A Stallion's Touch Read online

  John laughed. “I think we’ll probably have more fun with the football!”

  Marah narrowed her gaze at him. She stood on tiptoe to kiss his lips, gently pressing her mouth to his. “I like football, too, but not all the time, and not when there are a million things that have to be done to pull off this holiday.”

  John laughed as he gave her a light squeeze. “I’ve got you, baby! Don’t you worry about anything. I personally guarantee all your elves and Santa’s helpers will get everything on your list done before the chubby guy falls down that chimney!”

  “Nicholas, are you hungry? There’s a ton of food,” Marah said, shifting the conversation.

  “I could eat.”

  “He never stops eating,” Nathaniel added. “We probably should have warned you!”

  Marah laughed. “Naomi did,” she said, referring to their older sister.

  A hurricane of noise and limbs suddenly burst through the space, a cavalcade of youngsters racing past the adults. They ranged in age from three to almost twelve and sounded like a hurricane in the making.

  “Gabrielle! Irene! Stop running!” Marah admonished. “And I mean it! You two are keeping all your cousins stirred up! Santa’s not coming if you two don’t get it together! How many times do I have to tell you both to set the example for the younger kids?”

  Both little girls suddenly came to an abrupt halt, the others falling in line behind them. They eyed Nicholas warily. The younger of the two, Gabrielle Stallion shifted her gaze from his face to the bright white running shoes he wore on his feet. Her eyes moved from him to Nathaniel, shifting as she took in their identical features. She pointed an index finger. “You two are twins!”

  The adults laughed.

  “That’s right,” Nathaniel said. “This is my twin brother.”

  “Gabi, you don’t remember your cousin Nicholas?” John asked, his gaze on his daughter’s face.

  Gabi shrugged, the gesture dismissive.

  “Did you bring presents? Everyone else brought presents,” Irene Stallion questioned, her small hands resting on her lean hips.

  Nicholas laughed. “I did bring presents. They’re still in my car. Are you going to help me carry them in?”

  Irene narrowed her gaze on the man’s face. “I’ll go get Collin. He does things like that,” she said with a shrug.

  Gabi echoed the sentiment. “Collin does ’dem things. He’s a big boy,” she said.

  “Girls can do boy things, too,” Irene said matter-of-factly.

  Two of the older boys looked from the girls to the adults. One small voice suddenly spoke up. “Uncle John, are we still going outside to play kick ball?”

  John turned his gaze to eye the nine-year-old and ten-year-old staring at him. “We’re ready when you are, Jake. But I thought you and Lorenzo were having fun playing with the girls?”

  The youngster named Lorenzo gave them all an exaggerated eye roll. “Irene and Gabi are too bossy,” he said emphatically.

  “Am not!” Gabi snarled.

  Irene snapped her head in the young boy’s direction, her eyes narrowing into thin slits. “Humph!” she grunted.

  Lorenzo’s eyes widened, and he took a step backward, bumping into his cousin Jake.

  “I’m playing, too, and I’m going to be the pitcher,” Irene said as she turned on the toes of her cowboy boots. She then tossed her ponytail over her shoulder and moved toward the back of the house.

  Gabi gave the boys a take that look as she skipped after her older cousin. The line of noise followed behind the two, the wealth of it rushing toward the other side of the home.

  John called after them, “Gabi! Your mother said to stop running!”

  Marah tossed up her hands. “You guys know your way to the kitchen. I need to corral the toddler brigade back upstairs to the playroom.”

  “I’m still trying to figure out how they all got out!” John exclaimed, his own head shaking.

  He and Marah exchanged a look both answering at the same time. “Frick and Frack!” they exclaimed, referring to Gabi and Irene.

  Nicholas laughed. “And how old are the girls now?” he asked.

  “Gabi is eight and Irene just turned eleven.” Marah answered.

  “Eleven going on thirty,” Mark Stallion, John’s brother, suddenly interjected, hearing his daughter’s name. “It’s good to see you, cousin,” he said as he moved to Nicholas’s side to shake his hand.

