Turn and Burn

His heart dropped to the tips of his boots.

Tanna swallowed hard. “Jezebel was a high-strung horse. The worst part was I saw the whole thing happen. I couldn’t save her. I couldn’t even help her. When the med techs came over, they were all fired up because they thought I’d just dislocated my shoulder when I hit the dirt—they didn’t know my right leg was useless because of multiple injuries and I wouldn’t let them touch me.”

His guts twisted into a knot. She’d suffered through three major injuries at one time. “I dislocated my shoulder in high school during a football game. Hurt like a bitch when they reset it.”

“I don’t even remember them resetting my shoulder. They knocked me out. I’d become hysterical after they wouldn’t let me near Jezebel. When I woke up, no one would tell me what’d happened to my horse. Finally, the next day, Ralph Costas, the rep for the owners, showed up in my hospital room and laid it out for me. I guess one of the bulldoggers who also used one of the owners’ horses for competition had called them.” Tanna’s hands balled into fists. “Ralph told me after the accident, Jezebel was confused and in a lot of pain so the vet tranqued her to reduce her stress level. They had no choice but to put her down. Everyone says it was easier—better—for me not to be there, but dammit, I should’ve been. After all we’d been through . . . I let Jezebel down.

“I spent the next two weeks in a fog of pain meds after the ACL tear repair surgery on my knee, having my arm in a sling and my ankle in a cast.” Tanna dropped her chin. “I’d lost everything, so in some ways, bein’ out of it for those two weeks was a blessing. I haven’t been able to get on—or even near—a horse since.”

Fletch didn’t offer her platitudes. But he did know how to offer her comfort and that’s what she needed right now. He scooted out of the booth and threw cash on the table. He held out his hand to her. “Come on. We’re getting out of here.”

She didn’t protest. She grabbed his hand, letting him lead her outside.

Rain fell softly, in a foggy mist rather than a steady downpour.

As soon as they were out of the glare of the diner’s front windows, he gently folded her into his arms. Tanna squirmed. He merely pulled her closer and murmured, “Hush. Let it go. There’s nobody here but us.”

“I can’t.”

“You can.”

“Why are you bein’ so nice to me after I told you—”

He kissed her forehead. “Because I am a nice guy. And because I really like you.”

She buried her face into his chest. She didn’t sob, even when he suspected she wanted to. Tanna just held him tightly, her palms flat on the middle of his back. Her fingers flexing and kneading like a cat digging its claws into his flesh.

Finally she raised her head. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. And I’m sorry.”

She looked confused. “For what?”

“This.” He dropped his mouth over hers, taking the kiss he’d been dying for. Her surprised gasp gave him easy access past her trembling lips and he slipped his tongue inside her mouth.

She tasted so sweet—tea and Tanna. And she gave herself over to the kiss, just like she’d given all of herself over to him the night they’d wound up in bed. Part of him wanted to crank the kiss to the combustible stage, where the steam rising off their bodies wasn’t from the rain, but from lust. Yet, for all her bold sex talk, right now Tanna was as skittish as a new colt. He wouldn’t give her a reason to flee. So he kept the kiss easy. Slow and thorough. A first-date kiss, because in his mind, that’s what this was.

Tanna retreated first. She tipped her head back to look at him.

Tiny drops of mist clung to her long eyelashes. With those enormous brown eyes, dark hair curled around her heart-shaped face and her well-kissed lips, she was so damn beautiful, looking at her stole his breath.

“That went beyond a friendly kiss, Doc.”

“Yeah, well . . .” He had no real defense so he didn’t offer one. “You’re the prime example of why the words hot and mess go together so well.”

She looked shocked for a second. Then she shook her head. “You’re possibly the only man on the planet who could say that to me and I’m not tempted to knee you in the ’nads.”

That sassy mouth made him smile. “That’s why we should hang out more often. In places besides bars.”

“Anything but horseback riding.”

Fletch framed her face in his hands. Before he could assure her that she didn’t have to be flip with him, that he’d be there for her anytime she needed him, she spoke.

“You’re not laughing.”

His thumbs swept across her cheekbones. “Because I don’t think you were trying to be funny.”

Tanna moved her head, forcing his hands to fall away. “What is it with you?”

“What do you mean?”

“You like to badger me about stuff and I let you. But it doesn’t piss me off like when other people do it to me.”

“See? We’ve already got that goin’ for us. The only way we’ll know if this”—he hated to say friendship, so instead, he emphasized—“thing will work is to spend more time together.”

Her eyes searched his. “No pressure to hit the sheets.”

A statement of fact? Or a request? “If that’s what you want.”