Sweet Stallion Read online

  “You should have countered. You should have bid two million dollars. There’s no way she could have beaten that.”

  “You don’t know that. And what if she had? How high were you willing to go?”

  “As high as I needed to,” Garrison snapped.

  “So, you would have been willing to watch your profit margin on this project dwindle away just to say you won? Your father would have had a field day with that.”

  Garrison shrugged as he dropped onto the chair in front of the glass-topped desk. “What was his problem, anyway? He never said a word the whole way home. That’s definitely unlike him.”

  This time Patrick shrugged. “You would know better than I would. He’s your father, not mine.”

  Garrison shifted the conversation. “So, what’s up with you and that Stallion woman? Why were you talking to her?”

  Patrick’s shifted in his seat. For a brief second, he thought about telling a little white lie, then didn’t. “I asked her out to dinner. I’d like to get to know her.”

  “So now you’re fraternizing with the enemy?”

  Patrick chuckled. “Why does she have to be the enemy?”

  “Because she beat me, that’s why!”

  He shook his head. “She’s a beautiful woman and I’m interested.”

  “What about my sister? I thought you two were going to try to make things work.”

  Patrick glanced toward the ceiling with an exaggerated eye roll. Garrison had two sisters, Giselle and Georgina. For two years, he and Giselle had been an item, but Patrick had known early on that they had very different life goals. Like her brother, Giselle was selfish, and she could be very mean-spirited when it suited her needs. He couldn’t imagine spending a lifetime with her. They’d ended things amicably, but he knew she held out hope that one day, maybe, he would change his mind and choose her.

  “Isn’t Giselle dating some tennis pro?”

  “She’s dating, but you know Giselle. She gets bored easily.”

  “Sounds like someone else I know. How are things with you and Barbie, Bridget, Brenda... What’s her name?”

  Garrison smirked. “Bridgette! She’s a supermodel, you know. She’s done Sports Illustrated twice.”

  “So how are things with you and Bridgette?”

  “Things are good. She doesn’t annoy me, so it works.”

  “Well, I’m glad for you. Which is why I’m taking Ms. Stallion to dinner. Giselle annoys the hell out me!”

  His friend laughed. “Yeah, I can see that.” He stood up, heading in the direction of the door. “Let me know how that works out for you. Maybe you can convince her to sell me that land for a profit. For a very small profit, of course.”

  Patrick shook his head as Garrison made his exit. He didn’t bother to respond.

  * * *

  “It’s not a date,” Naomi said into the phone receiver, pulling her legs beneath her as she settled on the bed. “Okay, maybe it is a date. But it’s not serious.”

  Natalie laughed on the other end. “You are so funny! When’s the last time a man took you to dinner?”

  Naomi laughed with her sister. “How old are you?”

  Natalie’s amusement billowed over the phone line. “Noah told us you start blushing and get all tongue-tied when he’s around. I think that’s pretty serious.”

  “Noah likes to exaggerate. To be honest with you, I don’t even know why I told that man I’d go out with him. I’m thinking about canceling.”

  “You like him, that’s why. And, no, you will not cancel. You need to go have some fun.”

  “Still, wasn’t it our mother who said all men are dogs and not worth the effort?”

  “Our mother also said life is about living your dreams,” Natalie said softly, quoting the words they’d heard Norris Jean say repeatedly while they were growing up.

  “Live the ride!” both women chorused, remembering the quote their mother had cut from a magazine once. Life is not meant to be lived such that we cross over well groomed and attractive, but rather that we slide in sideways, champagne in one hand, strawberries in the other, clothes in tatters, our bodies completely worn and totally spent, shouting, “WOO-HOO! What a ride!” It was what Norris Jean had wanted for all her children. For them to live their lives with complete abandon.

  Naomi nodded into the receiver. “Well, it’s really not all that serious. We’ll probably never see each other again after.”

  Natalie laughed. “Keep saying it and you might actually believe it.”

  “Why did you call me?”

  “How are you doing after running into our father? Noah said that wasn’t good.”

  “It wasn’t anything. He spoke, we didn’t. We left.”

  “I wish I’d been there. I want to know why he abandoned us the way he did. I would have asked him.”

  “I got the distinct impression that he doesn’t see it that way. He asked me if I knew who he was, like he was the Pied Piper and I should have been in awe of him.”

  “And you didn’t say anything to him?”

  “I asked him if he knew who I was, then Noah got between us and he and I left.”

  Naomi could picture her sister shaking her head. “Do you think you’ll see him again?” Natalie asked.

  Naomi paused, pondering the question. “I hope not,” she said softly, but there was something in her voice not quite convincing.

  Natalie allowed the moment to sweep between them, sensing a longing and a disappointment that she’d never heard from her sister before. She wasn’t sure how to deal with it so she changed the subject. “So, what are you wearing on your date?”

  * * *

  Patrick had called her twice, and twice Naomi hadn’t answered, though he’d left messages in her voice mail both times. He was starting to feel as if he was being snubbed and he didn’t like it. He didn’t like it one bit. The third time wasn’t going to be a charm for her or anyone. As he pulled his car onto the gravel drive of Norris Farms, he was determined to alter that, to change her mind and ease any doubt she might be having about going out with him.

