Too bad he could never tell her that.
Chapter 2
The following Tuesday, Travis carried in his toolbox just as Miranda reached under her horse to catch hold of the girth, bending over to display one of the most succulent backsides he’d ever seen. His groin tightened as she glanced up at him and grinned. Cool down, Travis. She’s married. Remember?
“How’d it go?”
He stood gaping at her for a moment before he realized what she meant. Oh yeah. Shelley. “She’s a nice lady.” He set down his tools and leaned against a nearby post, focusing his full attention on her and letting his eyes drink their fill. No one could blame him for that… “I’m not sure we’ll ever find anything in common, but I do like her.”
Chuckling, she gave him a wink. “Oh, let me guess. She’s either allergic to horses or is terrified of them. Right?”
“Neither. In fact, she has no opinion of them at all, except that they’re big.” Too bad that wasn’t the only problem.
“That’s a start.” She threaded the saddle billets through the buckles and pulled the girth up tight. Travis fought the urge to do it for her. “At least she wasn’t kicked by one as a child.”
“No, but she has been kicked, in a manner of speaking. Her husband cheated on her for years, and she finally found out and divorced him.” Travis knew that feeling quite well, which was the one thing they had in common. Unfortunately, commiseration wasn’t the best basis for love. Shelley had been fairly straightforward about it, but he was pretty sure he hadn’t heard the whole story yet.
“Oh, not good.”
Travis held his breath, his heart pounding as she reached around him to retrieve her bridle from a hook on the post he was leaning against. She lingered for a moment, temptation personified, her subtle fragrance taunting him despite the pervasive aroma of horse that filled the barn. Her full lips were moist and inviting. A single step and he’d be near enough to kiss her.
“How long since the divorce?”
He cleared his throat with an effort. “About a year and a half.”
Quirking an eyebrow, she tucked her lower lip between her teeth and shook her head. “That long, huh? And you’re the first?”
“Yep.”
“Oh, you’re in big trouble, Travis,” she said darkly. “It’s a good thing I wished you luck, ’cause you’re gonna need it. Does she have any children?”
He shook his head. “No, and she doesn’t want any. Says she doesn’t have time for them.”
Miranda appeared to consider this, pursing her lips as a frown furrowed her brow. “That’s good, in a way—at least they won’t come between you. Does it bother you that she doesn’t want kids?”
“Maybe. I mean, I’d like to have kids, but the way things are going I’ll never have the chance.” He let out a rueful sigh. “I’d rather not do it without a wife.”
“I see your point.” Once again, her smile drew his eyes to her lips, making him glad she couldn’t read the carnal thoughts racing through his head. “Is she a good kisser?”
“Okay, I guess.” He’d kissed Shelley goodnight after their date, more out of curiosity than anything. She’d seemed to expect it, lifting her face to his, her lips slightly puckered. Truth be told, it was one of the least memorable kisses of Travis’s life, but that could change. Yes, and hell could freeze over. Fires didn’t start without sparks, and he hadn’t felt a single one.
Miranda’s bright green eyes danced with mischief. His cock tightened painfully as he imagined them gazing up at him, heavy-lidded with passion.
“So it’s safe to assume she didn’t pounce on you?”
A shiver ran up his spine at the thought of Miranda pouncing on him. He shook his head. “Nope. No pouncing—darn it.”
“Poor baby.” She smiled again. “Perhaps you should suggest it to her.”
“I don’t know if that would work or not.” Shelley hadn’t struck him as the pouncing type. He couldn’t see her ever ripping his shirt off, but he could certainly see Miranda doing it—and then going for his pants. The stuff of dreams…
Miranda went right on bridling her horse, unaware of her starring role in his latest fantasy. “Maybe she’s just biding her time and will grab you when you least expect it.”
The fantasy continued as he imagined Miranda grabbing his ass when his back was turned. He’d be bending down to pick up a horse’s hoof when her hand would slide down between his legs… “Lulling me into a false sense of security?”
