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  “And she’s got nice legs too,” Reese prompted. “Dancer’s legs. But you noticed that the second you saw her.”

  With a chuckle, Sam said, “Hard to miss. And yes, she’s the prettiest damn thing I’ve ever seen. But, Reese…” His expression turned serious. “I’m not looking to hook up with anyone.”

  She was quiet a moment, contemplative. Then she set aside her fork and, in an equally serious tone, said, “Charlotte’s getting married. You heard it yourself. She’s happy in Iowa. Maybe it’s time for you to move on too.”

  He felt that familiar tic in his body that was a natural reaction to the mention of his old flame. “I’m happy for her. You both know that. Marrying me and being a part of the Bennett family never would have suited her. She’s not as thick-skinned as you, Reese. And I kept her from Dad and Judith for so long, it was inevitable they’d trash her because they felt slighted. I own that mistake.”

  “You tried to protect her,” Reese said. “That’s not a mistake.”

  “Poor judgment, then,” he countered. “Call it what you like. The fact remains, when I finally sprung her on the family, they shredded her. She couldn’t handle the tension and pressure at family gatherings. Given the number of Bennett events, it was impossible to imagine how awkward Charlotte felt. Skipping them only made it worse for her when we finally did show up somewhere. It aggravated the hell out of me to have Judith and Dad glaring at her and constantly putting her down—no matter what I had to say about it.”

  “Sky would give them a run for their money.”

  Caleb glanced her way.

  She flashed him a spirited look. “Just sayin’.”

  Sam chuckled again, finding her amusing. “You’re probably right. But I haven’t dated for a while and I’m not intending to anytime soon.”

  “But you are going to Pietro’s with us on Wednesday night.” It wasn’t even a question—apparently, she’d already made up his mind for him. “We have a reservation for ten people. The Wades, the Bains, the Mills, me and Caleb, you and Sky.”

  He shook his head at how fast Reese operated. “Does she know about your maneuvering?”

  “I mentioned in passing that I’d invite you. She didn’t seem to mind.”

  “Says you,” Sam chided.

  She refreshed her own glass of wine and added, “There is nothing wrong with two people being attracted to each other and having dinner together. Especially when amongst friends.”

  Sam speared Caleb with a Lord help me look. His brother merely shrugged. Traitor.

  Sam said, “I’ll go, because I never pass up dinner at Pietro’s. But don’t go makin’ anything out of anything.”

  “Right,” Caleb said with a hearty laugh. “Try to remember who you’re talking to, bro. Once Reese gets something in her head, it isn’t going anywhere until it’s finished.”

  “I think she could use the change of pace,” Reese continued. “Here in Wilder and with someone new. Seems something sketchy went down in Nashville—so bad she won’t tell me anything about it, except that her former manager-slash-ex-boyfriend tried to con her out of a healthy wad of cash.” Reese frowned. “To tell you the truth, I think more than that happened. But she won’t say a word about it.”

  Sam recalled the tormented looks that had flickered in Sky’s eyes when she’d been in the stable. Yeah, she’d been disturbed by the sorry state of the horses, but he’d swear more brewed inside her than loathing for people who abused animals.

  “You don’t think—”

  “Hey now, quiet down,” Reese told him. “Here she comes with dessert.”

  Moments later, the new and unexpected object of Sam’s desire stepped out onto the deck, carrying a large oval tray and a tray jack. She snapped open the latter and carefully balanced her load on it. She doled out dessert plates and forks, then placed three samples in the center of the table.

  She said, “I told Reese that I mostly bake cakes, but I’ve got a killer recipe for key lime pie. One taste of this,” she gestured to the appropriate dish, “and you’ll never think of key lime pie the same way again.”

  “Looks kinda like cheesecake,” Sam commented.

  She smiled at him, dimples and all. “It has the consistency of cheesecake, maybe a bit firmer, and the height of meringue. Along with the most vibrant snap of lime you’ll ever taste.”

  “Sold,” Sam said as he reached for the plate.

  Caleb grumbled, “So much for sharing.”