  The property wasn’t at all what he’d anticipated. The driveway led to a picturesque farmhouse with a wide front porch and colorful awnings. Baskets of fruits and vegetables were available for sale, and there was a quiet bustling energy that seemed to vibrate through the early-evening air. As he stepped out of his car, a robust woman with jet-black, waist-long hair captured in two ponytails waved at him, her smile warm and inviting.

  “¡Hola, senor! If you are here to buy the vegetables, we’ll be closing in a few minutes!”

  Patrick smiled back. “Thank you. But I was looking for Naomi Stallion? Do you by chance know where I might find her?”

  The woman nodded eagerly and pointed toward the fields behind the house. “Senorita Naomi is there!” she said.

  Following where she indicated, Patrick soon found himself knee-deep in a field of strawberries. The succulent fruit was in varying degrees of ripeness, some bulging red and others varying shades of green. Their sweet aroma scented the air and he found himself smiling. Toward the back of the patch Naomi was bent at the waist, picking the reddest berries and depositing them in a small wooden basket. She wore denim jeans that were fitted through the hips and buttocks, with bell-bottom legs, and a peasant top edged in tan lace. Her dreadlocks were pulled back and captured beneath a slouchy, crocheted beanie. The view suddenly had him salivating, the round of her backside beckoning his attention. His eyes widened as he watched her, in awe at how quickly she was snapping the berries from their stems.

  She suddenly stood upright, turned and gasped, clearly startled by the sight of him. “Patrick!”

  “Naomi, hey! I was looking for you.” He smiled sheepishly.

  She clutched the basket of berries tightly betwee
n her hands. “I don’t... What are you...?” she stammered, obviously trying to make sense of the moment.

  “I would have phoned,” he said. “But since you aren’t taking my calls I figured I would just make the ride out here and try to catch up with you.”

  “Oh,” she said, her cheeks warming with color. “Sorry about that. I planned to call you back, but I’ve had a lot going on and...well...” Her eyes darted back and forth as he stared at her intently, amusement seeping from his stare. Naomi felt a wave of heat sweep rapidly through her core, and perspiration suddenly beaded in places moisture had no business being.

  She finally let out a loud sigh. “This isn’t going to work,” she said finally, turning back to the row of strawberries she’d been picking. “I’m sorry. I should have just told you that dinner wasn’t a good idea.”

  “Why not?” He moved in beside her, reaching to pick a few berries, which he dropped into the container she was holding.

  She quickly glanced at him, then away. He was staring at her again, and the look he was giving her felt like a torch intent on doing bodily harm...in a very good way. She drew a swift lungful of air and held it, trying to cool the swell of heat threatening to combust her from the inside out.

  He chuckled, still eyeing her as she pondered a response.

  “So, this is pretty impressive.”

  “This?”

  “Norris Farms. You’ve got quite an operation here.”

  “Thank you. It’s been a blessing, and with the new land, I can expand our operations and open a community food co-op. I’m very excited about that.”

  Patrick’s eyes widened as he dropped another handful of strawberries into her basket, moving along the row of vines with her. “A co-op? Really? Will it be open enrollment or private?”

  Naomi nodded. “Open. And there’s a definite need for one. I already have a lengthy list of prospective members. My farm in Arizona has been very successful and I hope to duplicate that here.”

  “You have a farm in Arizona, too?”

  Naomi snickered softly. “I do. I’m actually based in Arizona, running my first food co-op there.”

  “So, you don’t run this farm?”

  “I have a wonderful manager who handles the day-to-day operation. I fly in at least once a month, or as needed, to handle financial matters, some operational issues, and to ensure that things are running smoothly. I’ll probably be here more as we start readying the new acreage for planting.”

  “So where does all the produce you harvest go?”

  “The food produced here is locally sourced by several restaurants, some of the schools and a few grocery stores. We also donate a percentage to the shelters and food banks. The co-op will allow us to do even more to help the community.”

  Patrick grinned, noting the rising enthusiasm in her voice. Light shimmered in her eyes, and the more she talked about her business, the more excited she became. Her face was animated, gleaming with energy. Her hands fluttered between berry picking and storytelling, and she relaxed for the first time since they’d met. And so did he, feeling a level of comfort that he hadn’t experienced in a very long time.

  The woman at the front drew Naomi’s attention, waving her arms above her head from across the way. Naomi stole a quick glance at the watch on her wrist. “Oh, shucks! It’s past closing and I didn’t give Marcella her check!” she exclaimed. She pushed the basket into Patrick’s hands and headed in that direction. She tossed a look over her shoulder, calling out to him, “Grab my bag, please, and meet me at the house!”

  She didn’t bother to wait for a response, but sprinted across the field. Patrick found himself grinning broadly as he watched her, more intrigued than he’d ever imagined being. He grabbed the cloth sack that rested a few yards from where they’d been standing, and after slinging it over his shoulder, picked one last handful of ripe berries for the basket and followed her.

  When he stepped inside the farmhouse, the two were just finishing their business. The woman named Marcella gave him a bright smile as she relieved him of his basket of fruit and disappeared toward the back. Minutes later she returned, passing him a large sampling of the fruit and some vegetables in a grocery bag.

