Page 27 of The Cowboy and the Stray

But damned if she wasn't trying her best to pretend otherwise. There was something about that quiet persistence that tugged at me, made me want to peel back her layers until I found the steel underneath.

Something told me it was there. Deep.

"Easy there, darlin'," I said, pitching my voice low and soothing like I was gentling a colt. "Brimstone ain't gonna bite."

She startled a bit, shoulders hunching up around her ears before she caught herself and forced them back down. When she turned to face me, her chin was lifted and her eyes were guarded, but there was no hiding the nervous bob of her throat above the collar of her shirt.

"I know that," she said, a hint of mulish defiance in her tone. "I'm not scared of him."

"Never said you were," I agreed easily, stepping closer and taking the comb from her unresisting fingers. "But there's no shame in admitting it, either. Brim's a big boy, and you're still learning his ways."

Up close, I could see the way her pulse fluttered hummingbird-fast at the base of her throat. Could smell the warm, dusty scent of her skin and the bright, grassy notes of the hay clinging to her jeans. I had the sudden, inexplicable urge to bury my face in the crook of her neck.

Christ, pull it together.

I shook it off, focusing instead on the task at hand. Gently, I repositioned her grip on the curry comb, my fingers lingering a beat too long over the delicate bones of her wrist. Her skin was soft there, and warm, and it took more effort than it should have to let her go.

My wolf wanted me to latch on instead.

"Like this," I said gruffly, demonstrating the circular motion on Brimstone's gleaming flank. "With the hair, not against it. He'll let you know if you're doing it wrong."

As if to illustrate my point, Brimstone chose that moment to swing his big head around and lip questioningly at Tess's shirt pocket. She froze, eyes going wide and panicked, but to her credit, she didn't bolt. Just stood there stiff as a statue while Brimstone snuffled at her, no doubt searching for the peppermints she'd taken to carrying.

Good girl.

"Guess that answers that question," I drawled, fighting back a grin as I shooed Brimstone off. "Congratulations. You've just been accepted into his good graces."

Tess let out a shaky laugh, more relief than amusement, but it was a start. "And here I thought I'd have to bribe him with sugar cubes first."

"Don't let him fool you," I warned, only half joking. "He'll bleed you dry of peppermints and still demand his sugar. Isn't that right, you greedy bastard?"

I directed that last bit at Brimstone, who just flicked an ear in my direction and went back to drowsing. Horses were a lot like men, in my experience. Endlessly hungry and not nearly as clever as they thought they were. Myself included, apparently.

We worked in companionable silence for a bit, the rhythm of the curry combs and the occasional whiff of Brimstone's breath the only sounds in the quiet barn. I stole glances at Tess from the corner of my eye, watching the way the tension slowly bled out of her shoulders as she lost herself in the task. She looked like she belonged here.

The late afternoon sun slanted in through the high windows, painting everything in honeyed light and gilding the fiery strands that had escaped her braid. It took every ounce of my fraying self-control not to reach out and tuck them back behind her ear. Don’t touch what you can’t keep.

"You're getting good at this," I offered into the stretching silence, needing to say something before I did something stupid. Like let my hands linger too long on her skin or back her up against the stall wall and taste the peppermint on her tongue.

Tess ducked her head, but not before I caught the pleased flush climbing her cheeks. "I had a good teacher," she deflected, shooting me a look from under her lashes that kicked me square in the gut. "And a patient horse. Brimstone's a saint for putting up with me."

"I won't argue with that," I said, grinning as Brimstone chose that exact moment to sneeze explosively, spraying us both with snot and slobber. Tess yelped and jumped back, dropping her curry comb and windmilling her arms in a desperate bid to keep her balance.

I lunged forward and caught her before she could topple into the wheelbarrow, my hands closing around her waist as I hauled her up against my chest. For a heartbeat, everything narrowed down to the hot press of her body against mine, the ragged catch of her breath, the wide-eyed shock in her moss-green eyes.

Oh, hell.

"Easy," I rasped, my voice coming out rougher than I'd intended. "I've got you."

Tess swallowed hard, her tongue darting out to wet her lips in an unconscious gesture that nearly brought me to my knees. I wanted to chase that tongue, drown myself in the hidden depths of her mouth and forget about all the reasons it was a bad idea.

Reluctantly, with my wolf protesting loudly inside me, I set her back on her feet and stepped away, putting some much-needed distance between us before I did something we'd both regret. Tess smoothed shaky hands down the front of her shirt, dislodging bits of hay and dried horse slobber.

"That was..." She huffed out a laugh, more nerves than humor. "Exciting. Is it always like this around here?"

"More or less," I said, the corner of my mouth twitching up in spite of my best efforts to keep a straight face. "You'll get used to it eventually. And if you don't, well. Hazard pay is negotiable."

That won me a real smile, tentative but blinding in its brightness. "I'll keep that in mind," she murmured, bending to scoop up the fallen curry comb. "And thanks. For the catch."