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Poker Face Page 6


  “Let go, Meg,” Tink ground out his knuckles turning white around the rope.

  “You first.”

  “Uh huh. Ladies first.”

  “I’m not letting go until you do.”

  “Drew’s right. You are as stubborn as this horse.”

  There was a clicking sound from somewhere behind Megan, then another set of warm hands were over hers on the rope. Her heart soared. She was wet, cold, and trembling, and didn’t want to be where she was. Relief slammed into her as she glanced up to see Drew standing beside her, and realized the clicking sound was coming from him. He was calling the horse, and the horse was responding, calming.

  “Get back…I got this,” he said taking the rope from her hands and rolling it up like a garden hose. He moved closer and closer to the wild eyed animal, one slow step at a time.

  Another crack of lightening!

  The horse reared, clomped sideways throwing its head and neighing.

  “Drew!” she begged.

  The horse reared and struck, a hoof coming dangerously close to Drew’s head. Her eyes snapped closed! Tears came quick then; she didn’t know if it was all the excitement, or worry about this guy she barely knew, but she couldn’t stop the tears. She wiped them away with the tilt of her chin, feeling silly and praying no one noticed how weak she felt weak.

  The rain stopped, quickly as it had started, it was over. Rays of sunlight pushed through the broken clouds.

  “Shh, she won’t hurt me.” Drew didn’t even blink as he forcefully took hold of the horse’s harness on both sides and looked the animal square in the eyes. His brows pulled in and his jaw flexed. For a brief tense moment, Megan thought he might strike the animal to show who was in charge, but instead he unhooked the lead rope from the harness and stepped back setting the animal free.

  “You mean, after everything we just went through… you’re just going to let him have his way?”

  “Her,” he corrected. The rope hit a puddle as Drew cast it a few feet away, “and this is none of your business, Filly” The horse snorted raising her head in a last flicker of defiance. It didn’t last long. Drew stroked the velvety part of the horse’s nose with his fingers, his face softening as he blew at the horses pulsating nostrils. “You and I have an understanding…don’t we, Angel?”

  Megan’s mouth dropped. She watched Drew step back, turn and casually walk up to the barn. He clicked his tongue and within minutes the horse followed switching her tail.

  “Damndest thing I’ve ever seen.” Tink shook his head gathering the discarded rope and hanging it on a hook by the barn door. “I don’t know about you, but I worked up an appetite… thinking about hunting down some leftovers in the kitchen? Care to join me?”

  Something pulled her gaze to that barn.

  Curiosity?

  Disbelief?

  She had to know. “You go ahead. I think I’ll check on….”

  Tinks mouth turned up. “Drew?”

  “The horse… it was pretty spooked.”

  “Yeah, whatever you say beautiful. Go easy on him,”Tink shot over his shoulder making his way back up to the house.

  Megan had no plans of going in. It was understandable for her to want to see the barn, since she now owned it, or at least that’s what she mumbled as she lingered by the door staring in. There were five stalls on each side, another door straight ahead, open, blue sky and green fields, overhead was a hay loft. The barn smelled sweet and of aged wood, soft leather saddles and damp horse, was kept clean with fresh hay spilling out of each stall. She saw six horses, all impressive breeds: stallions, Appaloosas, and Arabians.

  How Megan had been there for three days and not noticed the horses was kind of unnerving. Was she blind? Or only seeing what she wanted to see?

  Drew’s horse was already in her stall eating apple slices out of his cupped hand. He ran a gentle hand along her slender neck. "Sorry girl, I should have brought you in before the storm hit. A lot's been going on. Forgive me?" The horse nuzzled Drew's side as if to say she would forgive him of anything.

  Awestruck, Megan felt herself drawn forward.

  Drew’s white T-shirt and cargo shorts were soaked. His messy, damp hair beginning to flip was what her mother would have called “shaggy, unacceptable for any responsible business man”. But Drew was anything, but business, the exact opposite. He wore what he wanted, done what he wanted, and answered to no one. It was as if he gave the finger to anything conventional. And to her.

  The guy was a walking contradiction. Son of a Millionaire, though he put no importance on money. Country boy, though he wore flip-flops and polo’s. Cold hearted smart-ass, though he loved animals, old cripples, and mute kids. What else about him was a contradiction? How her belly reacted to this new information was kind of unnerving. She’d heard of “feeling butterflies” but never experienced them until then.

  She was careful not to make a sound, but failed miserably. Drew turned giving her a brief chilling assessment causing her to freeze mid-step. His gaze slid from her as he walked over and starting putting out water and feed for the other horses.

  What now?

  Stand there and look like a fool.

  No.

  She’d come to check on the horse, and that’s what she intended to do. Confident in her right to do so she went over the horse that was eyeing her with disinterest as it crunched on the last of its apple slice. If she didn’t know better she’d believe the horse purposely shunned her by turning so its rear end was backed up to the stall door, instead of its head like before. If she wanted to pet something it was going to have to be its ass. Megan stood there awkwardly, hearing Drew chuckle from the other side of the barn.