“Something like that.” Miranda pulled a pair of spurs out of her tote bag, then put her foot up on the old park bench that sat against the wall. His fantasy already had him hard as a rock, but it took a turn for the kinky when she buckled on her spurs. Did she like being fucked from behind? He could almost feel his cock sliding into her warm, wet pussy, his hands gripping her hips, helping him bounce against that ass…
The subject needed changing. Now. “She, um, likes fancy restaurants. Have you ever eaten in one of those places?”
“You mean the ones that charge you a fortune and you’re still hungry when you leave?”
“Yeah. That kind.” He raked a hand through his hair, trying desperately to regain control. “I liked some of it, but it was different from anything I’d ever eaten before. Although it was…colorful.”
“I’ll bet it was.” She gathered up the reins. “Be sure to keep me posted. Have to ride, now.” Heaving a sigh, she added, “I haven’t practiced much this week because of all the rain, so Nigel will probably scream. Why is the weather only nice on the days I have to work?”
All Travis could do was shrug. The mysteries of the weather weren’t anywhere near as interesting as wondering what it would be like to make her scream.
“See ya later.” Waving her whip in farewell, she headed off toward the arena.
Travis had always made it a policy to avoid dating his female customers, and though one or two had flirted with him, he had never, but never, chased after a married woman. But as he watched Miranda walking away, the only thought in his head was that at least she wasn’t a client.
* * * *
Nigel was already grumbling when Miranda reached the arena. “I certainly hope you’re better prepared than the last one. It was hideous to watch. Simply hideous.”
As she mounted Kira, Miranda decided that her only hope for coming through the lesson unscathed was to distract him. “So, Nigel, have you made out your Christmas list yet?”
If anything, this made him grumble even more. “No point in it. I only get practical things for Christmas. Never anything frivolous or fun.”
“Frivolous? Like what?”
“Oh, I don’t know…a Jacuzzi, perhaps? Now, that would be a bloody great gift.”
“Considering how often you get banged up, a Jacuzzi would be a practical gift for someone like you. I could probably use one myself.” Miranda had lost count of the number of falls she’d had, and she’d been to the ER so many times she qualified as a frequent flier. “Who knows? It might even be a valid tax deduction since you could argue that it was an essential part of your business.”
His expression brightened. “Really? You think so?”
“Well, no,” she admitted. “Probably not. You’d have a tough time convincing the IRS.”
His shoulders sank. “Oh, rot. Nice thought, though.” Heaving a sigh, he waved her on. “Okay, then. Get out there and ride that big mare, Miranda. I’m ready to be impressed.”
So much for trying to distract him. Miranda shook her head sadly. If she was ever going to impress Nigel, this probably wouldn’t be the day.
The lesson went downhill from there. Kira simply wasn’t in the mood to work and ended it by tossing Miranda on her ass. She wasn’t hurt, but by the time she got back to the barn, Travis was already gone.
Then her phone rang. It was Christina.
“Where are you?” Miranda could hear the panic in her friend’s voice.
“I’m just leaving Nigel’s place. What’s up?”
>
“I can’t talk about it on the phone. Can you meet me for lunch?”
“Not unless you know a restaurant that serves horses.”
Christina paused for a moment. “Oh, that’s right. I forgot. Somewhere close to your house, then?”
Miranda chuckled. “Have you also forgotten where I live? There isn’t anything close to my house.”
“When can you meet me? It’s urgent.”
Miranda mentally calculated the time it would take her to drive home, drop off Kira, unhitch the trailer, shower, change clothes, and drive to Indianapolis. “Tomorrow?”
Christina’s gasp of dismay warned her that tomorrow might be too late. “What about dinner?”
“Dinner I can do,” Miranda replied. “Tell me where.”
“How about—no. Can’t go there.”
“Can’t go where?”
“Anyplace I’ve ever been with Mark.”
