took the spoon from her hand, dipped it into the ice cream carton, retrieved a big scoop and then stuck it into his mouth. Rich and cold, but he would rather taste the sweetness of her lips. “Yep,” he said, licking the spoon.
It took a moment for her to respond as she stared at his mouth. Was she thinking the same thing? Did she want him to kiss her?
The prettiest shade of pink dotted her cheeks when she caught herself staring. Clearing her throat, she straightened her backbone, which raised the hem of her shirt to give him a better look of her long legs. “It's late. Why are you here?"
Dropping the spoon back into the carton, he fished her telephone out of his pocket and held it out to her.
"Crap.” She grabbed the telephone. “Thank you. I was wondering where I had left it."
"No problem.” He started to step inside, but she move into his path.
There was a moment of uncomfortable silence. Their eyes locked.
"Well good-night."
If she thought she was getting rid of him so easily she'd better think again. “Your uncle called."
"Carl?"
"Something's wrong with one of his horses."
Her eyes softened with concern. “No."
"Get dressed.” He extracted the ice cream from her hand. Stepping past her, he headed toward the kitchen. “I'll take care of this and then haul you over there."
"That isn't necessary,” she insisted following, the dog hot on her heels.
"It sounded serious. You might want to hurry."
"Serious? What's wrong?"
He raised a brow. “We'll talk about it in the truck."
She frowned, hesitating as if she thought to argue with him, but in the end she turned and hurried off to the bedroom.
Dolan struck his thigh with a palm. “Come on, Foxy. Let's put this away."
The dog yipped, wagging her bushy tail and followed him into the kitchen.
The place looked like a hurricane had hit. Boxes lay strewn about, some open, some not. Crumpled newspaper was thrown around the room. Dishes, pots and pans, and knick-knacks covered the counter and butcher block table.
Trudy would have blown a gasket. She was always so neat and organized. Of course, he didn't know enough about Tracy to start making assumptions. Clearly she hadn't finished unpacking.
Opening the freezer, he chuckled. He set the ice cream down between three other gallons of the frozen dessert. Obviously she had a sweet tooth. He closed the refrigerator and started to unwrap a glass out of one of the boxes on the table. As he grabbed another, she came through the doorway dressed in jeans and a light sweatshirt. She held a black bag in her hand.
Her tennis shoe squealed against the tile floor as she turned. “Let's go."
The look on Uncle Carl's face said he was worried. Fast, agitated steps carried his stout frame toward the stables as she and Dolan followed. He threw open the barn doors with a little more strength than was necessary, causing them to crash against the sides of the barn. “She hasn't eaten. Seemed listless. Thought she was just anxious about her new surroundings. Now this.” He stopped before a corral.
Ice Princess's big brown eyes were dull. She looked confused as she gazed around. Her back legs quivered, too weak to hold her. Tracy opened the gate and stepped inside. The animal didn't stir or acknowledge her existence until she touched the horse's neck. Muscles twitch beneath her palms.
"Hey girl.” Tracy stroked the mare feeling the heat of her body. Even before she started to take vitals she knew a fever existed. There was a lot a veterinarian could learn by watching. Ice Princess took an unstable step forward, pressing her head against the wall for support. Her muscles continued to twitch and become weaker as Tracy watched.
Dolan stayed outside the corral. He perched a boot on the lower wrung of the fence and watched.
"Spent a fortune for this animal.” Uncle Carl continued to ramble. “Should have known something was amiss the moment she didn't eat. Looks like something is wrong with her nervous
It took a moment for her to respond as she stared at his mouth. Was she thinking the same thing? Did she want him to kiss her?
The prettiest shade of pink dotted her cheeks when she caught herself staring. Clearing her throat, she straightened her backbone, which raised the hem of her shirt to give him a better look of her long legs. “It's late. Why are you here?"
Dropping the spoon back into the carton, he fished her telephone out of his pocket and held it out to her.
"Crap.” She grabbed the telephone. “Thank you. I was wondering where I had left it."
"No problem.” He started to step inside, but she move into his path.
There was a moment of uncomfortable silence. Their eyes locked.
"Well good-night."
If she thought she was getting rid of him so easily she'd better think again. “Your uncle called."
"Carl?"
"Something's wrong with one of his horses."
Her eyes softened with concern. “No."
"Get dressed.” He extracted the ice cream from her hand. Stepping past her, he headed toward the kitchen. “I'll take care of this and then haul you over there."
"That isn't necessary,” she insisted following, the dog hot on her heels.
"It sounded serious. You might want to hurry."
"Serious? What's wrong?"
He raised a brow. “We'll talk about it in the truck."
She frowned, hesitating as if she thought to argue with him, but in the end she turned and hurried off to the bedroom.
Dolan struck his thigh with a palm. “Come on, Foxy. Let's put this away."
The dog yipped, wagging her bushy tail and followed him into the kitchen.
The place looked like a hurricane had hit. Boxes lay strewn about, some open, some not. Crumpled newspaper was thrown around the room. Dishes, pots and pans, and knick-knacks covered the counter and butcher block table.
Trudy would have blown a gasket. She was always so neat and organized. Of course, he didn't know enough about Tracy to start making assumptions. Clearly she hadn't finished unpacking.
Opening the freezer, he chuckled. He set the ice cream down between three other gallons of the frozen dessert. Obviously she had a sweet tooth. He closed the refrigerator and started to unwrap a glass out of one of the boxes on the table. As he grabbed another, she came through the doorway dressed in jeans and a light sweatshirt. She held a black bag in her hand.
Her tennis shoe squealed against the tile floor as she turned. “Let's go."
The look on Uncle Carl's face said he was worried. Fast, agitated steps carried his stout frame toward the stables as she and Dolan followed. He threw open the barn doors with a little more strength than was necessary, causing them to crash against the sides of the barn. “She hasn't eaten. Seemed listless. Thought she was just anxious about her new surroundings. Now this.” He stopped before a corral.
Ice Princess's big brown eyes were dull. She looked confused as she gazed around. Her back legs quivered, too weak to hold her. Tracy opened the gate and stepped inside. The animal didn't stir or acknowledge her existence until she touched the horse's neck. Muscles twitch beneath her palms.
"Hey girl.” Tracy stroked the mare feeling the heat of her body. Even before she started to take vitals she knew a fever existed. There was a lot a veterinarian could learn by watching. Ice Princess took an unstable step forward, pressing her head against the wall for support. Her muscles continued to twitch and become weaker as Tracy watched.
Dolan stayed outside the corral. He perched a boot on the lower wrung of the fence and watched.
"Spent a fortune for this animal.” Uncle Carl continued to ramble. “Should have known something was amiss the moment she didn't eat. Looks like something is wrong with her nervous
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