  “Come here horsey…” she called reaching over the gate clicking her tongue just as Drew had done. The horse looked back, snorted.

  “You’re crowding her,” Drew said after a while.

  “I’m just trying to pet the stupid animal.”

  She heard the sound of footsteps coming closer, the brush of his overwhelming presence by her side. He covered her hand that was on the stall door with his own hand causing her to draw in a sharp breath and hold it. Like hell she’d let him see she was affected by his touch. He’d never touched her so tenderly. Lifting her hand he led her over to the next stall and placed her palm on the neck of the black Arabian standing tall and proud. “Well, you’re never going to do it like that. Here… rub Twilight.”

  “I don’t want to rub this one,” she hated the bratty tone of her voice at that moment, and decided for once to do what was asked of her without any further questions. He wanted her away from his precious “Angel”, who was she to pout about it. Her hand felt the silky flesh between Twilight’s quivering nostrils and she was filled with sadness, reminiscing over happier times.

  “What are you thinking about?” Drew’s breath warmed the curve of her neck causing goosebumps to rise all over her flesh.

  “My father….” She started and felt a sudden nudge against her left arm. “Angel” voicing her desire to be rubbed by running her velvety nose up and down Megan’s arm. Drew smiled, “See, all you had to do was give her some space and time to warm up to you.”

  “Is that why she’s so partial to you? You ignore her until she begs for your attention?” Megan wasn’t sure what she was inquiring about, his experience with the horse or women in general. Quiet, awkward silence, surrounded them. They held gazes, her hand idly stroking the horse’s muzzle. She couldn’t help noticing his eyes had dropped to her lips, and she quickly took a step back. “I….I should get up to the house, before Tink starts assuming we’re…”

  “We’re…what?” he prompted for more, leaning in close enough that she felt his breath light as a feather over her lips. He smelled like the rain, and his body’s warmth enveloped her creating a pull hard to resist. Wet curls were beginning to flip up just below his ears and she wanted so bad to put her fingers there. Her eyes followed his strong jaw line to his lips, which were slightly parted, her eyes l
ifted to his and she saw him staring at her mouth with the same interest. He raised his hand, and trailed a gentle finger down the side of her neck, out over the shape of her collarbone, back around to the hollow space where she was certain he could feel her having difficulty swallowing. Every part of her body hummed. If he could make her feel that much with just one finger…..

  Megan slowly took another step back knowing exactly how the horse felt when someone invaded its space, she whirled around to make a quick escape, and rammed into someone.

  “Hey! Watch it!” the girl squealed the high pitched tone of her voice made Megan cringe. She pushed Megan out of the way, and straightened her little sun dress. Her nose wrinkled as she studied Megan over tinted sunglasses perched on a thin nose. Hair the color of straw fell in perfect curls, parting over her willowy shoulders. Her hands went to her waist as her stance shifted in her stilettos. “Who’s the wet mutt, Drew?”

  Wet mutt? Who the hell did Ms. Florida think she was? Megan was five seconds away from giving her a shove she would remember when it dawned on her. The girl was right. She looked like crap, worse than crap, hideous: her hair was damp and tangled, her clothes were saturated, and she flinched as she stared down at the chunky boots.

  She looked like a cross between Big Foot and little orphan Annie!

  "Excuse me, I was just going..." Megan tried to maneuver around the girl, but it was hopeless. A corner of the girl’s mouth quirked with understanding, and she purposely blocked Megan in.

  Witch.

  The deep chuckle behind her told Megan he was there. She felt him purposely bump her backside as he passed knocking her off balance. She stumbled forward like a clumsy moron, giving him the dirtiest look she could muster on such short notice. Every nerve ending in her body came to life from the brief bump. What was happening to her? This guy was turning her inside out, upside down, and sideways.

  Do not look at him. Don’t you dare give him the satisfaction.

  Megan’s gaze went to Drew’s arm which slipped possessively around the girl’s tiny waist. He tugged the girl hard up against his chest, and leaned in crushing her lips with his. For once in her life, Megan was speechless, paying too close attention to the impressive lip action, instead of what she should be doing, which was walking away. Even worse, Drew seemed to notice her sudden interest as he finally broke the kiss and offered her a meek smile. “Sorry Filly, forgot you were still standing there.”

  “By all means, continue.” Have sex in the barn if you want, I was just leaving. Good grief Megan, get a grip. He’s not worth it. Don’t you dare cry! You’ll never hear the end of it if you let your emotions take over.

  He cleared his throat, and gave the girl in his arms an affectionate squeeze “Bailey, this is Megan, the girl I told you about.”

  “The bitch ruining your life?” The girl batted her eyes up at him.

  “Okay, I’m leaving now. Have fun you two. I’ll make sure to leave you a blanket and pillow out on the couch for when you come dragging up tonight, Drew.” His cheeks turned bright red making her almost feel sorry for him. Good. She hoped she’d gotten him into trouble with his girlfriend, and he wouldn’t attempt anything else stupid.