  Marah gave her husband a quick nod. “John Stallion, you have only two hours until all the children need to be in bed. Please tire them out before we all go crazy!” she admonished as she rushed in the direction of the noise, an argument ensuing in the other room between the younger kids.

  John laughed. “You are just in time, Nicholas. How are you at running the bases?”

  “I’ve never had any problems before,” Nicholas answered, chuckling deeply.

  The others all laughed with him.

  “Well, Mark’s daughter is one tough cookie,” John interjected. “And she throws a mean ball. You may have just met your match.”

  * * *

  The men from the Stallion and Boudreaux families and their children were divided into two teams. John was captain of one, and Nicholas had volunteered to lead the other. The women watched from the rear patio as the men and children played kick ball in the makeshift field.

  Irene’s mother and Mark’s wife, Michelle “Mitch” Stallion, shook her head. She and Marah exchanged a look, their two daughters bickering at each other in the outfield. Despite admonishments from both their fathers, neither little girl was interested in playing nice.

  “She’s trying to break me,” Marah said. “Gabi has made it her mission to try my last nerve and break me down.”

  Marah’s twin sister, Marla, laughed. “It was that parent curse. Daddy had wished that you’d have a daughter just like yourself, and voilà!”

  Marah cut an eye in her twin sister’s direction. “I was never that bad!”

  “You really were that bad,” their older sister Eden said.

  Katherine Boudreaux chuckled. “We all have one that challenges us. Thankfully they grow out of it,” she said.

  “Which one of us was yours, Mama?” Maitlyn Boudreaux-Sayed asked, shifting her newborn son against her shoulder.

  Her sister, Katrina Boudreaux Stallion, echoed the question. “Yeah, Mama? Which one?”

  Their mother tossed them both a look. “Do you two really have to ask?”

  A warm voice echoed from inside the patio door. “I’ll take that as a compliment!” Tarah Boudreaux exclaimed as she rushed out to hug her family.

  “Tarah!” The women called out excitedly, everyone rising to embrace her.

  “You finally made it,” her sister Katrina said, moving to give her a hug. “Why didn’t you call? Someone could have picked you up.”

  Tarah shrugged. “Someone did. There was a car service waiting for me when I landed.”

  The women all looked at each other. Maitlyn, who was usually their go-to girl for anything that needed to be done, said, “It wasn’t me this time!”

  “Well, I don’t care who did it. I’m just glad they did,” Tarah said. Reaching for Maitlyn’s baby, Tarah pulled the infant into her arms. It was her first time seeing her new nephew in person. “Maitlyn, he’s beautiful!” she exclaimed, kissing the little boy’s cherub cheeks. “And he’s so chubby!” She looked around for the infant’s older sister. “Where’s Rose-Lynne?” she asked. The little girl was nowhere in sight.

  Maitlyn dropped back into her seat. “Upstairs in the playroom with the nanny!” She blew out a sigh. “I love coming here. I can actually take a break! Zayn isn’t an easy baby like his sister was.”

  “Ain’t that the truth,” Tierra Stallion exclaimed. Tarah imagined she was
thinking about her own children, Lorenzo and his little sister Tianna. Visiting the ranch had to have been a welcome reprieve for her and her husband Travis. The distraction of cousins for their children to play with and the added care from family and trusted staff were just the beginning of the many perks afforded to them.

  “I don’t know about all that,” Phaedra Stallion-Boudreaux offered. She rubbed a small hand against the beginnings of a baby bump. “Every time I take a break here, Mason and I get pregnant.” It was her third pregnancy in as many years. Her two sons and the daughter they hoped for had begun to look like stair steps.

  “I think it must be something in the water,” Phaedra’s sister-in-law, Dahlia Boudreaux, echoed as she waddled to her seat. It was her third pregnancy as well, the second set of twins coming to her and her husband Guy.

