The Start of Something Good

  Fascinated, Mia tilted her head. At first, she'd thought Ophelia was simple. She was the perfect hostess, organized, and always easygoing. But the more Mia chatted with her, she realized how many layers the woman hid underneath her graceful facade.

  The words popped out of her mouth without thought. "What about your story? Do you ever wish you could leave here and experience something different?"

  A shadow fell over her face, but it evaporated like fog being swallowed up by the woods. "I did once, a long time ago. But things happened, and I realized I was better off here. Carrying on my mother's legacy."

  Mia's heart panged. "It was a boy, wasn't it?"

  Ophelia laughed, the sound tinkling like wind chimes. "It's always a boy."

  They shared a smile, and the bond between them deepened. It was nice to have another woman to talk to, and Ophelia was trustworthy. Her truthfulness practically shimmered around her. "I'm going to head into town; do you need anything?" Mia asked.

  "No, but why don't you and Chloe join us for dinner again tonight?"

  "We'd love that. Chloe's dad will be up here this weekend--you have him down for a reservation, right?"

  "Yes, he's all set. Let me know if you need anything."

  "Thanks, Ophelia." She filled up her water bottle and headed out to the porch. It was funny, she'd expected to be going stark-raving mad by now, but she'd begun to settle in a bit. The inn wasn't as bad as she'd originally thought. Even Gabby said she didn't seem to be as high-strung over the phone. Maybe it really was the fresh air out here. Almost like a detox.

  A loud squawking interrupted her thoughts. Hei Hei bum-rushed her at high speed and crashed into her bare shins, screeching with chicken delight. She jumped back, trying to gain precious space.

  "Why are you stalking me?" she yelled. "I don't like you, remember? And stop rubbing your feathers over me, it freaks me out."

  The chicken bobbed his crazy head feathers in the air and circled her legs, continuing to rub against her in some type of fowl affection. Ugh. Lately she couldn't get rid of him. He followed her everywhere, trailing her steps and stalking the inn for when she'd reappear outside.

  "I mean it, you need to go find another chicken to hang out with. This isn't a healthy relationship."

  "He's bonded with you."

  The gravelly, masculine voice stroked her ears. Her thighs squeezed in reaction, as if he'd just stroked her core. Why did her body get all needy and weak around this man? And why did their connection seem to be getting stronger, as if every word and look were leading her further down the path of something that both terrified and excited her?

  "I didn't ask for a chicken mate," she shot back, a bit cranky at the way his body moved so gracefully, even with his damaged leg. His T-shirt clung to his body, damp with sweat, emphasizing massive biceps and lean muscles her fingers ached to stroke. The cleft in his jaw was deadly, and those full lips seemed carved out of a Michelangelo statue in sensual perfection. Oh, how she wished he'd kept his beard.

  "Yet, you cast a spell on poor Hei Hei, so now he belongs to you."

  The words seethed with underlying meaning and sexual tension. These games were getting dangerous. Ever since that fateful weekend of cupcake eating and humming "Dancing Queen" together, things had heated up. Who could've imagined they'd bond by chaperoning senior citizens on a party bus? She was still disappointed in Ethel for sneaking in those Jell-O shots and getting tipsy at the play. Mia had expected so much more from her.

  But it was the kiss that haunted her. Because if they hadn't been interrupted, Mia was pretty sure she wouldn't have protested if he dragged her off to his bed. In fact, she'd probably have been the one doing the dragging.

  She'd never experienced such a powerful connection with a man on both a mental and physical scale. In his presence, her body slammed into high alert . . . but even worse?

  She relished their conversations. Sarcasm had now turned to flirty banter with seething undertones of foreplay. When she'd caught him humming some of the ABBA songs under his breath, it had taken everything she had not to crawl onto his lap and ravish him. As if catching her thoughts, at that exact moment, he'd turned to her with a wicked smirk. And done the worst thing possible to seal her fate.

  He'd held her hand. Just reached over and entangled her fingers within his warm, strong grip. For the rest of the play, all her attention focused on the absent stroke of his thumb on her palm, the shivered shooting through her body as he caressed her crazily pounding pulse point. The bastard was seducing her at a Mama Mia play after feeding her luscious cupcakes and kissing her like the last woman on Earth.

