Page 1 of Catching Mr. Right

Chapter One

MANDY

I push my sunglasses off the bridge of my nose and inspect the guy with the horse in the middle of the enclosure. The dappled gray runs circles around him, clockwise and then counter-clockwise. It moves into the circle and the man jogs a few steps back, then he moves forward and the horse prances back. The gorgeous creature snorts, paws at the ground, and then rears up at the precise moment the man crouches and sweeps his leg out and around. It looks like they’re dancing, or maybe sparring as the guy bolts upright and the horse brings its hooves down.

My heart races, and I slam my eyes shut. Any second now the crack of hooves on skull will echo in my ears. I just know it. Instead, Summer lets out a low whistle, and I open my eyes to see the man literally dancing with the horse. Then the man turns to the side and the horse, as though on cue, twists away. A sheen of sweat makes its beautiful coat glisten in the hot mid-afternoon sun. “Unbelievable.”

The guy’s pretty sweaty too. Deliciously so. He’s also muscular and tanned and although he’s too far away to make out the details, inked like a shirtless god. Carved from marble forearms, biceps, and shoulders ripple as he twists and turns in the middle of the circle the horse beats with its hooves. And can we please take a minute of silence in thanks to his momma and the DNA that made those cut lines. Oh what a V that peaks out of a pair of faded denim jeans that loosely hug his hips. What I wouldn’t give for a pair of binoculars. I set my chin on my palm and rub my fingertips against my parched lips. I’d rather lick the salt from his skin than from my own, but beggars can’t be choosers and sometimes, well, all the time with me, I have to settle for fantasy.

“I love working here,” Summer says, leaning against the top railing of the fence we’re both standing on. She swats lazily at a single buzzing fly that’s trying unsuccessfully to land on her nose. “Claire and Razer are great to work for, and the kids are amazing. It truly is unbelievable that I got so very lucky.”

Summer Sweets was born lucky as far as I’m concerned. From the day she set foot in the school where I worked, she reminded me of a horse shoe or a rabbit’s foot. Not that she looks like one. The girl is naturally gorgeous. It’s more like she just gives off this lucky vibe that begs to be rubbed off. I once accused her of having magic pussy dust. I wish it would rub off on me. “I was talking about the hot stranger we’re ogling.”

“Oh.” She peers at me from the corner of her eye, a playful smile skipping across her face. “I thought my brother was the man of your dreams.”

A puff of dust kicks up under the horse’s hooves. “He is. Was.”

I shake my head. Was it really last fall I was trying to pique his interest? I need to give myself a serious pep talk about how I’m not going to be the kind of girl to pine over the man of my dreams when he isn’t willing to give me the time of day. There’s only so much holding out for a man’s attention a girl can do before she must give up, even if, for a moment, I thought I had Sam Sweets’s attention focused on me. But he was winging his way back to Los Angeles as soon as Summer made up her mind about staying with Gabe and Dylan, and he hasn’t been back. Not even for a weekend. Slumping, I prop both elbows over the railing and watch the deliciously sexy man in the middle of the yard. “Look, maybe I’m like Baskin Robbins, and one flavor simply won’t cut it.”

“Ice cream, huh?” Summer jumps down from the fence and swipes her palms across cute white denim and gingham patched shorts.

I drop from my perch and follow her. “They both melt in your mouth. Plus ice cream is made out of cream and—”

“I get it. You don’t have to explain.” She rolls her gaze to the sky that stretches out in an endless blue ceiling above us. A few wispy clouds, no thicker than the dust kicked up by the horse behind us, dot the horizon.

“Well, not to you,” I agree. “If anyone should understand the whole jizz, sperm, cream angle it would be you with your two hot studs.”

“That’s true.” She laughs. “So you’re over Sam then?”

Over him? That’s a tough call. Realistically, I don’t know him well enough to be into him or under him, and yet I am and I want to be. “You didn’t settle. Why should I?”

Although hooking up with Sam Sweets wouldn’t be settling. He would be more like winning the sexual lottery. Probably. Maybe. Or at least I suspect he’d live up to his name and be sweet in all the ways that count. I can tell because he’s Summer’s brother, but also because the first time I looked into his bright blue eyes I knew he’d be charming and nice and gentle and just a tad dirty. The glint in those baby blues when I grabbed his ass in a firm handshake made my belly flip-flop like a pancake.

Actually, now that I’m thinking about it I wouldn’t mind a pancake. A scoop of French vanilla ice cream on top would be great. Melted rivulets of cream, dripping and sweet over a firm stack… “Who is that anyway?”

“The guy with the horse?” She shrugs as we march up to Bennington Ranch. “I don’t know.”

Claire’s sitting on the porch swing out front. A floral cushion tucked onto her lap balances her laptop while she types. “Casper Morgan,” she says without looking up. “He’s our new chef. Or at least he will be for the season.”

“What happened to Oliver?” Summer asks.

Oliver’s been with the Benningtons since they started the ranch a couple years ago. He’s a total stud muffin if you’re into kindly older guys who know how to cook and flirt, but the twenty-five-year age gap is a little ick for me personally. Okay, I have managed to talk him into letting me run my hands through his salt and pepper locks once or twice, but still, he’s not really boyfriend material. At least not for me. I have standards. Expectations.

“He’s not leaving, is he?” Summer asks. “He’s so good with the kids when they do cooking lessons.”

After her love life exploded like so much vomit over the town and through the media and consequently the entire planet —stupid technology making it impossible to keep secrets— the school board decided that a woman in a relationship with two men was probably best suited to a career that didn’t involve educating young minds. Luckily, Claire and her husband didn’t agree and neither do the grateful families Summer works with now at the ranch.

“He can’t keep up with peak season on his own.” Claire finally closes the laptop and looks up to smile at us. “Plus he decided he needed a vacation, and Razer had a friend who was looking for something to occupy him over the summer.”

“He’s good with horses,” I say, glancing back toward the yard, but neither man nor beast are visible. Pity. He’s really good at being half naked too.

“That’s his horse. Having somewhere to stable her was part of why he agreed to man our kitchen for the next three months.” Claire braids her auburn hair over her shoulder and ties it off with an elastic band before jumping to her feet. “Do you still want to volunteer this summer, Mandy?”

“Definitely.” I’ve spent so much time at Bennington Ranch since Summer started working here that it wouldn’t make sense not to put in a few hours with the kids that come to stay for the season. “Do you think I could work in the kitchen?”

Both women titter, and when they stop it’s only because something caught their eye over my shoulder. I bet I know what it is too, by the way it holds their attention. Also the smell of horse mixes with the heady aroma of masculine sweat and musk. I may be drooling. My heart may beat staccato as I turn slowly to face Casper Morgan.

I’m greeted with dark hair, deep chocolate eyes, and a sinful mouth that gives no indication of the man’s present mood. “Have you worked in a kitchen before?”

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