Last Second Chance by Caisey Quinn Page B

never could.”
    She felt her eyes go wide. “You what?”
    “It was dumb. And pointless. I see that now.” A small smile tugged at his lips. “Apparently the lead singer from Hostage for Ransom has much more of an effect on you than I ever could.”
    “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Nash. I need to get back to work. But please, do me a favor and don’t mention to anyone that you saw him here.”
    Placing her hands on the table, she pushed herself backward and away from the accusations that had hit way too close to home.
    “Stella, wait. Hear me out. Please.”
    She froze, intrigued by Nash’s powers of observation and also terrified by them. If he’d figured her out in five seconds, how long would it be until everyone else did?
    “I didn’t mean to upset you. Well, not just now anyway. The truth is, while it doesn’t do much for my ego, it’s kind of nice to see that someone has finally gotten to you. Frankly, I’m a little jealous.”
    Stella shook her head. “I-it’s not like that. He’s a patient, um, a client here. I’d get fired,” she said barely above a whisper.
    “Can I be honest with you?”
    She nodded.
    “I hated that I wasn’t the guy for you and that when I found the girl for me, it hurt you—or it would’ve hurt you if you would’ve let it. What I’m trying to say is, I wish things had happened differently. But what I have with Tess…” For a few seconds, his gaze drifted. Then he shrugged again and met her stare. “Some sins are worth it.”
     
    “I bathed them today. Mother Maybelle rolled in the dirt immediately after.” Jesse Ramirez let out an exasperated sigh. “Shadowdancer told me to keep my soapy sponge to my damn self unless I wanted his hoof prints branded across my face.”
    Stella Jo laughed for the first time in what felt like an excruciatingly long day. She raised a hand to her eyes and squinted toward where Jesse stood in front of the setting Texas sun. “I’ll see what I can do. Maybe he’ll at least let me rinse him off.”
    “Good luck with that.”
    After they said their goodbyes, Stella headed into her little bungalow and switched her work clothes for cut-offs and an old, faded oxford shirt. She pulled her riding boots on and tied her hair into a messy bun before heading to the stables. Washing Shadowdancer was going to be quite the event.
    Her patience for difficult men was already at its limit for the day as it was.
    She had a plan for Shadowdancer, but she was pretty sure he wasn’t going to like it. It involved tying him to his stall so he couldn’t stomp around or rear back on her while she was washing him down.
    Now if only she could tie Van Ransom up and make him tell her what went on behind those conflicted stares of his. Sometimes he looked like he wanted to eat her alive, and others he looked like she made him regret being alive. But every now and then, like today when she’d told him she’d take that woman off his contact sheet, he looked at her with gratitude in his eyes. Eyes that darkened in a way that sent images of them tangled up in each other straight to the deep recesses of her wildest imagination.
    “He’s not going to like that,” the man from her imagination called out as she looped the rope around a slat of Shadowdancer’s stall.
    Stella focused on her breathing, hoping he wouldn’t notice how much just his voice alone had rattled her.
    “You’re the expert on what he likes?” She had to admit that the dark horse had backed into the farthest possible corner of his stall. Both of them were looking at her like she’d lost her mind. “Since when do you even like horses?”
    “I’m a man. I know we don’t like to be tied.”
    Now there was a mental image she’d be recalling later.
    “Well that’s too bad. I had such big plans for you.” Stella was aiming for teasing, but her words carried the irritation she felt. She wanted to throw her hands up, kick the bucket of soapy water over, and tell Van to do