Page 73 of Stables

Getting some water boiling in the teapot, I pull out enough of his favorite blend for two cups.

Paisley is happily kicking away in her high chair, a curly tailed shrimp clutched in each fist.

Dixon leans back in his chair, his dark eyes half closed watching me. The weight of his gaze makes my skin feel hot and my breath comes too quickly, making my head fuzzy.

When I carry the saucers carefully over, all I can focus on is him.

The short growth of whiskers on his jaw, the tiny touch of gray at his temple. And the way his full lips purse so slightly when I get closer.

I wonder what they taste like?

He’s been so patient with me, will it be the same if I did bring him into my bed?

Matt was never gentle, and so horribly selfish I don’t know if he ever got me off.

I hate that he was my first.

Dixon has to be better than that.

When I set the cups down, I let my thigh brush his before sliding into my seat.

He shifts to pull the contact away.

No, I need to fix this.

Turning, I frame his leg with mine, trapping him between my knees. “Tell me about your family.” I take a sip, trying my best to look innocently over the rim of my tea.

The heat from his body burns against me. I can’t be any worse than the flames that I know are scorching my cheeks.

His amber eyes move slowly up until I can see the smoldering light behind them.

Can’t he feel this? All the air has been sucked from the room.

He clears his throat while reaching for his drink. “You’ll like my brother, Mason. He’s a bit of an ass—” He glances at Paisley. “—jerk. But he has a good heart. His wife died about ten, well, eleven years ago—”

“I thought he just had a baby?” My belly quivers when his muscles flex as he readjusts.

“He remarried last fall.” His mustache widens over a broad grin. “I even got to officiate.”

“Wait, so you’re Pastor Doctor Dixon?” It makes me giggle more than it should.

I’m just so damn conscious of our legs touching, it’s hard to concentrate on anything else.

“Something like that.” His rough palm drops to sit on my closest knee.

I almost drop my cup as a warm wave courses through me.

“He has two older kids. My niece Sophia, you’ve met. And her twin brother, Sawyer.” His thumb works a slow circle on the bare skin of my leg sending blazing rivulets with each stroke.

“Does Sawyer do rodeo stuff too?” Am I curious? Not really.

I just want him to keep talking in that deep hypnotic bass while he touches me.

“He could care less. After Carolyn died, he hated the ranch. I think he only stays because he doesn’t know what else he wants to do.” Dixon sets his cup down and leans forward, moving his palm further up the outside of my thigh.

So fucking close. The warmth of his breath makes my own catch in my throat.

“What would you do, if money wasn’t an issue?” He stares at my mouth as if he’s going to read the words before I say them.

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