“And that’s how it’s done.” Tyler steadied her, his fingers tightening on her hips.
Was he leaving them there longer than normal? Or did it just seem longer because she was hyperaware of his touch?
“Thank you for your help.” With his hands upon her and his presence boxing her in, a part of her wanted to stand there, maybe even lean back against him. There was something about him, about his masculine appeal, about his work-hardened body, about his rugged handsomeness.
Maybe she could understand to some degree why Nettie gushed over Tyler and treated him like a larger-than-life Greek god every time she was around him. Because he had a magnetic appeal that was almost too strong for a mere mortal to resist.
“I’m sure next time you’ll be able to do it by yourself,” Tyler was saying. “You seem like a natural.”
She released a laugh. “Reba could make anyone look like a natural. What is she, like, a hundred years old?”
“Ten.”
“Same thing in horse years.”
“There’s no such thing as horse years.” His voice rumbled behind her and hinted at humor.
“Dogs are seven times a human age, so why not horses too?”
“Because that’s a load of hogwash.” Was he leaning in closer?
“And what exactly is hogwash, Tyler?”
“It’s a saying we use to mean garbage.” Were his fingers on her hips tightening? Was his breath brushing against her loose hair?
No. She was just getting carried away and imagining things. “A washed hog is actually clean. So how does it mean garbage?” She had to put a stop to her dismounting lesson before she ended up like Nettie and stroked Tyler’s already-too-big ego.
Before Tyler could answer her silly question, she reached for the reins that were now dangling over Reba’s mane. With the reins in hand, she stepped forward, forcing Tyler to release her. Her motion prompted Reba to move too, putting several feet between her and Tyler and allowing her to draw in a full breath again.
She led the horse to the ranch hand who was still standing in the middle of the corral and had witnessed Tyler helping her dismount. Maybe the young man hadn’t realized how charged the lesson had been. Except, from the wideness of his eyes, she suspected he had.
Without a word, she handed off the horse, spun on her heels, and left the corral without a single look back.
12
A sibling dinner at Cliffside. It had been a while since they’d had one—at least since before Dad’s cancer diagnosis—and they were overdue.
Tyler straightened his tie as he approached the hostess. Behind her, the rustic dining room held an elegance that had won the ranch awards and made each meal an experience that guests raved about.
Dozens of twinkling lights lined the ceiling beams and provided a source of illumination along with the candles in crystal globes on each table. Fresh white peonies with eucalyptus graced each table that was covered in a white linen tablecloth. The gold silverware, gold-rimmed plates, and gold-rimmed goblets added to the beauty.
As if that weren’t enough, the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked a waterfall and the rushing river below, with a balcony just outside the windows for guests to relax on once dinner was over.
When Emberly had texted Tyler that afternoon to suggest it, he’d readily agreed. He’d already had plans with Wyatt for a horseback ride through the woods for their Friday evening activity, but they’d finished in plenty of time for the sibling dinner.
Even though Brock wouldn’t be there, at least Dustin was home for the weekend. Four out of the five of them would be ableto catch up and talk about Dad without him hearing what they were saying.
Tyler had already talked with Dustin last night after he’d arrived via helicopter. His brother was between clients and awaiting his next protection agent assignment, and he’d wanted to spend his free time with Dad, fearing it might be one of his last visits. Dustin had admitted he was afraid Dad hadn’t beaten the cancer and that the chemotherapy wouldn’t get what was left.
Whereas Kade always saw the cup as half full, Dustin always saw it as empty. Maybe there had once been a time when Dustin had been happy and his life promising. But something had happened to change him—something he never wanted to talk about.
“Good evening, Mr. McQuaid.” The hostess flashed Tyler a bright smile and watched him too eagerly.
She was new, and he couldn’t remember her name, but she was friendly and professional with the guests, which was all that really mattered.
She glanced through the dining room, which was almost full with guests in their best attire for the Friday night dinner and dance. “The back corner table is ready for you.”
“Thank you.” He tugged at his coat lapels before making his way toward the table they always reserved for one of their sibling dinners. In the corner against the glass wall, they had a little more privacy.