  “I also have Italian rum cake,” Sky told them. “Can’t go wrong there. And chocolate lava cake.”

  Reese instantly reached for the chocolate. “This one’s all mine.”

  “Well, I’m not gonna complain about being left with the rum cake,” Caleb said before digging in.

  No one spoke for several minutes, but there were plenty of moans of pleasure to fill the silence. Sky served coffee while they ate.

  When Sam finished his dessert, he settled back in his chair and said, “That was not a slice of pie. That was a slice of heaven.”

  “Please,” Reese said on a dreamy sigh. “I’m about to orgasm over chocolate.”

  “Joke’s on both of you,” Caleb added. “This rum cake just rocked my world.”

  Sky planted a hand on her hip. “No need to flatter me. I already told Reese I’d take the job.”

  “Darlin’,” Sam said. “This is not flattery. This is genuine appreciation for your culinary talents. You gushed over what we do at the ranch, and now it’s our turn to admire what you have to offer.”

  Took some doing to keep his gaze on her face, rather than let it roam her wickedly delicious body as he thought about what else she might have to offer.

  Though, dammit, he needed to keep his libido out of this. He had way too much work to do to be distracted by the fiery redhead.

  Reese said, “Whatever little insecurity you had about not being able to make desserts for the inn had better fly from your head right here and right now.”

  “Well,” Sky said, “we’ll see how you feel tomorrow night.” She turned on her boot heels and sauntered off, heading back into the dining room.

  Sam enjoyed the view of her backside, stifling a groan of unadulterated lust.

  Yet again.

  Chapter Three

  Sky took her mother’s recipe box to the inn the next day. She pulled up a stool at her workstation and flipped through the index cards covered with neat penmanship. It was Friday, and the reservations for the evening weren’t overwhelming. Reese had tallied a count of seventeen people thus far, and had indicated the dining room tended to get a few walk-ins on the weekend nights. Seemed fine dining hadn’t quite caught on in Wilder.

  Sky’s first stint as a pastry chef the previous evening had been a slow one, what with only a family of four to bake for, along with Reese, Sam and Caleb—and the inn’s staff, since she was making full cakes and pies. Might as well collect as many reviews as possible, she’d deduced. Thankfully, they’d all been positive ones. But this evening would be a bit more challenging.

  She also knew that as word of the inn’s opening spread, there’d be more and more reservations in the book and she’d have to step up her repertoire.

  So she needed to dive in and start perfecting some recipes to keep the dessert menu fresh, flavorful and, God willing, fantastic.

  She studied the card for her mom’s renowned salty caramel ice cream—homemade ice cream, no less—and nodded. Excellent choice. Then she decided on a staple, tiramisu, and one of her own classics, strawberry-mousse cake with white-chocolate ganache.

  All three were hits.

  Sam devoured one of each after dinner with Reese and Caleb, and then told her, “I’m willing to be your taste tester. Gonna have to put in a few extra workouts during the week to compensate for the calories, but it’s a sacrifice I’ll gladly make.”

  She smiled. “Nice to know you’re so dedicated to the cause. I’d hate to let Reese down with mediocre desserts.”

  “My stomach’s all y
ours, darlin’.”

  “Fearless of you, since you have no idea what experimental confection I might screw up.”

  He said, “If you’re gonna take one for the team, this is the way to do it.”

  She found him incredibly charming. Not to mention so freakin’ hot. A few beads of perspiration broke out at the nape of her neck when her gaze dropped to his ripped abs, outlined against his navy-colored T-shirt as he stretched languidly. It’d take years and years for that man to get doughy even if he ate three desserts a night.

  Sky reluctantly dragged her gaze from the corrugated grooves of his midsection, outlined against the tight pull of blue material, as the tingles ran rampant through her body once again. Why’d she have the insane urge to slide her hands under the hem of his shirt and graze his abs and chest with her fingertips? Ever so lightly, teasing him. Making him want more. Making him hard.

  She bit back a groan.

  Steady there, girlfriend.

