Just Home for the Holidays - Deborah Cooke Page 0,26

and tipped his hat. He was about the same age as Hunter and good-looking, but not nearly so handsome. He didn’t have Hunter’s verve. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Richardson.”

“Do you drive your carriage here in the park?”

Reg shook his head. “No, we have a stable and riding school in Westchester County. We only come in for rentals, like the wedding earlier today. Hunter, as usual, caught me at the right moment. Ella and I would have been home by now otherwise.”

“Sorry we were late,” Hunter said. “Ella ate the first bouquet of daisies so I had to find more.”

Reg grinned. “Hunter always has to have the mares just so, so I told him he had to do it. I just leave her mane loose.” He shook his head and turned back to his driving, obviously leaving them to chat to each other.

“I thought you were late on purpose,” Chloe said softly. “Breaking rule eight.”

“No.” Hunter’s expression was innocent. “I was going to follow all the rules tonight and hope for a reward for good behavior.”

Chloe laughed despite herself. “No chance of that.”

“I’ll settle for another email story.” He winked and Chloe’s cheeks burned. He didn’t seem to have an issue with anything she’d said, though, which was a relief. He caught her hand in his, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, and Chloe didn’t pull away. He exhaled as if he’d run a marathon, then surveyed her with approval. “You look fabulous.”

“Thanks. You, too.”

“A little too tidy, though,” he mused. “May I?”

“What?”

“Just a tweak. It’s sexy as hell when you look a little bit disheveled.”

Chloe felt her cheeks heat and didn’t know what to say.

“You know, since you’re shopping for Mr. Right tonight, you should pull out all the stops.” He raised his brows, teasing her.

“What change would you make?” she asked.

He reached across her nape and caught a tendril of hair under his finger. He held her gaze as he tugged it loose from her updo, then twirled it around his finger before releasing it. His eyes glowed as he surveyed her. “There,” he murmured, his voice low enough to make her thrum.

Chloe’s throat was tight and her mouth was dry. She turned to watch the park go by, unable to dismiss her urge to reach out and touch Hunter. She could run her hand down his thigh, or stroke his jaw, or lean closer to steal a kiss... “I hope you can waltz,” she said instead and heard the huskiness of her own voice.

“Tango, rhumba, waltz, you name it. I’ve got it all covered.”

“You could be the perfect fake date.”

He pretended to be modest. “I didn’t say it.”

“It’s like you’ve done this before,” she said and he shrugged.

“Three proms.”

“No, more than that.”

Hunter kept his gaze averted for so long that she was sure he wouldn’t answer her. She was startled when he did. “The whole society thing takes me back.”

“Back where?”

“I grew up in Westchester County.”

Chloe was surprised for him to mention the affluent neighborhood. “You come from money?”

“No.” Hunter chuckled. “We weren’t fancy people, but we knew them. We worked for them. My parents boarded horses, trained them, taught people to ride. It was kind of nice to deck out Ella. We had a mare who always ate the flowers, too.”

“Are your parents still there?”

“No, they’ve passed away.” His tone was carefully controlled, as if that life had happened to someone else. “We sold the farm, divided the money. It’s all gone.”

“That’s why you don’t have a home anymore.”

“It’s better that way. We could never have kept it up.” He frowned, his thumb stroking her hand as he remembered. “I miss the horses, though. Riding competitions and endless shows.” He heaved a sigh, reinforcing his barriers again with a joke. “All those girls learning to ride and all those haystacks to roll around in. At the time, it seemed like endless work, but after it was gone, I realized it was idyllic.”

Maybe it even had something to do with Rhinestone Cowboy.

He met her gaze steadily. “So, there you go. Happy with your secret?”

Chloe stared back at him and only wanted more. Hunter might have sensed that, though, because he leaned forward and talked to Reg about horses and apparently about old friends.

“You should come out to the farm and ride,” Reg said.

“You just want to put me to work,” Hunter replied easily. “Free labor.”

“Well, there’s always lots to do. Do you keep up with anybody?”

Hunter shook his head. “It’s all in