  Katrina Stallion laughed. “At least every time you visit and get pregnant, you go home and win another film award! So there are perks!” she said as she gave Dahlia a high five.

  “It’s the water!” all the women exclaimed, their laughter abundant.

  Katherine laughed with them. “Girls, it sounds like your problem is that you’re having too good of a time during those breaks! And that don’t have anything at all to do with water unless y’all are doing it in that swimming pool!”

  The women all laughed again.

  Tarah passed her nephew back to his mother. “So what good family gossip have I missed?” she asked, her eyes briefly shifting out to the activity on the game field.

  Marah laughed. “Where do you want us to start?”

  Tarah’s gaze suddenly came to an abrupt halt. “Please start by telling me that tall and good-looking man out there is a family friend and not related to me by blood.” Rising from her seat, she walked to the edge of the patio, and all the women turned to where she stared.

  Her mother laughed, the matriarch shaking her head. “He’s related to you. I’m sure of it.”

  Tarah’s sister Maitlyn giggled. “Not really, and definitely not by blood. That’s Nicholas Stallion. He’s one of the Utah cousins. He’s Nathaniel’s twin brother. Nathaniel is a doctor, too.”

  Tarah grinned. “That makes him a Boudreaux family friend,” she said as she bit down on her bottom lip.

  Out on the field, Nicholas stood with Irene, whispering something in the little girl’s ear. Her smile was canyon-wide as she nodded her head at whatever he was saying. Tarah found herself surprised that he’d caught her attention. His athletic build and cocky swagger were the opposite of what she was usually attracted to. But the man was tall and buff, his build a strong, solid mass of rock-hard muscle. He moved with a hint of arrogance in his step. He was a beautiful specimen of male prowess, and Tarah imagined that there wasn’t a woman who wouldn’t be impressed.

  “So, what does the twin who’s not a doctor do?” she asked, turning her attention away from the man for a moment.

  “You mean you really don’t recognize him?” one of the women asked.

  Tarah shook her head.

  “That will just burst his bubble,” someone else interjected.

  Marah laughed. “Nicholas is a professional football player. He’s the quarterback for the Los Angeles Marauders.”

  “The star quarterback!” one of the other women gushed.

  Tarah laughed. “His feelings are really going to be hurt, then, because I hate football!”

  Across the way, Nathaniel’s eyes suddenly shifted in her direction. His gaze widened with interest, his mouth dropping open slightly. Distracted, he missed the ball tossed his way, the rubber sphere rolling toward the outfield, the little girls racing after it. The gesture was abrupt, and obvious, as everyone turned to stare where he stared. And then he suddenly dropped to his knees, Irene slamming the rubber ball harshly into his midsection.

  * * *

  The Stallions and the Boudreaux were a family of beautiful people, kindhearted, generous and loyal to a fault. Their list of personal accomplishments was lengthy. Between them all, they’d amassed enough wealth to run a large country, but they were humble and grounded in their love for God and each other. Whenever they came together, laughter was abundant, tears were joyous and the memories were rich. This time was no different.

  Nicholas stood toward the back of the oversize family room, his hands folded together behind his back. Looking about the space, he was enamored with the energy that overflowed throughout the home and the abundance of love that embraced them. It felt like a cashmere sweater wrapped tightly around his shoulders. He was in awe of how life had changed for them all since they’d found each other.

  The family stood together as Reverend Milo Bernard, the pastor of John and Marah’s church, blessed them. The reverend anointed the holiday season with prayers for continued prosperity and health, giving benedictions to send them into the new year. With the last gesture of thanksgiving, Marah announced that it was bedtime for everyone under the age of twenty-one. But it was only when Senior Boudreaux raised his voice that each of the kids went racing to their beds to wait for the arrival of Santa Claus. With a collective sigh, the adults all dropped into the moment, savoring the first ounce of quiet since the day had begun.