Which probably ruled out every restaurant in town. “Somewhere in Greenwood, then. What about that Chinese place near the mall?”
“Never been there.”
“Perfect. See you at about six?”
“Sure.”
Miranda was halfway home when her phone rang again. This time, it was Mark. After hearing his side of the story, she had an idea that dinner with Christina was going to be dramatic, to say the least.
* * * *
Despite red eyes and tear-stained cheeks, Christina still looked like a romance novel heroine. “Seven years.” Her voice broke with sobs, and she paused for a sip of water before continuing. “We’ve been together for seven whole years. I loved him from the first moment I saw him. We got along great—the incredible sex was just the icing on the cake. Why would he do this to me?”
Having already talked to Mark, Miranda could have enlightened her, but decided that this might not be the best time. His slant on their relationship was that he’d felt more ignored than loved, didn’t think they’d gotten along all that well, and had discovered that the sex could be just as good, if not better, with someone else.
“I don’t know, Christina. Your law practice takes up so much of your time. Maybe he was lonely.” Lonely enough to leave her for another woman. Not younger, not prettier, not sexier, not richer, just one with more time for him.
She nodded, sweeping a lock of dark, silky hair behind her ear. “I know I’ve been spending more time with my case files than I do with him, but I thought he understood.”
“I’m sure he did, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he liked it.”
Mark DeVries had been a high school buddy of Miranda’s late husband and had helped her out a lot after Kris died. Their friends all assumed that the two of them would get together someday—her sister, Tracy, had even laid bets on it—but she’d never felt any romantic interest in him whatsoever and had been relieved when he started seeing Christina.
“You’ll find someone else, just like he did. I’m sure of it.”
“But, who?” Fresh tears spilled from her doe-like eyes. “I don’t want anyone but Mark. I’d take him back in a heartbeat, and I don’t care what he’s done—I still love him.”
Miranda knew the feeling. She’d kept right on loving Kris after he died, even though there was absolutely no hope of ever getting him back. Placing a hand over Christina’s trembling fingers, she gave them a reassuring squeeze. “He’s moved on, Christina. I know it’s hard for you right now, but you’re sweet, successful, and beautiful. What more could a man want in a woman?”
“One who isn’t working her ass off constantly and comes home once in a while?” Christina sighed. “Mark kept telling me he wanted to relax and enjoy life more—do some traveling, perhaps. But I wasn’t listening.”
Miranda nodded. “You’ll know better next time—and it wouldn’t hurt you to relax a little. One of these days you’ll be as old as I am and realize you’ve never had any fun.”
Christina stared at her, aghast. “You aren’t that old.”
“But I’m not getting any younger, which is why I’m doing stuff I’ve always wanted to do, like living on a farm and raising horses, planting a garden—all those things I never had time to do before.”
“And a man? Do you finally have time for one of those?”
Miranda rolled her eyes. “Maybe, but I’m not a gorgeous chick with a perfect figure and a law degree. You’re bound to have better luck than I will.”
So far, Miranda hadn’t been tempted, and her own sister’s luck was even worse. Tracy had threatened to compile a “Not Safe to Date” list of local men to share with other single women, and Miranda’s friends from the hospital had offered to contribute a few names. With the exception of Travis, Miranda hadn’t found a single keeper, and she was beginning to believe she actually did stand a better chance of being killed by a terrorist than finding a husband—or even a steady boyfriend.
All through dinner, Miranda glanced up at each new arrival, hoping that the next man to walk through that door would be Christina’s Mr. Right. She could see it now. Their eyes would meet, and the man would be instantly smitten and beg to be seated at their table. Miranda would take the earliest opportunity to depart, leaving him to astonish Christina with his wit while regaling her with tales of his rise to fame and fortune.
Chance meetings were usually best. In Miranda’s opinion, playing matchmaker was a great way to lose two friends at once. Travis’s client must not have seen it that way—nor had any of Miranda’s buddies. Although she’d flat-out refused to be fixed up with anyone, she wasn’t a man-hater. She simply hadn’t met anyone she could love as much as she’d loved Kris, and thus far, she hadn’t seen any point in settling for less.
