The Perfect Man

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The Perfect Man Page 11

by Vicki Lewis Thompson


  She opened her eyes slowly, and the heat in her gaze told him all he needed to know. Her passion matched his. Now all he had to do was convince her that surrendering to it, in a more appropriate time and place, wouldn’t brand her as unprofessional.

  He understood the stakes, but he was willing to risk losing an excellent vet in order to gain . . . He wasn’t ready to put a name to it. Not yet. He and Astrid needed more time, more intimacy, before he could think in those terms. But he saw the possibilities, and they were breathtaking.

  His parents were a couple who had known the kind of devotion he yearned for in a partner. Now that he was older and could handle his grief, he could view the car accident as a blessing for them, in some ways. If either had survived alone, the pain of losing the other would have been crippling.

  Astrid smiled, which was a beautiful thing to see when paired with her sparkling eyes. “That was lovely.”

  “Told you so.”

  “But you’re still a client.”

  “And a man.”

  “Oh, I’m well aware of that.”

  “Good. The word client is so impersonal. I’d like to progress to friend.”

  “I already think of you that way, Fletch.”

  “You do? Hey, that’s great. Then maybe we can move right past that designation. I’d like to suggest—”

  “I’m sure you would.” The sparkle remained in her incredible eyes. “But right now, I need to return to being your vet and make sure Janis continues to do as well as she can.”

  “You bet.” He stepped aside immediately. By his calculation, the kiss had only lasted a few minutes. He’d packed a lot of sensory delights into those few minutes, but he couldn’t imagine they’d been involved with each other long enough to cause a problem with the mare and her foal.

  Astrid started into the stall and paused to comb her hands through her hair. “My hair’s down.” She seemed bemused by the fact.

  “My fault.” He scanned the wooden floor of the barn aisle and found the clasp lying there. He picked it up. “Here.”

  “Thanks.” She scooped her hair back and fastened the clasp. “I didn’t even realize that you’d done that.”

  “That’s because I’m such a smooth operator.”

  She laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “For next time?”

  “Nice try, cowboy. There won’t be a next time. That was a delicious kiss, but we won’t be—oh, Fletch! Janis is getting up!”

  “I see that.” He watched his brave girl struggle to her feet, and his heart swelled with pride. Despite her outstanding bloodlines, she’d been offered at a bargain price three years ago because she was past her prime. He’d feared if he didn’t take her, she might end up in a bad situation or sold to a meat packer.

  He hadn’t bought her simply out of charity, though. He’d believed she could produce at least one more quality foal, and he’d gambled on that by paying an outrageous stud fee. The first attempt hadn’t worked, but the second had resulted in this pregnancy.

  When she’d run into problems, he’d questioned his judgment, but thanks to Astrid’s excellent care, Janis had come through for him and delivered a healthy colt. Now she’d get her well-deserved rest.

  Once Janis was upright, she began nudging her foal, Buddy Holly. Fletch had picked out the name after an ultrasound seemed to indicate Janis would have a colt. Sure, these rocker names were corny, but his mom had loved rock music. He was a sentimental sap and proud of it.

  “Oh, my God. This is it.” Astrid rushed back to her bag and pulled out a point-and-shoot camera. “This is the money shot. Buddy Holly is about to get to his feet for the first time.”

  Fletch hadn’t even thought to bring a camera. Maybe he’d been a little superstitious about that, too. If he’d brought a camera and the worst had happened . . . But it hadn’t, and Astrid was ready to record the moment.

  He’d experienced this event several times with his other vet, and the contrast in that guy’s response and Astrid’s was dramatic. Where the other vet obviously had been eager to get the process over so that he could go home, Astrid behaved as if being here was a privilege.

  No wonder he was so drawn to her. She understood the importance of honoring new life. He wanted her here every time a foal was born on the Rocking G. She had the kind of energy he craved.

  The colt was shaky, and he took several tries to get up on those impossibly slender legs. But he kept at it with a determination that made Fletch’s heart squeeze. Janis coaxed him to try again, and this time, he got all four legs under him and stood. His damp body quivered with the effort, but he was up.

  Astrid let out a muted whoop of joy, enough to show she was thrilled, but not enough to scare the wobbly colt. She snapped picture after picture, and Fletch reminded himself to ask for copies. Something told him Buddy would be a remarkable colt, and an even more remarkable stallion. This birth could be the beginning of a legacy for the Rocking G. A shiver of anticipation raced up Fletch’s spine at the thought.

  He didn’t think it was coincidence that Astrid was here to share this moment, either. He’d had a feeling about her ever since she’d climbed out of her truck that first day six months ago. She was a bitty thing, probably only about five-two, but her size didn’t stop her from doing a bang-up job as a large-animal vet.

  Although he didn’t know a lot about her background, he figured she’d grown up on a ranch somewhere. He’d meant to ask her, but the timing had never seemed right. She knew far more about him, he realized now, than he knew about her. Time to fix that.

  After Buddy began to nurse, Astrid left the stall and came to stand beside him. “Was that exciting or what?”

  “Yep.” He smiled at her. “Thanks for remembering a camera. You’ll send me the pictures, right?”