  “Thank you,” he said, then shifted his gaze in Naomi’s direction, his eyes questioning.

  She gave him a smile. “You earned it,” she said. “The beauty of a co-op is that you’ll be able to buy produce at a substantially reduced rate, or even work for it if you want to get your hands dirty. I hope you’ll consider becoming a member.”

  He reached into the bag, grabbed a berry and took a bite. “I don’t mind getting my hands dirty,” he said. “I’m going to look forward to it. Especially if you’re here.”

  Naomi felt herself blushing, and found herself shifting nervously as Marcella sauntered to her car, waving goodbye as the two of them stood watching. It was suddenly too quiet, with just soft strains of music coming from the sound system.

  “I owe you an apology,” Naomi said at last, turning to look him in the eye. “I should have called you back. That was rude of me, and my mother raised me better than that.”

  Patrick met the look she was giving him with one of his own. Something had shifted between them, with Naomi feeling more like a good friend than a casual acquaintance he’d just met. “I hope you’ll make it up to me by letting me take you to that dinner.”

  She smiled. “I’d like that. I’d like that a lot.”

  He peered down at his own watch. “I need to go shower and change,” he said, waving his berry-stained fingers. “I’ll pick you up at eight.”

  Naomi appeared stunned, a wave of surprise washing over her expression. “You mean tonight?”

  His mouth lifted. “I can’t risk you changing your mind.” He moved toward the door, then paused. “Shall I pick you up here or...?”

  “My brother’s,” she said with a warm laugh, impressed with his commanding spirit. “I’ll text you the address.”

  He reached for the phone in his back pocket, eyeing it and then her. When he didn’t make any motion to leave, Naomi laughed. She grabbed her own cell phone from the counter. Seconds later, Patrick’s phone chimed. With a wink, he turned, doing an inner happy dance as he headed to his car.

  * * *

  Naomi took in her reflection, standing at the full-length mirror as she assessed the dress she’d finally chosen to wear. It was a printed tunic with a hemline that fell to midthigh. It featured button detailing down the front, with a V-neck and slight ruffled collar. The sleeves were long, with billowy flared cuffs. The dress was a gift from her sister, a design from one of the many fashion shows Natalie had been featured in. Its bohemian flavor was everything Naomi. She’d paired it with thigh-high, burgundy suede boots designed by Natalie’s husband, the renowned Tinjin Braddy. It had just the right balance of casual and dressy. She’d coiled her dreadlocks around hair rods before stepping into the shower, and the steam had left the thick tresses with a beautiful curl pattern that cascaded past her shoulders. She’d used a lightly tinted moisturizer on her face, and completed the look with a hint of eyeliner and clear lip gloss. With a slight turn, left and then right, she nodded in approval.

  Her brother’s voice echoed from the doorway. “You look beautiful! Mr. O’Brien should be quite impressed.”

  Naomi turned to meet his warm smile. “Thank you. I still think this might be a mistake.”

  Noah shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. I had a ton of doubts the weekend of my high school reunion when Catherine and I reconnected. Look how that turned out! This just might be a blessing in disguise. Besides, you deserve a happily-ever-after.”

  “You’ve really gotten mushy in your old age,” she quipped, as she reached for the purse she’d tossed on the bed.

  Noah laughed. “They say love will do that to you. We’ll see what you’re lik
e in a few weeks.”

  Naomi rolled her eyes. “When are you leaving?”

  “I’m taking the red-eye back to New York tonight, so I won’t be here when you get home from your date. In case you want to invite your young man in for a nightcap...or something...” Noah laughed.

  “I am so done with you,” Naomi said, laughing with him. She pushed past her brother, punching him lightly in the chest as she did so.

  The two moved down the hallway to the family room, where they each took a seat. Nervous energy caused Naomi to twist in her chair as she looked from her watch to the oversize clock on the wall and back. The big-screen television was on in the background, an old episode of Law and Order flashing across the screen.

  When the doorbell rang, both Naomi and her brother jumped, the loud intonation surprising them. Noah grinned as he cut his eyes toward her. “So, are you ready?” he asked.

  She took a deep breath. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

  He got to his feet and headed for the front door. Naomi stood with him. “I can get it,” she said.

  “You can also make an entrance,” he quipped. “Guys actually like that. It’s dramatic and special.”

  “Says the man who dated only his wife and one other woman in his whole life.”

  Noah laughed. “You say that like I don’t have any experience,” he countered, as the doorbell rang a second time.

  Naomi giggled. “I think you forget who dressed you for both those dates.”

  He shook his index finger at her, then turned toward the foyer. Naomi twisted her hands together nervously when she heard Patrick’s voice ring out in greeting. And then she heard a second voice that surprised her. Her brother was laughing, which didn’t help to quell her anxiety. Seconds later, three men came through the entrance, Noah leading Patrick and a stranger.

  “Naomi, both of these men claim they’re your date for tonight,” Noah said, his tone tinged with laughter.

  Patrick and the other guy tossed each other a look. The man checked his watch. “I was told to be here at eight.”