

  Except he could have her. All he had to do was lean down and press his lips to hers.

  He’d kissed her once, outside the diner, but that was a peck, a whisper of the way he wanted to kiss her now. He wasn’t interested in a peck. He wanted to crush her mouth with his, to take his time and kiss her good and thorough.

  But that would only open the door—a door he couldn’t make himself walk through and one he wouldn’t be able to shut. Once he’d really kissed her, tasted her, he would only want more.

  Which was why he should walk away.

  That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.

  His gaze was still on her mouth. Walk away.

  He raised one hand to touch her cheek, resting his fingers lightly on her face as he drew the side of his thumb along the edge of her bottom lip. She hitched in the softest breath and pulled the corner of her lip—the spot he’d just touched—under her top teeth.

  Ah, to hell with it. He’d never been very good at following useful advice anyway.

  He leaned in, brushed her lips with his, the softest graze, but it was enough—enough to stir the longing he’d thought he’d long buried, enough to start his heart thrashing into the walls of his chest, enough to know he wanted more. He wanted it all.

  Chapter 8

  Zane pulled her to him, deepening the kiss. His hand cupped Bryn’s cheek, holding her face as he took her mouth in an onslaught of heat and desire. His other arm tightened around her, pulling her close as she melted into him. Her lips were yielding, pliant at first, then hungry as she matched the intensity of his need.

  Her hands moved up his back, gripping his T-shirt as she pressed into him. His hand moved from her face to her neck, his fingers plunging into her hair as his palm held her head.

  Her lips parted, and he lost himself in the sensual glide of her tongue as he inhaled her, stealing her breath in a rush of hunger and heat. Their tongues tangled in a decadent promise of more as she gave back equal parts of passion and demand.

  She tasted like honeysuckle and summer and everything good he’d ever wanted. And he couldn’t get enough. He wanted to press her against the barn wall and take his fill. Then he wanted to carry her into the house, toss her into bed, and strip her out of those tiny cut-off shorts before peeling off that hot-pink bikini top—with his teeth.

  His body flushed hot, the heat coursing through his veins as he savored the taste of her mouth, the feel of her breasts pressed against his chest. Her back arched as her fingers dug into his shoulders. When she let out the softest sigh of bliss against his lips, he thought he would completely come undone.

  The rest of the world fell away, and it was only him and Bryn locked in this incredible moment, her arms wrapped around him and her chest pressed to his. Nothing else mattered…except the sound of an engine as a truck pulled into the driveway and tooted the horn.

  Damn it.

  Zane pulled away, dropping his arms as he tried to reorient himself. His breath, ragged, caught in his chest as he recognized the pickup. Dr. Brody. Of course.

  Of course the universe would pick this moment for Brody to drive up, to remind Zane that he wasn’t the one for Bryn. That she needed someone different, someone better. That he would never be enough for someone like her.

  It didn’t matter that her eyes were wide as she stared at him, or that her chest was heaving as she tried to catch her breath, or that her lips were swollen from being thoroughly kissed.

  She blinked, not saying anything, but kept her gaze trained on his, as if waiting for him to speak.

  But he had nothing to say. No words of encouragement, no undying oath of love, no warning of how this would never work. He could only stare back at her and wish things were different. Wish he were different.

  The truck doors slammed, and Brody’s voice called through the barn. “Bryn?”

  “We’re out here,” she answered.

  Zane turned toward the barn, and his eye caught on two gray squares affixed to the walls above the corners of the door. “What the hell are those?” He pointed to the squares.

  “Oh, I forgot to tell you. They’re cameras.”

  “Cameras?” He ducked his head, automatically turning the scarred side of his face away. “How long have those been there?” How had he not noticed them before?

  “Not long. We just put them up yesterday.”

  “What the hell do you need cameras for? Nobody even wanted these horses. Now you think someone’s going to steal them?”

  “No, they’re not that kind of camera. They’re like webcams. It was Tess’s idea. She loaned me the cameras and helped me set them up. They’re linked to a Facebook account and show a live view of the horses. It’s a marketing strategy to help get donations for their food and care.”

  He lifted his hat and scrubbed a hand through his hair. “So you’re telling me you’ve set up cameras and invited half the world onto your farm to watch you all day every day. You might as well have included an invitation calling all perverts and stalkers.”

