Harvest at Mustang Ridge by Jesse Hayworth

Author:Jesse Hayworth [Hayworth, Jesse]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, Contemporary
ISBN: 9780451419163
Barnesnoble:
Goodreads: 20579051
Publisher: Signet
Published: 2014-08-05T04:00:00+00:00

15

For a first date that wasn’t really a first date, Wyatt went upscale, Three Ridges style. The Fancy Place—that was its name, even—had cloth napkins, a decent wine list, and a low-key atmosphere that conveyed “around here, a nice night out still involves denim.” Damien’s crowd would’ve been split on whether the post-and-beam décor and faux oil lamps were kitschy enough to circle back around to cool, and Wyatt would’ve preferred the watering hole down the street, but the way Krista’s face lit when they walked in and the hostess greeted her by name told him he’d called it right.

“You come here much?” he asked as the hostess led them to a small table tucked in a little alcove, where an arched window overlooked the red-and-gold sunset.

“Now and then. Birthdays, big announcements, that sort of thing.” She pinkened. “Never before on a date, though.”

With another woman, he would’ve quipped something about being her first. With Krista, he pulled out her chair and let his fingers linger on her nape, not entire sure of his moves. His usual dates, whether buckle bunny, artist, or connoisseur, were with him to see and be seen, with an expectation of some fun at the end of the night. Seeing and being seen meant something very different in a place like this, though, and Krista was nothing like his usual. She rode like a lithe blond centaur, juggled a big family and an even bigger business like it was nothing, and made room for animals—and, he suspected, people—that needed her. She humbled him, amazed him, made him want to step up and do what he could—with Jupiter, with the guests, with her. But the thing was, while she might be different, he was his same old self. And he didn’t want to screw this up.

As if he’d said that last part out loud, she looked up at him, squeezed his hand where it rested on her shoulder, and said, “Sit down, cowboy. As long as we keep talking and stay honest this time, we won’t get ourselves in trouble.”

And, just like that, everything was okay. Grinning, he moved around to take the chair opposite her, so their knees bumped intimately beneath the table. “When did you get so smart?”

“Rumor has it I was born that way.” She flipped open the menu. “Now. Where do you stand on red wine? I could use a glass after today’s ride.”

He chuckled. “I’m up for a bottle. I give our first timers an A for effort, though.” When it came to guided trail rides, there was nothing quite as hairy as two dozen rank beginners, several of whom—including a couple of firefighter brothers from Yonkers—thought they already knew everything because they had watched both City Slickers movies. So when the waitress came around, Wyatt ordered a bottle of decent red and he and Krista shared a grin. And damned if his chest didn’t tighten at the sight of her smiling opposite him, with the fading sunset beyond the window casting her face in copper and gold.

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