  He inspired thoughts she hadn’t had in so long, she’d figured nothing—rather, no one—would spike her lust ever again. Worse, he had her conjuring a few indecent fantasies she’d never even given consideration to before. He did things to her insides, melting her with his heroic horse saving. And what she wanted him to do to her body…

  She blinked. Averted her gaze.

  So off men.

  For good reason.

  Yet, something about Sam silently called to her. Maybe it was the way he cared so much about the horses. He was gentle and genuine with them. He wouldn’t intentionally hurt a soul, she was already convinced of it. Felt it deep in her bones.

  He was protective of the animals in his charge and not only did he want to help them heal, he respected them.

  When she slid a glance his way again, she found his gaze on her. He grinned, and it touched his emerald eyes, making them glow warmly.

  Exhilaration shot through her. Enticing at first, but as her heart suddenly stammered with an erratic beat, she realized she was moving quickly into dangerous territory.

  So she excused herself and focused instead on her job.

  Fueled by confidence born of great reviews, Sky spent the next several days mastering some of the more difficult recipes in her box. She also visited the stable regularly.

  On Monday, Sam introduced her to Dr. Dalton Andrews. Then he told the specialist, “Midnight’s taken an interest in her.”

  Sky smiled. “He’s so beautiful. And attentive.”

  Dalton eyed her curiously, then slid a gaze toward the stallion’s stall.

  She added, “I haven’t touched him. Just let him sniff around while I chat with him a bit. Sam told me he needs to get used to me first.”

  Dalton nodded. He watched Midnight come to the gate as Sky spoke. He suggested, “Why don’t we see if he’ll take some carrots from you?”

  “Sure.” She crossed to the stall and scooped out a handful of chopped carrots from a bucket hanging on a wooden peg next to the gate.

  Sam said, “Stand back a little, darlin’.” Concern tinged his deep voice.

  Over her shoulder, she told him, “I’ll be careful. I know what I’m doing. No startling him. Keep a good distance in case he rears up.” She returned her attention to the horse. “But he won’t.”

  “He’s still wary,” Sam reminded her.

  She smiled at the stallion. “I don’t blame you for that. But I bet you’re ready for a little treat.”

  Holding her hand palm up, she showed him the carrots. A puff of air blew from the horse’s nostrils.

  Pleased by his responsiveness, Sky said, “Good boy. You know I’m just here to help you, like everyone else. Show you the kindness you deserve.”

  Midnight sniffed around her hand, then nibbled the carrots. When he’d finished with the snack, Sky turned back to Sam and Dalton.

  “What do you think?”

  They both grinned.

  Sam said, “He’s smitten.”

  “So am I.” She glanced back at the horse. “Maybe someday, you and I’ll go riding.”

  “Now that you mention it,” Dalton said as he crossed to the tack room. “I’ve got an idea.” He disappeared inside, returning moments later with a hackamore—a bridle with no bit.

  But Sam cut him off before he made it to Sky. “Hold on there, Dalton.” His tone turned edgy. “Let’s not move too fast here. I don’t want the horse getting agitated with Sky and acting out.”

  “He hasn’t shown any violent or restless tendencies,” Dalton said. “And I don’t want her to put the bridle on him just yet. I only want her to hold it. Show it to him, so I can see Midnight’s reaction.”

  “He hasn’t had a bridle on him since he came here?” she asked.

  Sam turned to her. “No. First time we tried, about a month into his recovery, he shied away from it and that’s when he started cowering in the corner, not wanting anyone to come too close to him.”

  “I believe it’s fear of the bridle,” Dalton said. “He couldn’t escape the hitch of the truck because his reins were tied to it. There’s a bad memory and a behavioral issue to overcome. It’d be interesting to see how he responds to you, since he seems to trust you. And it happened quickly.”

  Sam crossed his arms over his wide chest. “I don’t know…”

  Sky stepped forward and extended her hand to Dalton. “It’s worth a try.” She accepted the hackamore.

  “He could react strongly, Sky,” Sam warned her.

  “Sure. But the horse whisperer here doesn’t think he will, or he wouldn’t be suggesting this. And I don’t think he will, either.” She grinned at Sam. “But I appreciate your concern for my wellbeing.”

