Lead Me Home (16 page)

“What’s with you?” she asked as she placed a bowl of cut veggies and another one of cubed beef in front of him. “You look like you won the lottery.”

“I figured out how you can reach a wider audience with your cooking skills.”

She narrowed her eyes. “If you want me to try out for some cooking competition, you can forget that right now. That’s not me.”

“I know that. But what I came up with is perfect for you. You’re pretty and personable, so you could—”

“Cook in front of an audience? Not on your life!” She brought two glasses and a bottle of wine to the table and sat across from him.

“I wouldn’t ask you to do that, either. But what do you say to writing a cooking blog?”

At first she automatically rejected the idea. “No, I don’t think…” But before she completed the sentence, she paused, and now she was thinking about it. Anybody could start a blog, which meant that
she
could, too. If nobody read it, then she could just stop. The risk was minimal, the potential fun great.

If people started reading her blog the way she read others, she could share her cooking experiences and learn from those who came to chat. And best of all, she wouldn’t have to go anywhere to do it. All she needed was her laptop and a little help from a techie friend to create the site.

Matthew looked pleased with himself. “You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” He poured them each some wine.

“Maybe.”

“You are. I can tell from the sparkle in those beautiful green eyes. There are all sorts of things going on in your noggin.”

“Okay, yes. The more I think about it, the more I like it. It’s…” She smiled at him. “Brilliant, Matthew. Pure genius. Will you read it?”

He laughed and raised his glass in a toast. “I’ll read yours if you’ll read mine.”

“You’re going to blog?” What a happy little thought. After he left, he’d only be a mouse click away. Sure, it wouldn’t be the same, but they’d have a connection and she’d be able to keep up with his travels. Whenever he was nearby, she could invite him for the weekend.

“I decided it couldn’t hurt.” Using a long-handled fork, he put some veggies in the hot broth. “And while I was thinking how I’d set it up, I got the brainstorm that you could do the same thing with cooking.”

“Yours will be a hit. Your readers of
Think Like a Horse
will flock to it.” Although she hadn’t told him, she’d ordered the book. Sarah had loaned her a copy until it arrived, and she’d managed to snatch moments here and there to read a few pages.

“We’ll see.” He pulled chunks of carrots and zucchini out of the broth and started cooking the cubed beef. “I’m thinking of writing another book aimed at kids. I could promote that, too.”

“Another brilliant idea.” In her admittedly prejudiced opinion, he’d write a great book for kids. His positive attitude toward animals, people and life in general shone through his first book, and one aimed at kids likely would have the same can-do spirit.

“I can thank Lester for that project,” he said as he began to eat. “I hadn’t really planned to work the teenagers into Houdini’s training, but Lester showed up and suddenly it seemed like the most logical thing in the world.”

“You realize that Lester thinks you’re a rock star.”

Matthew paused, his fork halfway to his mouth. “He’ll get over it.”

“I don’t think so.” She was dangerously close to feeling the same way about Matthew.

“I admire Lester, too, and I’ve told him so. All the kids are pretty amazing considering the obstacles they’ve faced in life.”

“Very true.”

“They’ve also taught me a lot.” He paused to sip some wine. “They react differently to the horses than most adults do. They have fewer preconceived ideas about how to work with them and they’re…I don’t know…unselfconscious, I guess.” He pointed to the fondue pot. “This is really good, by the way.”

“Thank you. Would you tell me if it wasn’t?”

He held her gaze, his expression warm and happy. “Probably not.”

“So I can’t believe what you say? That’s no help.”

“You can always believe what I say. If I don’t mention that the food’s good, then I’m not crazy about it, but that doesn’t mean it’s bad. Everybody has stuff they don’t like.”

Folding her arms on the table, she pinned him with a look. “Name one thing. I haven’t found a single dish yet that you actually said you didn’t care for.”

“I’m not wild about anything with prunes in it.”

“Really? Why is that?”

“After my mom died, my dad took over the kitchen and started reading up on vitamins in food and what people should and shouldn’t eat. I think he figured that it was up to him to keep me alive by making sure I ate right.”