  “It’s not half the world. I honestly doubt we’ll even get five people who care to tune in.” She planted her hands on her hips, her voice rising in indignation. “And what kind of a weird pervert would get off on watching a couple of horses walk around the corral?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “They won’t be looking at the horses. But they will tune in to watch the gorgeous woman who’s taking care of them.”

  She blinked, and a slight pink colored her cheeks. “I think you’re overreacting. Besides, we only have the cameras scheduled to turn on and do a livestream feed for a few hours each afternoon.”

  “Well, I have zero interest in being on any kind of camera, so just make damn sure they’re not on when I’m around.” He regretted the harshness of his tone as she took a step back, but the rest of their conversation was cut off as Mandy squealed from the doorway of the barn.

  “Oh my gosh, isn’t he the cutest?” the girl cried, running up to Bryn and Zane, the heels of her boots kicking up little clouds of dust as she ran. “When did you get a mini-horse?”

  Bryn laughed and looked at her wrist where a watch might be. “About two or three hours ago.”

  “Can I pet him?”

  “Sure. Just be careful. His name is Shamus, and he seems like a sweetheart, but we don’t know much about him or how he reacts around kids.”

  Shamus was already trotting toward Mandy. “Where did he come from?”

  “He was tied to my porch when we got home this afternoon with a note that his owner couldn’t keep him anymore.”

  The girl mock pouted. “That is now my number one wish for life—that someone would leave a miniature horse tied to my doorstep. Well, right after an owl drops off my admissions letter to Hogwarts.”

  Bryn chuckled. “I’m still waiting for my letter too.”

  The girl ran her hands over the horse’s neck, and he leaned in, obviously enjoying the affection. “Who would give this baby away?”

  “He’s not a baby,” Zane said, his mouth twisting into a scowl. “By the looks of his teeth, he’s a middle-aged man, and they tend to eat a lot and get grumpier as they age.” At least that’s what his dad had done.

  Mandy frowned.

  “But he seems to like you,” Zane told her, softening his tone and forcing his lips into a smile as he tugged on the end of the girl’s ponytail. “He used to belong to another girl, so maybe you remind him of her.”

  “Well, I think he’s adorable.” She hugged his neck as her dad stepped into the corral.

  “Another one?” Brody asked Bryn. “It appears you really are starting a horse rescue ranch.”

  She tilted her head as she studied the horses, then turned back to the vet. “It appears I am.”

  “Now all you need is a name.”

 
“Oh, we can work on one tonight,” Mandy said. “Did you remember I’m spending the night?”

  “Of course I remember. I already stocked the freezer with ice cream.”

  A broad grin spread across the girl’s face. “I brought snacks too. I made Dad stop at the grocery store on the way here.”

  “Hope you like Sour Patch Kids, Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups, and Cheetos,” Brody said.

  Bryn laughed. “Those are some of my favorites. Maybe not the sour things, but I could eat Cheetos all day long.”

  “How about all night long?” he asked. “Although I told her she still needs to go to bed at a decent hour and not keep you up too late.”

  “Da-a-d,” Mandy admonished, rolling her eyes as she looked at Bryn.

  “He just doesn’t understand how slumber parties work,” Bryn said, earning a grin as she winked at the girl.

  “I don’t think I want to know.” Brody ruffled the hair of his daughter. “Just try to be on your best behavior. All right, kiddo?”

  “We’ll be fine,” Bryn assured him. “Have fun at your conference. Don’t worry about us.”

  He checked his watch. “I should probably head out. You want me to look at the new addition before I go?”

  “Nah. You should get on the road before you hit too much traffic. But I’d appreciate you checking him out tomorrow when you pick Mandy up.”

  “Will do.” He waved a hand at his daughter. “Let’s get your stuff, squirt.”

  Zane watched the three of them head into the barn, a hard knot settling in his chest. They looked like they could already be a family. They were so easy with each other the way they joked and teased. And Bryn and Mandy could pass for mother and daughter with their blond ponytails and their familiar manner of bending their heads together to speak.

  He wished he could leave, just get in his truck and keep driving. But he had the new part for Bryn’s car, and he’d told her he would install it tonight. Besides, the quicker he got her car up and running again, the fewer excuses he’d have to come see her or offer her a ride.