you'll see yourselves out, I have work to do. Unlike your privileged brother's place, my ranch doesn't run itself."
Serena was still fuming when the SUV reached the end of the driveway and drove out of sight. As part of her rental agreement she'd agreed to ride Paul's daughter's horse a couple of times a week. When better than now, she thought, yanking the cinch tight around Skipper's belly. She'd pay her neighbor a visit and give him a piece of her mind.
CHAPTER 7
––––––––
"F ine. Yes. I'll do it." He listened a moment longer. "Mom, I can handle it. They're kids, not insurgents."
His mother had called to ask Austen to supervise his nieces and nephews at Paul's house this afternoon so she and Dad could have a little break. No problem. Paul had a great pool, and how hard could it be to referee four kids for a couple of hours?
"I'll be there at two, he said before hanging up.
He glanced at his watch. What was Serena doing? Would she have time to take a break and go with him?
"No," he muttered, pulling on his board shorts. He had to quit thinking about Serena. Bad enough he slept with her every night—in his dreams. Last night, they were swimming in a pool without sides. The concept made him nervous. Boundaries were what gave things depth and stability. Serena understood and showed him that the walls of the pool existed but were invisible. Using a giant needle and alpaca yarn, she helped him stitch a beautiful, rainbow-hued border around the pool.
Then, they made love. With slow, purposeful finesse.
"Feel better now?" she'd asked when they clung to each other, replete. "This will last a lifetime because alpaca wool gets stronger when it's wet."
When he woke this morning, that question was the first thing he would have asked if she'd been in his bed. "Is alpaca fiber stronger when it's wet?"
He had no idea if that was true.
Why did calling her sound like such a good idea when it really wasn't?
He'd just finished packing a change of clothing into his gym bag when Stuart's Queensland Heelers, Jessie and Blue, started raising a ruckus.
He glanced out his bedroom window but didn't see anyone pulling into the compound. Concerned that something might have happened to one of the animals, he pulled an orange tank top over his swim trunks, shoved his feet into a pair of sandals and hurried out the back door.
A familiar-looking pinto danced skittishly as the two dogs continued to bark. The rider seemed to have the situation in hand, dismounting with grace.
"Serena."
A sweet, delicious feeling blossomed inside him. A smile appeared like magic on his lips. Only the fact he was wearing flip-flops kept him from breaking into a run.
"Hey, neighbor," he hollered, signaling to Stuart to call off his dogs.
A whistle cut the air and both dogs took off for the barn.
Serena followed the sound, shielding her eyes. She smiled and waved her thanks to his foreman then looped Skipper's reins around a metal post, leaving enough length for him to drink from the water trough.
"This is a nice surprise. How are you?"
"I'm good. Or, rather, I was until your sister decided I'd make the perfect poster child for your next PR campaign."
"Huh?" He couldn't wrap his head around her words because, honestly, lust had flat-out set off a buzzing sensation in way too many parts of his brain and body.
Images from his dream flitted across the mini-screen in his mind. Memories of making love with her surfaced as brilliantly as if they'd just done the deed. A warm breeze blew up his shorts reminding him just how easy it would be to get naked and make love with her again.
But the stern teacher look on her face shot down his fantasies, like a mid-air collision in some big screen, high budget film. "I. Am. Not. A. Victim," she stated succinctly.
Those five words came in loud and clear. "I know that."
"Then, why does your family think you're hiding out here playing cowboy and I'd make the perfect rehabilitation project to get you back
Serena was still fuming when the SUV reached the end of the driveway and drove out of sight. As part of her rental agreement she'd agreed to ride Paul's daughter's horse a couple of times a week. When better than now, she thought, yanking the cinch tight around Skipper's belly. She'd pay her neighbor a visit and give him a piece of her mind.
CHAPTER 7
––––––––
"F ine. Yes. I'll do it." He listened a moment longer. "Mom, I can handle it. They're kids, not insurgents."
His mother had called to ask Austen to supervise his nieces and nephews at Paul's house this afternoon so she and Dad could have a little break. No problem. Paul had a great pool, and how hard could it be to referee four kids for a couple of hours?
"I'll be there at two, he said before hanging up.
He glanced at his watch. What was Serena doing? Would she have time to take a break and go with him?
"No," he muttered, pulling on his board shorts. He had to quit thinking about Serena. Bad enough he slept with her every night—in his dreams. Last night, they were swimming in a pool without sides. The concept made him nervous. Boundaries were what gave things depth and stability. Serena understood and showed him that the walls of the pool existed but were invisible. Using a giant needle and alpaca yarn, she helped him stitch a beautiful, rainbow-hued border around the pool.
Then, they made love. With slow, purposeful finesse.
"Feel better now?" she'd asked when they clung to each other, replete. "This will last a lifetime because alpaca wool gets stronger when it's wet."
When he woke this morning, that question was the first thing he would have asked if she'd been in his bed. "Is alpaca fiber stronger when it's wet?"
He had no idea if that was true.
Why did calling her sound like such a good idea when it really wasn't?
He'd just finished packing a change of clothing into his gym bag when Stuart's Queensland Heelers, Jessie and Blue, started raising a ruckus.
He glanced out his bedroom window but didn't see anyone pulling into the compound. Concerned that something might have happened to one of the animals, he pulled an orange tank top over his swim trunks, shoved his feet into a pair of sandals and hurried out the back door.
A familiar-looking pinto danced skittishly as the two dogs continued to bark. The rider seemed to have the situation in hand, dismounting with grace.
"Serena."
A sweet, delicious feeling blossomed inside him. A smile appeared like magic on his lips. Only the fact he was wearing flip-flops kept him from breaking into a run.
"Hey, neighbor," he hollered, signaling to Stuart to call off his dogs.
A whistle cut the air and both dogs took off for the barn.
Serena followed the sound, shielding her eyes. She smiled and waved her thanks to his foreman then looped Skipper's reins around a metal post, leaving enough length for him to drink from the water trough.
"This is a nice surprise. How are you?"
"I'm good. Or, rather, I was until your sister decided I'd make the perfect poster child for your next PR campaign."
"Huh?" He couldn't wrap his head around her words because, honestly, lust had flat-out set off a buzzing sensation in way too many parts of his brain and body.
Images from his dream flitted across the mini-screen in his mind. Memories of making love with her surfaced as brilliantly as if they'd just done the deed. A warm breeze blew up his shorts reminding him just how easy it would be to get naked and make love with her again.
But the stern teacher look on her face shot down his fantasies, like a mid-air collision in some big screen, high budget film. "I. Am. Not. A. Victim," she stated succinctly.
Those five words came in loud and clear. "I know that."
"Then, why does your family think you're hiding out here playing cowboy and I'd make the perfect rehabilitation project to get you back
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