  As Nicholas’s gaze skated around the room, he suddenly locked eyes with Tarah, catching the young woman staring at him intently. They had officially met over dinner and then the teasing had begun, both families poking fun at the two of them. It was even more humorous when little Irene, not at all amused, declared him her boyfriend and Tarah her sworn enemy. In cahoots with her best buddy, Gabi, the girls had made it their mission to keep the two of them apart. Everyone had found it amusing, and even he’d laughed it off. But there was something about the beautiful woman that had him feeling giddy and completely intrigued.

  Tarah Boudreaux’s youthful exuberance was a welcome change from the women he usually encountered. Most of the females who sought out his attention wore an air of desperation like a beloved perfume. But there was nothing desperate about Tarah. In fact, she’d been aloof and dismissive, barely batting an eyelash’s worth of attention in his direction.

  Across the room, she was now giving him a look that had him twisting nervously in his seat, and he found himself grinning foolishly. She rose from her own chair and moved to his side, dropping down on the settee where he rested.

  He took in a swift breath of air, filling his lungs to calm the nerves that had risen unexpectedly. “Dr. Boudreaux!”

  “Mr. Stallion. Are you enjoying your Christmas Eve?”

  “I am. How about you?”

  “I forgot just how much I miss being around family over the holidays.”

  “When was your last time here?”

  Tarah pondered the question for a quick minute. “Thanksgiving, last year. I think. It’s been a good long while, but my schedule isn’t the most accommodating.”

  “My brother says you’re a surgeon? Is that right?”

  She nodded. “My specialty is neurosurgery. It’s usually a seven-year residency, and I have one more year and a half to go. I’ll be doing a fellowship my last year in trauma and neurocritical care.”

  “That sounds...serious! You have to use a lot of big words in your profession, don’t you?”

  She laughed. “It’s a lot of work, but it’s well worth it.”

  “So, how can you hate football?” he asked, addressing one of her comments that had his cousins teasing him earlier.

  Tarah shrugged, a smirk crossing her face. “Don’t take it personally. I hate basketball and soccer, too. I do like tennis, though.”

  Nicholas laughed. “I hope you know that doesn’t redeem you.”

  She gave him another smug glance, her eyes rolling. “Do I look like a woman who’s worried about redemption?

  Nicholas met the look she was giving him, his own eyes widening ever so slightly. Tarah Bou
dreaux was extraordinarily beautiful. Everything about her reminded him of summer sunshine, the blue water of a tropical paradise and ice cream—rum raisin with chocolate, to be specific. Light danced across her face, and her warm honey complexion shimmered as if she’d been dipped in flecks of gold. Her mouth had the sweetest hint of a pout to it, and when she smiled, her lips were intoxicating.

  He chuckled again, the gut-deep rumble warm and endearing. “Honestly? You look like a woman I should probably be fearful of.”

  She laughed, rose from her seat and turned toward the kitchen and the throng of women who’d headed in that direction to get a jump on the holiday meal. She stopped abruptly, tossing him a look over her shoulder. “You need to be afraid, Mr. Stallion! Be very, very afraid!”

  Chapter 2

  “Nicholas is my boyfriend!” Irene said emphatically, a hand on her hip. She held a brand-new basketball beneath her other arm as she tapped a high-top Converse against the hardwood floor.

  Gabi nodded her head in agreement, her arms folded across her chest.

  Michelle shook her head as Mark responded to their daughter’s comment. “You can’t have a boyfriend until you’re fifty.”

  “Yes, I can! Can’t I, Mommy?”

  Mark eyed his daughter with a narrowed gaze before tossing her mother a look. “I can’t handle this,” he said, his stare shifting briefly in Nicholas’s direction. He looked back at his wife as he pointed a finger. “Do something before I lock her away until she turns forty!”

  Nicholas laughed, holding up both hands as if he were surrendering. Tarah sat across the table from him unable to contain her own giggles. Irene glared at her, which made the moment even funnier.

  Everyone in the room erupted in a wealth of laughter.

  “I would have to hurt someone!” Zakaria Sayed said, his daughter sitting in his lap. “They start way too young!”