  “Absolutely. Part of the service.” She tucked the camera back in her bag and stood. “Wow. Adrenaline rush.” She blew out a breath and glanced at him. “The process will be pretty boring for the next couple of hours or so. I have to make sure Janis passes the entire placenta, and that can take a while. If you want to go to bed . . .” Her voice trailed off and she blushed a becoming shade of pink. “I mean, if you—”

  “I know what you meant, although a proposition would be welcome right now.”

  Her cheeks still pink, she shook her head. “No can do. I’m already worried that we’ll be uncomfortable working with each other after that kiss.”

  “We won’t,” he said quickly. That was the last thing he wanted. “I’ll cut the loaded comments. I don’t want you to think about dropping me as a client. That would be bad for my animals.” And worse for him. He looked forward to her visits more than he’d been willing to admit.

  “I would hate that, too. The Rocking G is my favorite call.”

  He longed to ask her if that was the ranch itself, or if the rancher had something to do with it. But he wouldn’t say another word. He’d just hope that over time he’d win her over.

  “Anyway, you don’t have to stick around,” she said. “I can finish up here alone and lock up the barn when I leave.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of letting you do that. The rain’s been constant, which means that usually dry gulch is full of water. I’m going to follow you as far as the bridge to make sure you get across okay.”

  “Fletch, that’s not necessary. The bridge is sturdy and I’ll be fine. Besides, I’m not a risk-taker. If I’m worried, I’ll come back here and wait until the water goes down.”

  He folded his arms. “That’s all good to hear, but I’m going with you as far as the bridge. Then, if you have to come back, I can give you breakfast while you wait.”

  “Okay.” She sounded hesitant.

  “Or were you trying to get rid of me because I make you nervous?”

  “Maybe a little bit.”

  He sighed and let his arms dr
op to his sides. “I regret that. I can’t make myself regret kissing you, but I’d hate to think I’ve messed up the dynamic between us.”

  “Let’s just say it’s not quite as relaxed as it was before.”

  “Then I’ll work on that, which is a good reason for me to hang around. I’ll prove to you that we can get along the way we always have.”

  “All right. Any more coffee left?”

  “There is.” He’d brought the biggest thermos he had for that very reason. “I’ll get us some.” Moments later he handed her a full mug. “Astrid, no matter what happens or doesn’t happen between us, I want you to continue to care for my animals. That’s a top priority for me.”

  She accepted the mug and wrapped both hands around it. “I could help you find someone. I realize your last vet wasn’t very good, but I could recommend—”

  “I want you.”

  Her eyes widened.

  “Hell. I want you as my vet.” Then honesty prodded him. “I also want you, in the larger sense, but that is the last time you’ll hear me bring up the subject. So, let’s talk about something else.”

  She still seemed extremely wary. “Like what?”

  “How about you? Your family? I realized tonight that I’ve rattled on about my parents and my dreams for the ranch, but I don’t know much about your background.”

  Surprisingly, her wariness seemed to increase. “It’s not very interesting.”

  She was hiding something. He couldn’t imagine what, but for some reason she didn’t want to talk about her family. For all he knew, her dad was in jail and her mother was a drunk. That would explain not wanting to discuss them.

  “Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to pry.” He settled on an easier question. “But I would like to know how you ended up wanting to be a vet, if that’s not too personal.”

  “Not at all.” She brightened immediately. “I can tell you exactly what got me started. I read Black Beauty when I was eight years old.”

  “Yeah, me, too. But I didn’t end up in veterinary school.”

  “No, but you work with horses. I was determined to do that, too. I was struck by the fact that they can’t talk and tell us what’s wrong, so it seemed like a wonderful challenge to learn how to diagnose their problems and see if I could fix them.”

  “I’ll bet you were good in science.”

  “I loved my science classes, especially biology. I had this one teacher, Mr. Dudley. He was great. Let me tell you about this experiment he had us do. It was so cool.”

  And she was off and running, describing her journey through the various stages of education that had resulted in becoming a licensed vet. Relieved to have found a safe topic, Fletch leaned against the stall and soaked up her enthusiasm. She’d loved every challenge, even the difficult college courses that required her to memorize every bone, tendon, and muscle in the body of a horse.

  He was full of questions, some he’d never thought of until she explained important things she’d learned. As a horse owner, he needed to know more about the animals under his care, and now was a great time to get a mini-course in horse physiology.

  She took breaks to check on Janis, and fortunately the mare was progressing exactly as she was supposed to. Even better, Fletch and Astrid had returned to the ease they’d enjoyed with each other before he’d kissed her. If he wanted her, and he absolutely did, then he’d have to be patient. Considering the potential reward, having the woman of his dreams, he could be very patient, indeed.

  Three

  Astrid was impressed with how well they passed the time without veering into dangerous territory again. She credited it to all the time they’d spent together before that lollapalooza of a kiss. They’d established their friendship firmly enough that they could settle back into it and put forbidden pleasures aside.

  Sort of. During those couple of hours she’d had flashbacks to that electric moment when his mouth had claimed hers. She’d banished the thoughts immediately, but not before they’d kick-started her hormones. A low-grade sexual fever hummed beneath the surface, ready to spike at the slightest touch.

