visual contact hit him from his feet to his fingertips. His best friend, Cameron Jakowski, jabbed him in the ribs with an elbow and gave a low whistle of appreciation. Noah didn’t like that one bit. With three sisters and an independent working mother, he’d learned at an early age not to objectify women.
“Who is that?” Cameron asked.
“Fiona.”
Cameron raised his brows. “I meant her friend with the great legs.”
“Callie Jones,” Noah replied quietly.
Cameron chuckled. “The horse lady? Very nice. No wonder you’ve been keeping her to yourself.”
“That’s not what I’ve been doing.”
“Sure it is.” Cameron smiled. “Shall we go over so you can introduce me?”
“No.”
“I just wanna talk to her.”
Noah stood perfectly still. “Hard to talk without teeth.”
Cameron laughed loudly and began walking toward them. “Okay, I get the message,” he said once Noah caught up. “But introduce me anyway.”
He did so begrudgingly. Cameron liked women and women usually reciprocated. He was stupidly relieved when Callie seemed oblivious to his friend’s brand of charm.
Once the introductions were over Fiona dragged Cameron onto the dance floor. Noah bought a round of drinks and they sat down at a table way back from the noise of the playing band. It wasn’t long before M.J. went off in search of the man she’d arrived with and he and Callie were alone.
She looked nervous. And beautiful. He’d never seen her hair loose before. It was longer than he’d imagined and hung way past her bare shoulders. He felt like running his hands through it and tilting her head back so he could kiss her throat.
“You came back,” he heard himself say.
She glanced at him. “Yes.”
“I’m glad you did.”
“It’s still not a date.”
Her words made him smile, and Noah’s whole body thrummed with awareness. Being around her, sharing molecules of space with her, undid him on so many levels. “Of course not. We don’t date, remember?”
Her blue eyes sparkled. “Do you have to be so agreeable?” she asked quietly.
“Do you have to keep looking for a fight?”
One brow rose sharply. “You like provoking me. It’s probably because you were surrounded by women growing up. You know, the spoiled only son, indulged by his mother and adoring sisters, given license to say whatever he wants.”
He laughed. “I’m sure my mother would disagree with you.”
“Ha—I’d like to talk to your mother,” she said and he saw her flush.
“I’m sure she’d enjoy that, too. So where’s your family?”
She hesitated for a moment, like she was working out how much to reveal. “California,” she replied finally. “My mom lives in Santa Barbara. My brother Scott has a place in L.A,” she added. “He works for the fire department.”
“And your father?”
“He died ten years ago.”
Noah pushed his beer aside. “So why Crystal Point?”
“My dad was born in Bellandale and I vacationed here many times when I was young. After my—” She stopped for a moment. “After I finished professional competition I wanted to do something … else. I’d always wanted to have my own riding school and secured Sandhills Farm for a good price.”
“It was a courageous move,” he said. “I mean, without family support.”
“I had that. I still do.”
“Do you miss it?”
“California? Sometimes,” she admitted. “But I needed to … to get away.”
She’d said too much. He felt it with every fiber inside him. “Get away or run away?”
“Both,” she admitted.
“Have you been back?”
She nodded. “I try to get back every year to see my family.”
“You’re close to them?” he asked.
Callie nodded. “Very.”
“But you wouldn’t move back to California for good, would you?”
She looked into her glass. “I’m not sure. For the moment this is home.”
“That’s … good news. For Lily,” he clarified. “And the rest of your students.” He paused, looking at her. “How many students do you have?”
“Not nearly enough,” she replied. “I lost a few a while back. An unhappy client,” she explained. “Or an unhappy parent, to be precise.”
“Sonja Trent?”
Callie stilled. “You know her?”
“I know her.” He took a drink and looked at her over the rim of his glass. “How many more students do you need?”
“To stay afloat?” He could see her doing a quick calculation in her head. “About a dozen or so. I could advertise—but of course that takes money. If I hike up my tuition fees, I risk losing the students I have to one of the bigger equestrian clubs in town who do a group rate. And with insurance costs and the price of feed sometimes I feel like I’m …”
“You feel like what?”
“Like I’m pushing a barrow of manure uphill with a faulty wheel.”
He smiled, thinking how he knew that feeling. “I don’t think you should dismiss the idea of raising your prices,” he said after a moment. “Cheap doesn’t necessarily mean value. Sure, your clients could go to the bigger establishment—but would they get what you can give them? Probably not. One-on-one lessons with someone who has your experience is what customers will pay for. Your skills and knowledge make your time valuable, Callie—you’ve earned the right to be rewarded for it.”
Her eyes shone bright with tears, and in that moment Noah wished he knew her better. He saw vulnerability and pain and fought the instinctive urge to reach for her. Now wasn’t the time. But soon, he thought. Soon.
The compliment went straight to Callie’s heart and she fought the sting behind her eyes. Silly, but his words made her feel taller, stronger. Her defenses were down. He broke them down. No, not broke … something else. Somehow he took the barricade around her apart, piece by piece, holding each one of those pieces in his hand, showing her what he had in his palm, drawing
