Taming a Texas Rascal (Bad Boy Ranch #6) - Katie Lane Page 0,17
to do with the peace offering. He snorted and looked about ready to beat Sawyer to death with his hooves. “Angel, my ass.” Sawyer said. “Demon is more like it.”
“Demons are just fallen angels who deserve a second chance.”
Sawyer glanced over his shoulder at Maisy. When he’d left the house to head to the barn, she hadn’t been sitting on the porch and he’d figured she’d gone back to bed. But it looked like she’d taken a shower. Her hair was damp and she’d changed her clothes. Damned if an image of her wet, naked body in the hotel shower didn’t flash into his head and cause his dick to beg for attention. It didn’t help that she still wasn’t wearing a bra. Through her t-shirt, he could see the outline of the perky nipple that wasn’t covered by the sling. He knew the woman owned a bra. A black lacy one. Why in the hell didn’t she wear it? How could he keep his libido in check when she kept flaunting her body?
Angel must’ve felt his agitation because the horse tossed his head and bared his teeth. Before he could take a bite of Sawyer’s outstretched hand, Maisy started singing.
“’Rock me, granny, in your rocking chair. Rock me, granny, like a big bay mare. Oh-h-h, won’t you rock me.’”
The words to the popular country song were all wrong and sung in an off-key voice, but Angel didn’t seem to mind. He calmed immediately, as if someone had shot him with a tranquilizer. After only a few verses, the horse moved to eat the oats out of Sawyer’s hand.
Sawyer glanced at Maisy. She sent him a smug look and winked as she continued singing. She moved from Darius to Shania. By the time she had decimated two more songs, Sawyer had been able to apply salve to the crop lashes and liniment oil to his swollen fetlock.
It was only after he stepped out of the stall that Maisy finally stopped singing. “Is his leg broken?” she asked.
“No. It looks like stocking up. That’s when a horse’s leg swells from inactivity and improper feeding. The swelling should go down in a few days—especially if we can get him saddled and exercised.”
“You know a lot about horses.”
“At one time, I thought about becoming a vet.”
“And what changed your mind?”
“I wasn’t smart enough.” It was a lie. He’d been smart enough. He just hadn’t wanted to prove it. “So you’re a singing horse whisperer? Although you do realize that you got the lyrics wrong.”
“It didn’t seem to matter to Angel. He seemed to like your horse psychology too. Do you really believe luck plays a major role in life?”
He did. He and his brother were living proof. But he didn’t want to get into that with Maisy. “You certainly spend an awful lot of time eavesdropping on other people’s conversations. Or is it just my conversations?”
She shrugged. “I don’t eavesdrop. I’m just a good listener. Although I could’ve done without hearing the doc talk about your concussions. It might not have scared you, but it scared the hell out of me.”
He glanced over his shoulder and was glad to see that Chester had left the barn—no doubt driven off by Maisy’s singing. “Listen,” he said as he looked back at her. “I’d certainly appreciate it if you didn’t mention what the doc said to Chester and Lucas. I don’t want them worrying.”
She studied him. “Maybe someone should be worried. Especially since you don’t seem to be.”
“It’s my life. My choice.”
She opened her mouth as if she wanted to argue with him, but then she closed it and nodded. “Okay, I won’t say anything to anyone. But you owe me.”
He lifted his eyebrows. “I think I paid you in full when I saved your life.”
“You didn’t save my life. I could’ve gotten out of the way.”
“Sure you could’ve.”
“I could’ve. I’m extremely agile.”
An image of her straddling his waist popped into his head again. She was agile. His body longed to learn exactly how agile. But it would have to be disappointed. “Come on, Horse Pavarotti,” he said. “Let’s go see if Lucas has breakfast ready. I’m starving.”
As soon as Sawyer and Maisy stepped in the door of the house, Lucas yelled at them to take off their boots and wash their hands before they came into the kitchen.
There was plenty to eat. The long oak table held platters of steaming hot flapjacks, thick crispy bacon, meaty pork sausage patties, fluffy scrambled eggs with bell