Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 69468 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69468 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
“You’re doing good work,” I said as Carson removed Linus’s halter and gave him a careful brush down. “Kat said you’re doing some of it off the clock too?”
“Some.” Carson shrugged, mouth pursing like he wasn’t sure what to do with the praise. “Nothing else to do.”
I knew perfectly well that this project was far more than a time filler for Carson. One look at him and the horse revealed their deep bond. However, this was also an opening for my invitation.
“You want something else to do?”
“Got ideas?” Carson gave me a look so heated that a flush swept up my neck to sear my cheeks.
“Some.” I swallowed hard. “I was thinking you might want to come over for dinner tomorrow. That rare steak I promised you. Maybe some gaming.”
That we might have more sex was implied, but my desire to spend time with Carson vastly outweighed my desire for a hookup. Much as I didn’t want to admit it, this thing was so much more complicated than merely a physical connection.
“Reckon I could.” Nodding, Carson held my gaze, more heat zooming between us, raising the temperature in the stall despite the fan’s breeze.
Damn. I wanted him in the worst way. We were alone in the barn, no one else around, and no sounds coming from other stalls or the offices. Surely I could get away with a fast touch. Maybe even a kiss. The way Carson was staring at me said he might welcome—
Buzz. Buzz. My phone chose that moment to vibrate with the pattern I’d assigned the answering service that routed all emergency calls to my cell. Damn it. Kat had indeed jinxed me with the quiet night comment.
“Gotta take this. Sorry.” I stepped outside the stall, body already tensing for bad news and mind halfway to my truck. The call and subsequent message with pictures confirmed my fears that I had a late night ahead. I ended the call as Carson finished with Linus and joined me in the aisle between stalls.
“What’s wrong?” He tilted his head toward me, and his gentle concern had me briefly closing my eyes and taking a steadying breath.
“Got a horse injury on a nearby hobby ranch. Flank snagged on a loose piece of barbed wire on a trail ride. Stitches likely. Squeamish owners with a tendency to hover.” The last bit was the part I was most dreading. The Youngs were a wealthy couple in their late fifties. They ran right to worst-case scenarios, and neither was likely to be much help in an emergency.
“Damn.” Carson patted me on the arm. “Anything I can do?”
I opened my mouth to say no, but his unexpected touch had me reconsidering. Warmth spread upward from his hand, reminding me how good it felt to be supported.
“Actually, yes,” I said slowly as I worked out a plan. “Would you want to come along? You’re so good at keeping horses calm. And you seem to have a strong stomach.”
“I do.” Carson dropped his hand to pull out his phone. “Let me tell Kat.”
“Thanks.” It was toward the end of the workday, so I was reasonably certain Kat would agree to Carson coming with me.
“Anytime.” Carson’s expression softened with an unexpected vulnerability.
As much as it pained me to need help, he seemed grateful to be asked. Having someone I could count on was a novelty. Worry for the coming emergency churned in my gut, but my shoulders were far looser knowing Carson would be along to assist.
Chapter Seventeen
Carson
Jude had us on the road in short order. The other ranch was in the next county, a little under an hour away, according to the truck’s GPS. Jude kept drumming his fingers on the steering wheel like he’d ordered up a set of wings and they had yet to arrive. His jaw was set like a stack of bricks, and his tension made the silence feel heavier than usual.
“Tell me more about emer…” Hell. My tongue tripped all over the word emergency. “Injury.”
“Probably a good idea.” Jude sounded relieved to have an excuse to talk. “This is a hobby ranch, so the owners are newer land owners who mainly ride for pleasure. They had the horses out on a trail near their house when their younger gelding, Bono, got snagged by a stray piece of barbed wire. They got him back to the barn, but from the pictures they sent, the cut is likely going to need stitches.”
“Under local?” I hadn’t seen an equine wound repair yet, but I assumed Jude wouldn’t be using general anesthesia in the field.
“Yeah. However, I’ll likely sedate the horse before suturing. I’ll use you to help with the prep.”
“Makes sense.” I nodded. Outside the truck, the evening sun swept over the rugged landscape. The clock on the dashboard said we were approaching dinner time, but my mind was more on Jude than food. “Glad to help.”