  The girl seemed oblivious to the tension between her boyfriend and Megan, or didn’t care, her palms went to his chest. Her fingers twisted the fabric of his shirt. “You’re all wet and smelly. Did you not take a shower?”

  As Megan was walking away she heard … “Um Filly, don’t think anything’s changed. I still have every intention of sleeping in my bed.”

  *****

  Exhausted, Megan quickly showered and went straight to bed. She rolled to her stomach and hugged her pillow to her with a content groan. Ah, the bed all to herself. It was wonderful. She snaked out a leg enjoying the coolness of the cotton sheets against her clean skin. Events from the day replayed through her mind, her sheep jumping fences: the magnificent horse in all her fury. Tink and her surprising fondness for the crusty old man. He was likeable. Drew. He was a different story: irresponsible, immature, cocky… the list was endless. Today was a clear indication this place was screwing with her head for her to think otherwise. Briefly she’d found herself very much aware of him. Sooner Megan listed the ranch with a realtor, found a buyer, and got the hell out of here the better. If she got aggressive she could possibly have a signed offer within the week, then she could go home, and things would go back to normal. She would forget Drew Mackenzie even existed.

  She smiled.

  Yes, forgetting him would be good.

  Her eyes became heavy, heavier and heavier until she drifted off for what felt like only minutes...

  “Move over, sleeping beauty.” Drew’s face was less than an inch away from Megan’s. His breath smelled like a bottle of Jack Daniels, sweet and overpowering. “Daddy’s home,” he added, collapsing down on her side of the bed and nearly missing the mattress all together. He barked with laughter, slid off one boat shoe, threw it across the room, and then went for the other his boney elbow coming down in the center of Megan’s back.

  “Drew, seriously, I’m trying to sleep,” she squealed in pain.

  “Yeah, well, I’m drunk, and finding it difficult to stay upright.”

  Her foot rammed into his hip bone as she attempted to knock him the rest of the way off the bed. “Tell me something that’s not obvious.”

  He gave her a wicked grin, half stood holding on to the side of the mattress for support, ducked pulling his shirt off over his head, and dropped his cargo shorts. Slow as possible he crawled—wearing only his boxers— over Megan’s rigid form to his side when he could have easily walked around. “I’m also horny.” Evidence of his erection was purposely rocked against her on his way over. He added, “but, that’s obvious too.”

  She drew in a deep breath, confused by the excitement that coursed through her body from his acknowledgement.

  “Get off me! You are disgusting!” Not only did he smell like a brewery, he also smelled like loud perfume. Thoughts of the way he’d kissed his girlfriend earlier caused Megan’s stomach to go queasy. She felt her blood begin to boil. The way he’d grabbed onto the girl as if he had to have her right then, right outside the barn, no matter who was watching. Megan actually felt like vomiting, her insides knotted as if he’d betrayed her in some way, which was ridiculous.

  A few glimpses of an actual caring guy under all the sexual innuendos and she was already feeling herself swayed into believing he had an actual heart beating somewhere inside him. And she was jealous of his girlfriend! Good Lord, his closeness was driving her insane.

  What was this unpredictable attraction, and curiosity, and more importantly where had it come from. Her sick need to fix someone broken? Wasn’t that what girls went for—losers they could try to change? No. Megan had never been attracted to those types. Why would she want someone she couldn’t find one admirable quality in from the start? Drew was his father. No one could change that, not even Ms. Florida who probably wasn’t even aware her boyfriend was trying to get into her bed after no more than an hour after being away from her.

  Megan scooted over so she was on the very edge of the mattress, giving him her back as he settled in under the covers. Drew slid over until his body molded her backside. His long fingers curled around her hipbone, digging “possessively” into her flesh as his breath hit the back of her neck. Heaven help her, they were spooning! Goosebumps covered her entire body from his warmth.

  “What are you doing?” Megan snapped, looking over her shoulder at him.

  “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m getting comfortable.”

  “Not there, you’re not. Move over to your side.”

  “It’s cold over there.”

  “I don’t care if you freeze to death. You’re not sleeping up against me.”

  He was quiet for what seemed like forever. Naïve, Megan actually thought he was considering moving over, but needed extra time because of all the alcohol he’d consumed. Either that or he’d pas
sed out. If that was the case, she’d just roll him over in a few minutes, no harm done. But then she felt his wet lips in the curve of her neck, gently, making a slow searing path towards her sensitive earlobes. If that wasn’t bad enough, his tongue retraced the path his lips had taken. His teeth nipped and pulled at her flesh, as his arms tightened around her waist. Her skin felt on fire. Involuntarily, her eyes closed as she felt tingles spread throughout her entire body making her toes curl, and moisture to pool in places it shouldn’t.

  “Drew…”

  “Shh…” his hand disappeared up under the fabric of her T-shirt, stopped before it reached its destination—her aching-to-be-touched breast—changing directions headed south. He got a hand down the front of her softie shorts, his fingers finding her slick heat when Megan elbowed him hard in the gut. “Ow….what was that for?”