“I know that.”
“There will be men there.”
She smiled at me like I was a simpleton. Hell, I kind of was.
“Usually are. Every place you go, you find a few.” She chuckled, clearly not getting it. She would create a goddamn stampede if she walked in there looking the way she did. She is far too young and beautiful for those assholes, I thought jealously. She is far too good for you, too, buddy.
“It’s a rough place sometimes,” I finally said.
“Oh,” she said, looking crestfallen. “That’s okay. I never really have time to go out, anyway.”
There was something so heartbreakingly lonely about her face as she turned away. I nearly reached out and grabbed her. Lord knows, I fucking wanted to.
Was it possible that the most gorgeous girl I’d ever seen in my life was . . . lonely?
“Have a good day, Nick.”
I was so distracted by the odd sense that Melissa might actually need a friend, might need me, that I almost missed the chance to stare at her unbelievably perfect ass as she walked away.
That would have been the honorable thing to do. Turns out, I wasn’t honorable. I definitely stared. Hell, I committed her heart-shaped ass to memory.
There was no fighting it. I was a dog, and Melissa was a very, very tasty looking bone.
Chapter Four
Melissa
I tucked my T-shirt into my jeans. It was my favorite casual top. A faded red college T-shirt I’d had forever, but the color was pretty and it was a little more femininely cut than the rest of my work shirts, which were mostly ancient hand-me-downs from my folks. I dabbed a little tinted lipgloss on my lips, feeling stupid but unable to help myself from taking a little bit more care than usual with my appearance.
I had a breakfast date. Well, it wasn't actually a date. But it felt like one. Basically, Nick had been coming early every morning to see his horse and I’d been taking the opportunity to ply him with coffee and baked goods. I felt a bit silly, to be honest. I’d been up until midnight making muffins the night before just because he mentioned that he liked blueberry.
The way to a man's heart was through his stomach, right? And it's not like I could dress up or flirt, since I didn’t know how, but I could wear something a little cuter than my usual old flannel shirt. I didn't have any designer jeans or high heels, but at least my hair wasn't in a baseball cap today. I’d taken the time to French braid it, although I didn’t expect it to hold up as neatly as it was in the mirror. I knew from experience that it wouldn't stay confined for long. Even when I’d been riding competitively, I’d had the messiest hair around. And doing chores? Forget it. Within a few minutes of working, little curly tendrils would be sticking out all over the place.
"Oh, well," I sighed. "Work with what you got, girl."
I grabbed the cute little vintage picnic basket I’d already packed with coffee and muffins and carried it out to the stable. I resisted the urge to whistle, but there was definitely a spring to my step. Spending a couple of minutes with Nick every morning this past week had pretty much gotten me through the rest of the day. I looked forward to it more than I wanted to admit.
Bluebell nickered as I passed by. I'd been neglecting to ride her the past few days. I stopped and rested my forehead on her velvety snout.
"Soon," I promised her. "We will have some time just for ourselves soon."
"Still talking to horses, spark plug?” a voice said from behind me. I turned to see Nick wearing a teasing smile. He looked so unbelievably gorgeous that I wanted to throw myself into his arms. I had to force my feet to stay in place.
"Of course. Like you don't talk to Hendrix,” I shot back.
He made a show of scratching his chin.
"Hendrix isn't a horse."
I burst out laughing. All the tension inside me seemed to melt away. He had put me at ease, just like that. How could such a handsome man also be so sweet? I smiled at him, and he stared at me, completely stunned.
"What is it?" I asked.
"Don't smile at me like that, kid," he muttered darkly. "Don't smile at any man like that."
"I'm not a kid," I said breezily as I scooped up my basket. "Here, I brought you some muffins."
I thrust the wicker basket toward him, attempting to be ladylike about it. I’d lined it with an old, faded but clean gingham dish towel. He looked into the basket and sniffed appreciatively.
“Are those . . . blueberry?”
I nodded, trying not to act as if I were desperate for his approval, even though I one hundred percent was. I wasn’t exactly an experienced baker. That had always been Mom’s department. But I had her recipes and I was trying to recreate them. She shouted advice from the upstairs bedroom periodically, which was hilarious and depressing at the same time.
Long distance baking, we called it.
I knew I was lucky to have her with me, no matter what the circumstances might be. I also knew that it would not be forever. It might not even be for very much longer.
Nick brushed his hands off on his jeans and reached for a muffin. I held my breath as he took a bite. He closed his eyes in ecstasy and I nearly fell over.
I’d thought Nick was sexy. I was wrong. He was sex.
I knew, I just knew, that was the face he made during sex. It had to be. Whatever lucky girls he slept with got to see it. There must be dozens of them.
Sudden and intense jealousy filled me. Why did I have to be so much younger? So dorky and unfeminine? I was sure he liked girls who wore lipstick and high heels. Girls with perfect hair and big boobs.
Although, at least I could compete in the big boobs department. They got even bigger when I put on a few pounds, something I was an expert at. The hard work on the barn kept me from getting too chubby, but the way I ate kept me from getting thin. It was definitely genetic. Mom had always had an hourglass shape, though I thought she carried it a lot better than I did.
And I really did love my food. Especially carbs. Speaking of which . . . I popped a broken piece of muffin into my mouth.
Huh. They were good.
“These are amazing. I didn’t know you could bake.”
"There's a lot you don't know about me," I said mysteriously. Well, I was trying to be mysterious but I was pretty sure I was failing at it.
Why do you even bother, girl? You don't know how to flirt. You’re an open book. A boring book, too.
But if I were honest with myself, Nick looked pretty intrigued. Maybe . . . but, no. He still thought I was a kid. He’d just said it less than a minute ago. At least I had a friend, though. It was definitely better than nothing. It was nice to have someone to talk to even if it was just for a little bit every day. Like Mama always said, it was the little things that mattered, you know?
Mama was right about a lot of things. Not about Nick. Because she didn't know about Nick. I was too freaking embarrassed to even tell my own mother how I felt.
Yeah, it was that cringingly embarrassing. The idea of his liking me back was so ridiculous. No one on earth was more out of reach than Nick. He might as well be a movie star.
And yet here he was, eating my muffins.
“Can I have another?”