  How was she supposed to fight it?

  Mia tried to rally and shot out her response. "Hei Hei will have to learn early that some things are not meant to be."

  His bottom lip lifted in a half smile that was sexy as hell. He shifted closer, until just a foot of space lay between them. Her heart thundered, but she made sure her expression remained casual and neutral. She absolutely refused to pant over him like a mare in heat. Even though those rock-hard thighs encased in worn denim were completely mouthwatering. "He's hopeful. And determined." The chicken seemed to sense he was being talked about and butted his beak against her leg again. Ethan cocked out his hip and regarded her with a heated gaze. "He can be awfully persuasive."

  "We are so not talking about Hei Hei."

  Suddenly, he was looming over her. The primal scents of man, earth, and sweat rose to her nostrils, teasing a small moan from her chest. She swallowed it back just in time. Pure satisfaction carved out the lines of his features. He reached out and trailed one rough index finger down her cheek. "Then what are we talking about, princess?" he drawled.

  "Sex," she spit out. Why was the inside of her body burning up? "We're talking about sex, horse man. And you know it."

  "Sex, huh?" That finger traced the outline of her mouth, skating over the flesh in light, teasing strokes. Her body swayed forward, caught in a spell. "Then let's talk about sex." He raked his stinging-blue gaze over her face, as if memorizing every curve and line, pausing to dive deep to see what lay beneath. "You're shaking, and I haven't even really touched you," he whispered. "You're making me crazy."

  A strangled laugh escaped her lips. "I'm not the one burning hot and cold. We'd be disastrous together."

  "Not in the bedroom."

  She fought a shudder. "I leave in a few weeks, back to my life. I don't do well with meaningless affairs."

  In full daylight, he closed the space between them, sliding his hands from her shoulders down her arms to entangle her fingers within his. It was an intimate, sensuous gesture, firing off images of him doing that fully naked, exploring every part of her body, pleasuring her with his tongue and teeth and lips. "I don't do meaningless affairs, either," he growled, pressing his mouth against her ear, nipping at her sensitive lobe. Her body melted like hot caramel, helpless under his touch. Damn. He was becoming a master at turning from the rude, irritating man she disliked to this master of seduction. "But we have the rest of the summer to get to know one another. Enjoy each other. Do you know how many ways I've fantasized about making you come, Mia?"

  Oh. My. God. She shuddered. His tongue licked the shell of her ear, hot and wet. Shivers bumped on her skin. "No," she squeaked out.

  "There's too many to explain. I'd rather show you." Her knees gave out, and he caught her, a wicked laugh rumbling from his chest. "My sweet little tigress. Are you listening to my proposal?"

  She blinked, wondering when her brain cells had decided to check out on a permanent vacation. "Proposal?"

  "Yes. I want you for the rest of my summer. Naked. In my bed. I want to take you out and enjoy the last few weeks you're here. You've gotten under my skin, Mia. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

  "You want a lot of sex?"

  His chuckle warmed her. He tugged her closer and pressed kisses down her cheeks, soft and tender, making her feel so cherished, she didn't know what to do with all of the crazy rioting
emotions flooding through her. "Yes, but more. Much more."

  Her hands curled into his broad chest, savoring this brief, perfect moment before her mind clicked into overdrive. "This could be dangerous. We need to accept it's only temporary. I don't want anyone to get hurt."

  "Me neither. I'm not good for anyone long term right now. I like being back on the farm, taking things slow, figuring stuff out. And I know your life is in the city, where I no longer belong. But I can't get you out of my head. Your scent and taste and voice. I want more of you."

  Pure longing crashed over her. She looked deep into his eyes, searching for the lie, and found just the raw, gleaming, naked truth.

  He meant every word.

  The sexual chemistry took hold and twisted sharp between them, all that seething male hunger demanding she surrender. Her eyes half closed, and she took a deep breath. His head lowered. Their lips stopped an inch apart, and her entire body shuddered with longing. Yes. She'd do it. She'd say yes. She'd--

  "Think about it."

