My Stallion Heart (The Stallions Book 7) by Deborah Fletcher Mello Page B

overwhelmingly annoying.
    That, and there was something about his lack of personal hygiene that was repulsive. His mouth was a disaster area, teeth twisted, one or two missing, and the coloration, a garish shade of yellow, was off-putting to the point of distraction.
    His referring to her as his fiancée at the last social event they’d attended together had been the final straw. Marrying Jean-Paul was not on her personal radar, the man coming nowhere close to being a man she could see herself doing forever with. She’d begun to push him away, refusing to take his calls and ignoring him publicly. Her efforts had only served to further fuel his interest.
    She shrugged dismissively. “What about him?”
    Her friend’s expression was teasing as she crossed her arms over her chest. “So, it’s like that now?”
    “It’s been like that for a while and you know it. I am not interested in Jean-Paul.”
    “I don’t think Jean-Paul is ready to be dismissed like that.”
    Natalie shrugged again, her eyes rolling. “That’s his problem. Not mine. Besides, I know for a fact he attended the Met Gala in New York with some new hip-hop artist. Jean-Paul has moved on just like he should have.”
    “He didn’t go with her. They were just photographed together.”
    “Whatever. It’s not my concern.”
    Frenchie sat staring at her for a brief moment.
    “What?”
    “Nothing.”
    “I didn’t think so,” Natalie quipped and the two women laughed heartily.
    They continued to catch up with each other, their conversation peppered with one-liners and laughter. The discourse was comfortable and Natalie felt at ease with her best friend. She was excited to catch her up on the details of her meeting Tinjin and as she shared the experience, she found herself grinning from ear to ear, the memories like the sweetest balm across her spirit.
    * * *
    Hours later Natalie was still riding the clouds of a very happy high. She stole a quick glance toward her clock radio as she slipped between her bedsheets. She reached for her cell phone and dialed Tinjin, his number programmed on her speed dial. The phone rang twice and then a third time before Tinjin answered, breathing heavily into the receiver.
    “So what were you doing?” Natalie questioned. She pulled her knees to her chest as she settled her back against the bed pillows.
    “I was cutting grass,” Tinjin said. “With a push mower and it is exceptionally hot here in Texas.”
    Natalie smiled. “Awww! How sweet you are, helping out your grandmother.”
    “I don’t know about all that. I know I wasn’t expecting to work quite this hard on vacation,” he said with a wry laugh.
    “Well, I like your grandmother and I enjoyed talking to her on the phone the other day. I can’t wait to meet her.”
    “Mama Dee can’t wait to meet you, too. So, what are you doing?”
    “Headed to bed. I have a long day tomorrow.”
    “That sounds interesting.”
    “It really isn’t. I’ll be running errands in the morning and then I have a photo shoot in the afternoon.”
    Tinjin nodded. “My plane leaves at seven tonight. Barring any bad weather in New York, my international connection should leave just before midnight and put me in London sometime before nine o’clock in the morning.”
    “Well, let’s hope you don’t get snowed in.”
    “I’m keeping my fingers crossed,” Tinjin said. There was a moment’s hesitation as he listened to her breathing on the other end. Her breath was a soft inhale and exhalation, her calm energy wafting through the receiver. “So, you’re cooking dinner for me tomorrow night, right?” Tinjin asked.
    Natalie laughed, the wealth of it like a sweet jingle against Tinjin’s ear.
    He smiled widely. “Why are you laughing? I’m being serious.”
    “I told you I was not cooking for you ever. That train has pulled out of the station.”
    Tinjin laughed this time. “You never said you were never ever going to cook for me.”
    “I know what I said. You