On top of that, she was too set in her ways to cater to the whims of someone new. With her husband away most of the time, Miranda had become accustomed to her independence, handling the challenges of a special needs child and her nursing career with minimal assistance. She endured the separation by focusing on the idea that Kris would be coming home soon—a technique that also helped her to cope after his death. She simply told herself that he’d be home next month, and when that month arrived, she would imagine that his leave had been delayed, and then she would wait another month and so on.
She’d quit pretending after the first year or two, but she’d never stopped wearing her wedding ring, nor had she moved it to her right hand. Her matchmaking friends finally understood her reasons for not remarrying—or simply gave up.
Despite her empty nest, her life was full. She worked three twelve-hour night shifts in the ICU of a small hospital, and that salary, along with the money she’d received after Kris’s death, had enabled her to buy a small farm and a few horses. Now that Levi had his own apartment, she had more time to devote to her animals.
No. She didn’t need a man. All she needed was a bit of eye candy now and then, and Travis York provided that. And if he ever stopped coming to Nigel’s barn on Tuesdays, why, she would simply look elsewhere—or reschedule her lesson.
Even so, she drove home wondering if a casual friendship with Travis was truly enough. Her house was warm and cozy, but the only welcome she received was from her dogs and cats. Levi had never been one to display affection—no hugs or kisses unless Miranda specifically asked for them—so that wasn’t what she missed. The warm presence of another human being was what she needed, even craved, and that craving had only increased as she’d gotten older.
Christina had lived with Mark, and now that he was gone, her house must’ve seemed very empty. Miranda hadn’t felt that echoing sort of emptiness since Kris left for the last time, but she felt it now. Perhaps she was more attuned to it in the wake of her dinner with Christina or even her chat with Travis. They had both lamented being alone, leaving Miranda to question her own decision to remain single. Had she been wrong to shun male companionship for so many years? Could she have found a man she could trust with her heart and her son?
She still believed her reasons had been valid in the beginning, but somethin
g had changed. Kris wasn’t ever coming home, and all the cats, dogs, and horses weren’t enough to fill the void. She wanted Travis, and not simply because he was nice to look at. Unlike any of the other men she’d met, she could see him fitting into her life—not dominating it or tearing it down to rebuild it according to his own needs—but enhancing it, adding richness and fulfillment.
If he’d been a few years older or had at least hinted he might want something beyond their current casual friendship, she might have tried to convey her interest. But he hadn’t, and as matters now stood, she wasn’t willing to take the risk. He’d awakened desires she’d thought were long gone. Giving up what little she had of him was unthinkable.
Chapter 3
Travis’s truck was sitting outside Nigel’s barn when Miranda arrived for her lesson the next week. “Ah, yes. Eye Candy Tuesday,” she muttered as she backed her trailer into a parking space. Parking at Nigel’s was always an adventure. The stable sat on a hill with a steep paved lot in front that always held an assortment of cars and trailers, which made parking an additional trailer difficult even on a good day. Add a few more vehicles, and it became a nightmare.
After three unsuccessful attempts, she finally got her rig parked reasonably straight, unloaded Kira, and led her into the barn. Travis was already hard at work, shoeing a big bay gelding. She didn’t even have to see his face to know it was him. She’d seen him bent over so many times, she recognized the seat of his pants.
“Hey, there, Travis,” she said cheerfully. “How’s it going?”
The bay turned his head to look at Kira, who glanced at him briefly, then laid her ears back, clearly dismissing him as unworthy.
“I’m okay.” He didn’t sound okay—he was much too subdued for that. Something was wrong.
Nigel’s working student, a slender blonde college student named Karen, walked by. “Whatever you do, don’t ask him about his love life.”
Unbridled (Unlikely Lovers) Page 2