  Before she could process, he'd already stepped back, hands tucked in his pocket, rocking back on his heels like nothing had happened. Her skin flushed. How dare he proposition her and then calmly step away like her answer wasn't a big deal?

  She narrowed her gaze. "I need some time." Thank goodness, her voice was steady with a touch of chill. Like she'd never even been tempted to jump into his arms and have him take her to bed.

  "Of course." Even with the space between them, his leashed sexual energy whipped out at her in waves, trying to pull her back in. "I won't push, but you should know I'm used to getting what I want."

  His arrogance stole her breath. She stuck her chin in the air. "So am I. You won't be able to push for anything I haven't decided to give."

  He laughed, shaking his head. "Damn, you're hot. You're safe for now, princess. I'll check in with you later. Come on, Hei Hei."

  The chicken gazed at his master, let out a screech, and inched his way back toward Mia. For some strange reason, satisfaction curled through her. "Just leave him with me," she said. "If he pisses me off, we'll have a nice barbeque."

  Hei Hei bobbed his crazy head and practically cooed.

  Ethan studied her for a moment, then slowly nodded. "Have fun." He sauntered away, that magnificent rear framed perfectly in his tight jeans, the slightest limp evident only when she paid close attention.

  She let out a sigh. "He wants a summer affair," she said aloud. "And I'm not sure I can say no."

  Hei Hei cocked his head and regarded her thoughtfully.

  "Forget it. I cannot believe I'm talking to a chicken." She started walking, and Hei Hei followed. She glanced back. "Don't peck any of Ophelia's flowers, or you'll be sent back to the bungalow and Wheezy."

  Damned if the fowl didn't nod.

  This was certainly becoming a strange type of summer.

  Chapter Fifteen

  "We got a new horse."

  Ethan kept his focus on rebuilding the portion of fence that kept collapsing. Harper stood to the side, hands tucked in the back pockets of her jeans, an intent look on her face. Flower, a sweet little gray filly, trotted over to push her nose to the back of Ethan's neck, insisting on attention. When he refused to give either female what she wanted, they both let out an irritated snort.

  "Are you going to answer me?" the human one demanded.

  "Good for you. A potential sale or racing investment?" His sister had been dabbling with various horses for the racing industry, but she was set on finding the proper trainer and horse to match. So far, nothing had given her what she needed.

  "Not sure. He's a Thoroughbred. Saved him from the slaughterhouse."

  "Must be a bad one."

  "He is. A real pain in the ass. Black as midnight, with lighthearted hooves meant for running and eyes like fire. But he's messed up inside. Too many ghosts to flush out before we see the potential." She paused delicately. "He needs some help."

  Ethan picked up the hammer and began resecuring the posts and wood. No way. He refused to engage in his sister's plot. Once, a long time ago, he'd had a gift but decided to pursue saving humans instead of horses. He'd failed spectacularly and wasn't about to take on a new project. Not in his current state.

  The nightmares still came. His leg still throbbed. He'd gotten off the phone last night with Billy--an old teammate--and had been plagued by what-ifs and a pool of regrets. Being responsible for a broken horse would not be good for him right now.

  Being responsible for anyone would be a huge mistake.

  Seems his sister disagreed.

  "Ethan, I need help."

  He dropped the hammer in frustration and swiped at his brow. "Harp, I can't help you with a fucked-up horse. I'm not the kid who once believed he could change things."

  "Bullshit. You're just scared to try. Just meet him. Please. Give him an assessment. An idea of what to do that may help. That's all I'm asking."

  They glowered at each other in a pissed-off sibling contest they were masters of. "Fine, but I'm not promising anything. Don't put me in some screwed-up role as horse whisperer. I'm no fucking Redford."

  She made a face. "Never said you were. Mia's right. You do have an ego."

  He shook his head. "Had no idea you both have gotten so chummy."

  Harper shot him a cheeky grin. "Just a chat here and there. You like her."

  "Are we in kindergarten?"

  "I caught the way you looked at her. It was cute."

