This Kiss. Teresa Southwick

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and one.”

      “Do you think it’s anything serious? Should I take him to—”

      “Doc Holloway?” she asked, raising one eyebrow. “I actually graduated very near the top of my medical school class. Then I did a double residency in pediatrics and internal medicine. I could get a complex about you guys running to Doc Holloway when an honest-to-goodness doctor is within spitting distance.”

      “Sorry. I forgot.” It probably had something to do with the fact that every time he laid eyes on her, he felt like he’d been kicked in the head by his favorite horse. That didn’t exactly help a cowboy put his best boot forward. “Did you check him over?”

      She nodded. “I always have my medical bag with me. Ears and throat looked okay. His chest sounded clear. At this point, there’s nothing to treat. Some kids just run a temp when they get run down. Mom knows what to do for the symptoms—rest, meds to control the fever, and lots of fluids. He was keeping a low profile when I left the house.”

      “The Texas tornado? That’s a miracle.”

      She laughed, showing straight white teeth and a world-class smile. Before he could stop himself, he thought that she should do it more often. His next thought—why should he care if she did?

      She stepped up on the first rung of the fence. “Since your son didn’t argue with the diagnosis and treatment, I figure it’s probably what he needs.”

      “You’re the doc.”

      “You finally remembered.”

      He looked down as he shuffled his boots in the dirt. “You make it hard for a man to forget.”

      “Sorry. It’s gotten to be a habit I guess, because of my medical training. Speaking of which, Ben was pretty vocal about not wanting to drink so much. I suggested that soda was a good fluid to push. That put a sparkle in his eyes.”

      “Pretty smart,” he said. “But you always were.”

      “Yeah.”

      Her smile dimmed a shade at his remark and he wondered why. “Since Ben’s in good hands with your mom, what do you say you put yourself in mine? In a manner of speaking.”

      The porcelain-smooth skin on her cheeks flushed pink. He hadn’t intended that as a double entendre. But now that he thought about it, touching her wouldn’t be too hard to take—if the parts of her that saw daylight were half as soft as the parts of her he’d been imagining that didn’t.

      “Have you ever heard the expression ‘like father, like son’?”

      He nodded. “Why?”

      “Because you’ve got the same gleam in your eyes that I saw in Ben’s. Somehow I don’t think yours has anything to do with soda. So I have to assume it’s role reversal.”

      “You lost me,” he said, shaking his head.

      “Now you’re the teacher and I’m the student.”

      “Ah.” He couldn’t suppress a grin.

      She raised one eyebrow. “You wouldn’t hold that against me, would you?”

      “You mean that whole dictator thing you had going on in high school?” He shook his head. “It never entered my mind.”

      “Then why are you smiling like that?”

      “Me?” he said, pointing to his chest. “I’m not grinnin’ like the price of beef went sky-high. I never smile.”

      She looked warily at the animal waiting patiently beside him. “I don’t have to get on that horse, you know.”

      Dev glanced at the gelding. “You mean Trouble? Why he’s as gentle as they come.”

      “Then why is he named Trouble?” she shot back.

      He shrugged. “Seemed to fit. He was sickly from the day he was born. Took a lot of nursemaiding. But he grew up big and strong. Didn’t you, boy?” he said, patting the horse’s neck.

      “I have a bad feeling about this—”

      Something deep down inside Dev said don’t let her back out. Don’t let her walk away now. “Look, Hannah, I could shame you into this. The words yellow, coward and chicken come to mind. But I won’t stoop to name-calling.”

      “Thank goodness,” she said wryly.

      “Unless you force me to.”

      “Okay. Challenge noted and desired response achieved,” she said, climbing over the fence.

      He noticed that she kept him between herself and the horse. Then her eyes grew bigger and bluer as she stared up at the big, gentle gelding.

      “We can ride double until you feel comfortable,” he offered.

      “What makes you think riding with you would make me more comfortable?” she asked, looking at him.

      He hadn’t thought her eyes could get any bigger or more beautiful, but they did. And he had a feeling when she was talking uncomfortable, it had more to do with him than the horse. Why that should make him feel like grinning, he couldn’t say. The fact was—he wanted to, but of course he didn’t.

      “I’ll ride behind you till you get the feel of it up there. Till you’re not as jumpy as spit on a hot skillet,” he added.

      “I haven’t heard that one since I left Texas.”

      “You ready to give it a go?” he asked.

      She caught the corner of her full bottom lip between her teeth as she looked from him to the horse then over her shoulder to the house as if she wanted to take off at a dead run. Finally, she met his gaze and straightened her spine. “Okay. Never let it be said that Hannah Morgan, M.D., is not full of gumption and grit.”

      There was the girl from Destiny that he remembered. For just an instant he’d heard the Texas drawl back in her voice. The snappy, husky, seductive tone turned his thoughts to things he couldn’t do on a horse. Well, he could, but it would be damned stupid, and pretty uncomfortable.

      Whoa. Down boy, he thought. Rein in that idea pronto. This was a friendly lesson. He only wanted to teach her to ride, as a favor to her mom. The least he could do was pay some attention to Polly’s daughter during her visit, to show her a good time.

      Is that why it seemed so important to get up close and personal? Just a good time? For her or him? Not to mention that there were lots of ways to make her feel easy on a horse without riding double.

      Ignoring that sensible thought, he said, “Lesson number one—you need to make nice with Trouble.”

      “I think I’ve already done that. Just by showing up,” she said. Hesitantly, she sidled up beside him.

      He looked at her and wondered who she thought she’d made nice with—the horse or him. “Not even close,” he answered. It was safer not to make it about him. “You’ve got to touch

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