than he’d ever make.
And there was the
lifestyle of the track. That was where rarefied air truly existed. Greeting the
sunrise, breathing in the heavy early morning mist, dreaming of the next big
horse—that was what shedrow was about. The only scent rivaling that of shedrow
was the lavender of Maggie Anderson.
Ed shook his head
trying to clear it of her scent and taste. Hearing the light rap on his door,
he groaned. There wasn’t much doubt who that was, and she was likely madder
than a wet hen.
He opened the door.
Looking somewhat
hesitant and sheepish, Maggie asked, “May I come in?”
“Might as well,” Ed
said curtly, “you’re here.” Had the little woman come to read him the riot act,
or to apologize for her careless behavior earlier in the day? The latter was
unlikely. He wasn’t duped by her apparent meekness. Might as well start packing
his bags. It’d been a nice dream, but like so many dreams this one had turned
into a nightmare. He slumped back down into the winged chair without offering
her a seat.
Maggie remained
standing. “You look pretty haggard. Are you okay?”
“You don’t have to
worry about me climbing back into the bottle, if that’s what’s bothering you.”
“I’m worried about
you. I’m worried about all of us.” She folded her hands together, as if to
steady herself against the tension whirling between them. “We have to talk, you
know.”
Ed sighed. At least
she wasn’t going to fire him on the spot. Damn woman. Damn kids. Damn himself
for getting involved with them. Why couldn’t they listen when he told them to
be careful around the horses? Any one of them could be seriously maimed or
worse. “I know,” he finally replied. “Guess I overdid it some today. Sorry
about that. How’s Carolyn?”
“She’ll survive. We
all will,” Maggie said forcefully.
He shook himself. He
was close to falling over the edge. What the hell was wrong with him? Those
blue ovals staring narrowly at him looked so innocent and so filled with worry.
Had he ever had anyone this troubled over him? It made his skin crawl and his
heart crack open.
“Do you know why
she did it? Why she wasn’t wearing a bra?” Maggie inquired, bending over to
straighten some magazines on a small round table next to Ed’s chair.
Ed shook his head,
trying not to notice the casual bobbing of the woman’s breasts.
“She wanted you to
notice her.”
“What the…”
“Not so much
sexually. She seems to think you ignore her.”
“She’s sort of
difficult to ignore. Pretty, like her mother. I’d have her on a tight leash if
she were my daughter.” He regretted his remark as soon as it escaped his lips.
“You don’t think I’m
a good mother?” The calm voice belied the anger reflected in her twitching
cheek.
“It’s not that at
all,” he corrected quickly. “You’re a fantastic mom. But I’d make a damn poor
dad. Men are predators when it comes to women.”
“You don’t think we
women can defend ourselves?” Maggie asked, crossing her arms under her breasts.
“You might, but
Carolyn…”
“Most of us females
learn about the mating dance when we’re young. Many of us choose not to follow
all the steps until we’re older. In fact, I would suggest that women are often
in more control of that dance than men.”
“Oh.” Ed fumbled
with his fingers, not liking at all the direction of their conversation.
“Besides,” Maggie
chastised in a sultry tone, “women can be predators too. Don’t you agree?”
“Don’t know.” He
shrank inside his skin as the blonde pixie leaned over and brushed her lips
lightly against his.
“Don’t,” he
protested, and then her tongue touched his. There was that intoxicating
mulberry taste again. He floated in its familiarity as Maggie settled on his
lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. She was as light as a feather. He knew
she had to feel his erection pressing against her bottom. He felt her shift her
position to gain more
And there was the
lifestyle of the track. That was where rarefied air truly existed. Greeting the
sunrise, breathing in the heavy early morning mist, dreaming of the next big
horse—that was what shedrow was about. The only scent rivaling that of shedrow
was the lavender of Maggie Anderson.
Ed shook his head
trying to clear it of her scent and taste. Hearing the light rap on his door,
he groaned. There wasn’t much doubt who that was, and she was likely madder
than a wet hen.
He opened the door.
Looking somewhat
hesitant and sheepish, Maggie asked, “May I come in?”
“Might as well,” Ed
said curtly, “you’re here.” Had the little woman come to read him the riot act,
or to apologize for her careless behavior earlier in the day? The latter was
unlikely. He wasn’t duped by her apparent meekness. Might as well start packing
his bags. It’d been a nice dream, but like so many dreams this one had turned
into a nightmare. He slumped back down into the winged chair without offering
her a seat.
Maggie remained
standing. “You look pretty haggard. Are you okay?”
“You don’t have to
worry about me climbing back into the bottle, if that’s what’s bothering you.”
“I’m worried about
you. I’m worried about all of us.” She folded her hands together, as if to
steady herself against the tension whirling between them. “We have to talk, you
know.”
Ed sighed. At least
she wasn’t going to fire him on the spot. Damn woman. Damn kids. Damn himself
for getting involved with them. Why couldn’t they listen when he told them to
be careful around the horses? Any one of them could be seriously maimed or
worse. “I know,” he finally replied. “Guess I overdid it some today. Sorry
about that. How’s Carolyn?”
“She’ll survive. We
all will,” Maggie said forcefully.
He shook himself. He
was close to falling over the edge. What the hell was wrong with him? Those
blue ovals staring narrowly at him looked so innocent and so filled with worry.
Had he ever had anyone this troubled over him? It made his skin crawl and his
heart crack open.
“Do you know why
she did it? Why she wasn’t wearing a bra?” Maggie inquired, bending over to
straighten some magazines on a small round table next to Ed’s chair.
Ed shook his head,
trying not to notice the casual bobbing of the woman’s breasts.
“She wanted you to
notice her.”
“What the…”
“Not so much
sexually. She seems to think you ignore her.”
“She’s sort of
difficult to ignore. Pretty, like her mother. I’d have her on a tight leash if
she were my daughter.” He regretted his remark as soon as it escaped his lips.
“You don’t think I’m
a good mother?” The calm voice belied the anger reflected in her twitching
cheek.
“It’s not that at
all,” he corrected quickly. “You’re a fantastic mom. But I’d make a damn poor
dad. Men are predators when it comes to women.”
“You don’t think we
women can defend ourselves?” Maggie asked, crossing her arms under her breasts.
“You might, but
Carolyn…”
“Most of us females
learn about the mating dance when we’re young. Many of us choose not to follow
all the steps until we’re older. In fact, I would suggest that women are often
in more control of that dance than men.”
“Oh.” Ed fumbled
with his fingers, not liking at all the direction of their conversation.
“Besides,” Maggie
chastised in a sultry tone, “women can be predators too. Don’t you agree?”
“Don’t know.” He
shrank inside his skin as the blonde pixie leaned over and brushed her lips
lightly against his.
“Don’t,” he
protested, and then her tongue touched his. There was that intoxicating
mulberry taste again. He floated in its familiarity as Maggie settled on his
lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. She was as light as a feather. He knew
she had to feel his erection pressing against her bottom. He felt her shift her
position to gain more
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