“You’re full of bad clichés today,” Tanna retorted, “and it’s not helping.”

“Nothin’ is helping. So yeah, I’m forcing the issue.” He stroked her cheek. “Because if you’re not ready to even touch a horse after all the hours you’ve spent out here at a goddamned horse ranch, I’m gonna kick Eli’s ass.” He smirked. “Then possibly yours.”

“Try it.”

“With pleasure. And here’s another thing I’m gonna force on you.” Fletch held her jaw and dropped his mouth over hers for a kiss that reminded her he was in charge.

Tanna didn’t try to pull away. She wrapped herself around him, holding on, making those needy moans that made his dick hard.

His little head tried to wrest control from his big head, but Fletch wouldn’t succumb to the seductive power of his body’s needs. Tanna used sex to distract him whenever he tried to discuss her issues and he’d be damned if he’d do the same thing. So he broke the kiss.

Brain one, c**k zero.

He rested his forehead to hers. “Please. Trust me. If this is too much for you, we’ll stop. But you gotta at least try.”

Her body tensed again. A very long minute of silence passed before she whispered, “Okay.”

Thank God. Fletch stepped back and held out his hand. “Come on. Let’s go catch us a horse.”

Tanna took his hand. “A slow horse. And I’d better get a big cookie after this demonstration of yours, Doc.”

“Sugar twang, I’ll personally feed you all the cookies you can eat.”

Chapter Twenty-two

Tanna was agitated.

The woman could not sit still after they’d returned from Eli’s. She prowled silently around the living area of his trailer, her brow furrowed. She’d give him one- or two-word answers if he asked her a question, but beyond that she remained quietly edgy.

Finally she said, “I’m goin’ to the pool.”

He slipped off his reading glasses and set them aside. He’d reread the same page for the last ten minutes anyway. “Thought the pool was off-limits to employees.”

“Only when there’s guests. The lodge is empty, which is why I’m not working tonight. I’ll see you later.”

The screen door banged shut behind her.

Normally he wouldn’t care that she hadn’t invited him to come along. But it did bother him, given the day had taken a toll on both of them.

During the grooming session with Eli’s docile trail horse, Fletch had stayed close to Tanna, offering silent reassurance by touching her as she touched the horse. The girls didn’t see her jerky movements or shaking hands, or recognize the higher-pitched tone of her voice. Eventually she calmed and Fletch had been proud of her.

While Tanna showed the tools of her barrel racing trade, breaking down the parts of the saddle, describing the different bits or snaffles, and the headstall—parts that made up the bridle—he remained in the shadows outside the barn, his body tense as if he’d absorbed Tanna’s fear.

So yeah, he’d like to blow off some steam too.

And he’d really like to see Tanna in a bikini.

The thought of rubbing oil all over her curvy body had him off the couch, searching for his board shorts.

Fletch gave her thirty minutes of alone time before he draped a towel around his neck and wandered to the pool.

It wasn’t a large pool, maybe twelve by twenty feet. The deepest end was only five and a half feet. A high fence enclosed the area, the wooden slats angled to allow air circulation within the space. The metal gate creaked when he entered and the smooth concrete was warm beneath his feet.

Tanna floated on an inflatable neon green lounge chair in the middle of the pool. Her br**sts spilled out of her red string bikini top. The matching boy short bottoms showcased the curve of her hips and her flat abdomen.

He could lick her up one side and down the other. Sucking on her sun-warmed skin and tasting her sweat mixed with the chlorinated water.

“What are you doin’ here?”

“Came to join you for a little water play.”

“No offense, puddin’ pop, but I’m not in the mood for any of your games.”

Jesus. That haughty twang of hers got him hard as a f**king rock. As did the nearly derisive sneer on her lush mouth. Fletch knew Tanna loved it when he went all “caveman on her ass” and he wouldn’t want to disappoint her when she’d baited him first.

“Now I’m hurt. Guess I’ll have to play with myself.”

“You go right ahead and do that.”

“Cool. But, sugar twang, you might wanna close your eyes.”

She dismissively flapped her hand at him. “I’ve seen this particular show before.”

Fletch grinned. “Don’t say I didn’t warn ya.” He grabbed her bottle of suntan oil and squeezed a puddle in his palm. Keeping his eyes on hers, he slowly rubbed that oil down his left arm. Taking his time to work it into his biceps, triceps and forearms. Then he switched sides, giving the right arm equal attention.

Was Tanna even aware that she’d licked her lips?

He drizzled oil on his chest, his slick hands leisurely massaging it into his pectorals, the tips of his fingers digging into every ridged muscle. When he reached his ni**les, Fletch let his head fall back as his thumbs traced around the puckered discs.

The sound of the float squeaking drifted to him. Was she getting a little squirmy from the show she claimed she didn’t want to watch?