McKettricks of Texas: Austin by Linda Lael Miller Page A

might have been flustered; there was no telling, since he couldn’t really see her face and her tone of voice wasn’t giving away much of anything. “Earlier, when you lifted Calvin so he could pet the horse?”
    â€œOh, that,” Austin said. He splayed the fingers of his right hand and pushed them through his hair, just to be doing something other than grabbing Paige Remington by the shoulders and kissing her until her knees buckled. Right then, that was about all he wanted to do.
    She saved him from temptation by stepping away to stand in front of Molly’s stall door. There was enough light to see that the mare was on her feet, crunching away on the scoop of sweet feed Austin had given her just before cutting the lights.
    Molly wanted for some fattening up, and a few alfalfa pellets now and again would probably do the trick.
    Austin didn’t move from where he stood. This was one of those pivotal moments, he figured, where one wrong move could change the whole course of his life—and Paige’s, too.
    â€œWhat are you doing out here?” he asked. His voice was as rough as if he’d taken sandpaper to his vocal cords. “Right now, I mean. In the barn. This late and everything.”
    Her laugh was quiet, brittle. “I’m not sure,” she admitted.
    Some of the muscles in Austin’s lower back tightened ominously. Taking care not to make any wimpy sounds, he lowered himself to sit on the cot again and then questioned the wisdom of the move. What if he needed to get back up all of a sudden, and couldn’t?
    Damn, that would be a new low.
    Once again, Paige surprised him. She sat right down beside him, on top of his flannel-lined sleeping bag, close enough that their thighs touched.
    He’d felt a similar sensation once before, helping a ranch crew install electric fence lines, when he’d forgotten and closed his fingers around a live wire.
    She was the one who broke the silence; Austin wasn’t about to. “Molly’s doing okay, then?” she asked.
    â€œSo far, so good,” Austin managed, and then wishedhe’d cleared his throat first, because his answer came out sounding rusty.
    It soon became apparent that Paige had exhausted whatever reserves of diplomacy she might have had on hand. “But you figure you ought to sleep out here? In a barn? With a herniated disc?” She was really building up a head of steam now, and it was fascinating to watch. “It’s November, Austin.”
    Fools rush in, he thought ruefully, where angels fear to tread. If discretion was the better part of valor, he was just plain screwed in the valor department.
    He put his hands on either side of Paige’s face and he kissed her, tentatively at first. She stiffened, and Austin was prepared to back off, but then, in the next instant, the next heartbeat, she softened against him, and he deepened the kiss.
    He used his tongue and goddamn it was good. But then it happened.
    She shoved him away, hard.
    And then pushed both hands into her hair and paced back and forth in front of him, muttering to herself.
    Austin stood because she had, and the move was too sudden. His back seized up so ferociously that he groaned and doubled over.
    And then he couldn’t straighten back up.
    Paige caught her breath, stopped the pacing, hurried along the breezeway and flipped the first light switch she came to, causing the overheads to flare to life. Austin stayed where he was, flat-out incapable of doing anything else.
    Shep sat at his feet, the picture of canine goodwill, whisking his tail back and forth in the sawdust.
    Austin was still bent in the middle, like an old-fashioned hairpin.
    Paige returned, all professional now. Reaching Austin, she took his arm in a gentle hold. “Can you walk?” she asked.
    â€œHell, no, ” Austin responded, in pain and mortified that he was helpless in front of the last person in the world he wanted to think of him as