  He snickered. “Hate to see anything happen to that pretty face of yours.”

  He’d said it flippantly, to ease the tension. She could tell by his tone. But the flare of desire in his emerald eyes told her there was truth behind his words.

  She smiled again. “Take a leap of faith with me.”

  Lifting his hands in the air, Sam said, “Something tells me you’re not going to let me talk you out of this.” So he gestured for two of his volunteers to join him. Just in case, obviously.

  Sky moved back to Midnight’s stall, keeping a measurable distance. She held the bitless bridle in her hands and showed it to the stallion. “Not gonna put it on you,” she said in a quiet voice. “I just want you to see this. It’s a harm—” She was about to say it was just a harmless piece of equipment, but that’d be a lie. For this horse, it’d been a trap. A confinement that could have cost him his life.

  She cleared her throat of the emotion welling within it and tried again. “I know it might seem scary after what you’ve been through, but no one here would use it to hurt you. Someday I’d like to put it on you and just walk you around. Let you get some fresh air and a change of scenery.”

  The horse backed up and returned to the far corner of his large stall. Sky sighed, her shoulders slumping.

  “Now, darlin’,” Sam said in a sympathetic tone. “Don’t take it personal or get discouraged.”

  “Sam’s right,” Dalton told her. “Midnight suffers from post-traumatic stress. It takes time to work through his distrust and his fears. It’s a survival tactic for him. When he goes into that corner, he knows we’ll leave him be. Not push anything on him. Let him relax and regain his composure.”

  “Right,” she said, disappointment in her voice. She turned back to the men. “I understand that. I just hoped he’d sniff it or something. Show some interest.” She gave the hackamore back to the vet.

  Sam said, “I’ll walk you up to the inn.”

  They left the stable. Sam strolled casually alongside her, his hands shoved in the front pockets of his jeans.

  Sky stole glances at him, finally saying, “In the back of your mind, you were worried Midnight might accidentally hurt me in order to protect himself. But in reality, you knew that wouldn’t happen. You suspected he’d snub me and you wanted to spare my feelings.”

  O
ne corner of his mouth lifted in a sexy grin. His eyes sparkled in the sunlight. “You made quick progress with him, right off the bat. I’m pretty sure you’ve got your hopes up that he’ll come around because he likes you so much. But like Dalton said, he experienced something traumatic—and Lord only knows how he was treated before that one incident, given the fact he was malnourished when we brought him here. He needs recovery time. At his own pace.”

  She nodded. “I realize that. It’d be okay if I kept trying, though, right?”

  He gave her a full grin that sent a ripple of excitement down her spine. “More than okay.”

  Sky took in his casual gait and non-assuming disposition as they headed to the inn. Yet for all of his nonthreatening ways—a result of the training he’d gone through to work with the spooked horses, yes, but possibly a reaction to her, because he seemed to sense the wariness surrounding her—Sam had a commanding presence. A magnetic one she couldn’t help but be drawn to.

  It went well beyond the fact he was gorgeous and had the most amazing smile. A sexy one that lit her insides and warmed her heart.

  Okay, heat literally flooded her veins. No denying that. It didn’t exactly make her feel comfortable. But the edginess creeping in on her wasn’t full-on disturbing. A very odd contradiction to process, because Sky was in such a peculiar and unsettling place emotionally. A peculiar and unsettling place in general.

  She’d been on a crazy downward spiral before she’d come to the ranch, and although she felt a bit more grounded than in past months, she still didn’t have her feet beneath her. The last thing she needed, in the grand scheme of things, was to get caught in a maelstrom of sexual tension with the extremely charismatic Sam Bennett.

  Even when he was doing his quiet, contemplative thing, he stirred something inside her.

  They reached the inn and she said, “Thanks for the pep talk. Hopefully I’ll do a better job with tonight’s desserts than I did with Midnight.” She placed a booted foot on the bottom step that led to the veranda. Sam gently gripped her forearm.

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself. It’s a healing process with him. Takes time.”

  “I know.” She sighed. “There’s just something about that horse. Something that makes me want to convince him he’s safe now and no one will be cruel to him ever again.”