  He gave her a dirty look and walked past. Flower reached out to nip at his hair, dancing around him for attention. He gave her a quick rub. "I refuse to discuss this further. I once parachuted into enemy territory, broke my arm landing wrong in a tree, ran eight miles, and still managed to extract the target to safety. I'm not cute."

  "Sure you are. And why did you land wrong in the tree? Didn't they give you training in Special Forces?"

  "You're a real ballbuster, Harp. I pity the guy you fall for."

  She laughed, her long legs matching his stride as they headed toward the barn. "I'm more interested in the four-legged kind who will love and adore me without playing dumb games."

  "Not all guys are like the assholes in school. There are good ones out there."

  "Not related to me?"

  He knew she made a joke, but he worried about Harper the most. She was so focused on the horses and rescue operation, she'd isolated herself, preferring her own company along with the animals. At least Ophelia was surrounded by guests from the inn. Not that he was one to judge the level of normalcy or happiness. He'd been stranded on an island of one for a while and was just starting to poke his head out of the sand.

  Mia had helped.

  The thought of her brought a rush of excitement. She'd pushed him to engage, not even knowing what she was doing. She lit his body up and made him feel alive again. She heard his story and didn't give a crap or treat him differently.

  He wondered if she'd take him up on his offer of a hot summer affair.

  He intended to tempt her in any way he could.

  They reached the barn, and he said hello to each of the horses. Some butted their heads out of the stalls to greet him, some kept their attention on munching hay or leftover carrots but pricked their ears up in acknowledgment. He'd forgotten what it was like to gain a horse's affection. They were so unlike dogs--testing their owners to prove their love and competence and loyalty before committing their hearts. Ethan respected the mighty breed, who could mimic the wind and allow humans to feel like gods for a short time while riding on their backs.

  "I kept him in Barn Five in the paddock, but I isolated him for now. Not sure how he'll react with the other horses yet." She tapped the door and gave a low whistle, her habit whenever she greeted a horse in its space. It gave them a sense of routine and respect for approach. "Hey, buddy," she cooed. "I'm back. I want you to meet Ethan. He's my brother, and he'd like to take a look at you, if you'll let him."

  The horse backed up and snorted in warning. His
whole body quivered with pent-up nervous energy, and the choppy aura of fear and adrenaline pumped out in waves. Ethan rested his hands on the door and regulated his breathing, channeling a calmness for both of them.

  "Aren't you a pretty one?" he said in a deep, soothing voice. "Understandable to be skittish, especially after an escape from slaughter. I'd be pissed off, too."

  The horse pawed at the ground, walking in tight circles as if trying to gain his bearings. The paddock was pretty large, with enough space for the horse to run in brief bursts of speed, but it was also safe until they figured out what he needed. Ethan's gaze took in his lean body and dancing hooves. A real beauty. Definitely undernourished and scared shitless. But this one didn't seem like he was broken--his aura was too bright. Ethan kept talking in the same tone for a while, and suddenly, the horse tossed his head and met his gaze head-on.

  Ethan caught his breath. Those dark, knowing wide eyes burned with a fierceness and fire that pegged him as a fighter. A survivor. Oh yeah, there was abuse and broken trust. But this one hadn't given up.

  He reared up in one magnificent fuck you, then tossed his head again to stomp away.

  "Told ya," Harper said.

  "Triggers?"

  "Loud noises. Impossible to get into the trailer. Quick motions. Not sure how he was used or the history, which makes it more difficult."

  "Biter? Kicker?"

  "If you approach from the side. I took my time from the front and was finally able to get him in. He needs a name."

  He turned back to the horse, studying the matted mane and too-skinny body and hellfire eyes that had seen too much pain.

  Phoenix.

  He must've said it aloud because Harp nodded. "A good name. Can you help me?"

  It'd be a long road, but he had an instinct about this horse. There were never guarantees, but he deserved a chance. Something deep inside reared up, demanding to be seen, and Ethan gripped the edge of the door in a rush of raw emotion. There was something about that horse that affected him. The horse needed help.

  The pain slammed into him, buckling his knee as Aresh's lifeless eyes flashed before him. He reached down to rub it away, forcing the image aside.

  Ethan stepped back from the horse, turning away. "I can't, Harp. I'm sorry."