Her heart ached for the seven-year-old boy and his earnest father, who had probably been a young man himself, maybe even younger than Matthew was now. “I assume he was a big fan of prunes.”

“Oh, yeah. We ate them out of the box, and we ate them stewed. We ate them cut up on cereal, and I think once he mixed them into the meatloaf. That was the only time I wouldn’t eat what he put in front of me, and he finally admitted maybe prunes didn’t go so well in meatloaf.” He chuckled and shook his head. “I vowed when I moved out that given a choice in the matter, I’d never eat another prune.”

“Don’t blame you.”

He ate quietly for a few minutes before glancing up at her. “I’ve never told anyone about my dad and the prunes. It feels good to talk about him. Thanks for listening.”

“My pleasure.” She longed to go over and wrap her arms around him, but that might be interpreted as feeling sorry for him. She didn’t, but it was a tender and private little story and she felt closer to him because he’d told it.

“I feel more relaxed here than I have in a long time.”

“I’m glad.”

“Part of it’s the ranch house, and specifically this kitchen, but most of it is you.”

At the honest respect in his eyes, warmth spread through her, and this time it had less to do with sex and more to do with a deepening friendship. “That’s a very nice thing to say.”

“It’s true. You have a nurturing, calming presence that I’ve cherished from the first day we met.”

“And here I thought you were hot for my body.”

“I was. I am. But I also like just being with you, sitting across the table talking about things.”

“I love hearing that.” She sighed. “I feel the same, which means it’s going to be hell when we have to say goodbye in six days.”

“Six days? Is that all?”

She gestured to the wall calendar. “You can count them for yourself. Mary Lou and Watkins come back on Saturday afternoon, and my plane leaves Sunday. I’m due back at work Monday morning.”

“I don’t know why I thought we had more time.”

She smiled. “Wishful thinking?”

“That would be it.” He planted both hands on the table and pushed himself upright. “In that case, we need a little less talk and a lot more action around here.”

She drained her wineglass and stood, too. “Did you have something specific in mind?” She knew exactly what he had in mind, but she loved teasing him.

He carried the dishes to the sink. “Yeah, I thought we’d play cards.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.” He loaded everything in the dishwasher. “I carry a deck in my duffel bag, and I’ve been practicing my card-shark skills in the bunkhouse every night, so I think I’m ready to challenge you to a game.”

“Of what?”

“Poker, of course. That’s what all manly cowboys play.”

She knew he was up to something, but she hadn’t quite figured out what. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not a cowboy, and I’m definitely not manly.”

“I’m aware of those things, but you can still play poker.”

“What if I don’t know how?”

He glanced over his shoulder and grinned. “Even better.”

“I don’t see why that would be better. You’ll spend all your time teaching me how to play. That won’t be any fun for you.”

“Oh, yes, it will.” He dried his hands on a towel and came toward her. “Ready to play some cards?”

“I don’t think it’ll be fun for me, either. If you’re really good at it, and I’m really terrible, then you’ll win all the time.”

Looping an arm around her shoulders, he guided her toward the bedroom. “With the game I have in mind, we can both end up winners.”

“How?”

“You’ll see.” Turning, he closed the bedroom door, which created the sense of privacy they’d both come to cherish. Then he walked over to his duffel bag and crouched down to sort through its contents.

She took advantage of the action to admire the way his faded jeans hugged his buns. With a view like that to inspire her, she lost all interest in learning some silly card game. She couldn’t imagine why he was suggesting it when they could find so many more interesting ways to amuse themselves.

He rose to his feet, card deck in hand. He tucked it into his shirt pocket and walked over to sit in the suede chair. “Take off your shoes.” He pulled off one of his boots. “We’ll play on the bed.”

“I can think of plenty of ways to play on the bed that don’t involve cards.” But she humored him and nudged off her shoes before climbing onto the quilt.

He sat cross-legged facing her and took the pack of cards out of his shirt pocket. “So you’ve never played any kind of poker?”

“Nope.”

“Then this is a good place to start. The French call it
tisonnier deshabillé.
”

“Which means?”

“Strip poker.”