  He was very careful, though. His hands never strayed close, and neither did hers. She didn’t trust herself enough to allow even a slight brush of her hand against his.

  Thank goodness he’d backed off when he’d figured out she didn’t want to talk about her family. She wasn’t being nearly as open as he’d been about his. Weeks ago he’d told her that he’d been orphaned as a teenager and the small inheritance he’d received had allowed him to make a down payment on this ranch.

  Someday she might tell him about her privileged background, but not now, especially right after he’d kissed the daylights out of her. Sure, she could just say that her mom and dad lived in Dallas and she had no siblings, but simplistic answers like that inevitably led to more questions.

  Frankly, she didn’t know how they’d navigate from here on out. Until he’d kissed her, she’d yearned for him, but that yearning had been more in the order of a crush. Now that the object of her crush had stated his desire, her passion was a live thing, pacing the cage, searching for an escape.

  Sharing the emotional high of a successful foaling hadn’t helped matters any. She’d grabbed the camera because photographic evidence was important, but also because she needed to hold on to something and direct her energy elsewhere. Without the camera and an opportunity to take pictures, she might have been right back in his arms.

  Once she drove away from here, she’d be able to put some psychic distance between them, too. Sleep would help. Her judgment was never good when she was sleep-deprived.

  When she’d finally determined that Janis had passed all of the placenta and was successful nursing Buddy, she packed her bag and glanced over at Fletch. He had an endearing shadow of a beard, and his clothes were rumpled. He’d spattered coffee on himself at one point, and he’d plowed his fingers through his hair so often that strands of it stuck straight up.

  She’d never been so taken with a man in her entire life. His disheveled appearance came from devotion to an animal, and she understood and admired that quality in him. Besides, he looked good all mussed. It gave him a rakish air.

  He met her gaze. “Ready to head out?”

  “I think it’s safe. Janis shows no signs of infection or undue stress. I predict she’ll be fine. You can certainly call me if you notice anything unusual, but I don’t expect to hear from you until it’s time for me to come back and give them both a check-up.”

  An emotion flickered briefly in his brown eyes. “That’s good news.” But his words were at war with the tone of his voice. “I’ll get my keys and follow you to the bridge.”

  “You really don’t have to. The rain’s stopped.”

  His jaw firmed. “I’ll get my keys.” Taking his hat from the peg beside the stall, he settled it on his head and tugged the brim down. “Wait for me.”

  Whoa. She’d never been privy to this side of Fletch, an unbending commander of the troops. Then she remembered that his parents had died in an automobile accident. He hadn’t said what kind of an accident, and she doubted they’d drowned in their car, but still . . . he would be extra cautious when it came to people taking chances in vehicles.

  She’d honor that and wait for him. Making sure the stall door was securely latched, she walked out of the barn, closed the double door, and fastened the padlock in place. By the time she’d climbed into her pickup, he was on his way, his truck’s headlights swerving as he navigated around puddles in the dirt road from the main house to the barn.

  She was glad for his company, even though she’d wanted to save him the trouble. He had to be at least as exhausted as she was. But the road to the bridge was unpaved, and after the rain it would be thick with mud. Her four-wheel-drive should handle it, but in case it didn’t, she’d be grateful to have him there to help pull her out.

  S
tarting the engine, she put the truck in gear and began the slippery journey to the bridge. Her truck fish-tailed a couple of times, and she slowed down. Technically, she was in no hurry.

  She’d planned for a relaxing Sunday—catching up on her sleep, doing some laundry, picking up takeout for dinner. She wasn’t seeing her family or friends today, so she could spend the day in bed if she wanted to. When she got home wasn’t particularly important.

  Leaving the Rocking G, however, was extremely important. The sooner she did that, the sooner she could assess her situation in the privacy of her own space. In Fletch’s magnetic presence, she couldn’t think straight, and she worried that she’d do something unwise. Like kiss him again.

  The memory of that kiss hadn’t faded one iota in the time since he’d released her and stepped away. The velvet imprint of his lips remained on hers, and the thought of how he’d used his tongue got her juices flowing every time. That cowboy certainly knew how to kiss.

  If he made love the same way, then the lucky recipient would be in for a real treat. Her imagination conjured up an image of Fletch stripping off his cowboy duds and climbing into bed with her. Mmm. Was she a complete fool to deny herself that kind of pleasure?

  The blare of a horn snapped her back to reality. She’d meant to brake before crossing the bridge and assess the potential threat of high water. Lost in thought about a naked and sexy Mr. Grayson, she’d driven onto the bridge without pausing. Oh, well. She was committed now.

  The span was about seventy-five feet, and the wooden structure quivered as water surged beneath it. And over it. Too late she saw what she’d missed earlier. The bridge was partly under water.

  Perhaps only an inch or two covered the wooden planks, but the water was moving fast, and her truck’s tires began to lose traction. She gripped the wheel and forged on. Had she stopped to look, she wouldn’t have continued onto the bridge at all, but now she was nearly halfway across. Might as well keep going.

 

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