12

A
FTER THIRTY MINUTES
and much hilarity, Matthew had things pretty much the way he’d wanted them. Aurelia was down to her skimpy little panties and all he’d given up was his belt. Watching her entire body turn pink with frustration whenever she lost a hand was the most fun he’d ever had playing cards.

She was catching on to the game, though, so he decided to let her win a couple to bolster her confidence. After that he was minus his socks. Then she surprised the hell out of him by winning on her own without him having to lay off his game.

His shock must have shown, because she started gloating. “Didn’t expect me to win that time, did you?” She preened and fluffed her hair, which fell to her shoulders now that she’d had to give him the clip she’d used to hold it on top of her head. “Take off your shirt. I’m dealing.”

Every time she did that, he wished he’d thought of playing strip poker days ago. Aurelia dealing cards topless would give any man with a pulse an instant erection. The jiggle factor was outstanding.

She finished dealing and glanced at him. “Well? Why isn’t your shirt gone?” She picked up her hand.

“Sorry. Got distracted.” He popped the snaps on his shirt and took it off.

“Mmm, nice.”

He thought she was talking about her cards until he looked over and discovered she was ogling his chest. He shook his head. “I don’t get what’s so special. Now
your
chest is a work of art, but mine is just…there.”

“You’re a man. Of course you don’t get it. But a woman sees those pecs and abs and turns all juicy inside.”

“I’m obviously happy about that, especially in your case, but I still don’t get it.”

“Never mind.” She made a flapping motion with her hand. “Just play cards. I want those jeans off, too.”

“Nope. Your panties are going down.” Except his hand was crap. He’d have to bluff if he expected to win this one.

But a bluff only worked if the opponent believed it, and damned if Aurelia didn’t see right through him. She’d come to know him so well that his poker face didn’t work on her. She won the hand.

“Jeans,” she said. “Make them disappear.”

He had to leave the bed to shuck them, and sadly, it was his deal. The game was much more interesting when Aurelia did that job. He shuffled and dealt the cards. Apparently his luck had shifted about the time Aurelia became a whiz at the game, because he was in trouble again.

He really needed to win this one, and he didn’t have the cards to do it. In his mind, once her panties were gone, the game was over. He wasn’t going to make her play for his briefs. He’d gladly give them up.

But he wasn’t convinced she’d have the same strategy. From the way she was reacting to this contest, if he lost again, she’d make him suffer until he got the hand that would strip her of those panties. He had a bad habit of underestimating Aurelia, and he should have learned by now not to risk it.

As he’d feared, she had the cards and played them like a pro. “I do believe I’ve stripped you naked, Tredway,” she said. “So what now?”

“As the winner, you could graciously agree to take yours off, too.”

She shuffled the cards and looked very smug. “So it’s my choice?”

“Well, yeah, but I think—”

“Then we’ll keep playing until you finally win a hand, thus earning the right to have me remove said panties.”

He groaned. “So you’re going to make me suffer?”

“You were the one who had the bright idea of playing strip poker, or…what did you call it?”

“Forget what I called it. I was trying to be cute and made it up. Listen, how about if we put the cards away and just—”

“Nope.” Her green eyes sparkled with mischief. “I’m going to make you work for it, cowboy.” She dealt the cards, and when she was finished, she lowered her gaze to his crotch. “You certainly seem motivated to win a hand.”

“Don’t mock.”

“Oh, I’m not. Not at all. That’s a beautiful piece of equipment you have there. Now if you could only win a hand of poker, you could put it to good use.”

Matthew blew out a breath. “You’re depriving yourself, too, you know.”

“I know.” Her tone was saucy. “But since this was your idea, I’m enjoying the way it turned out. I’m on a power trip.”

He grimaced. “I can tell.” Desperation made him reckless, and he lost a hand he should have won. As he dealt the next one, he forced himself to concentrate. She was not an experienced player. He could do this.

The tide turned. He got cards and she got cocky. He managed to keep lust at bay long enough to play his hand with finesse.

He had her, and once he was sure of it, he casually reached for the condom packet lying on the bedside table.