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Nick gave her an amused glance as he reached beneath the wagon seat and withdrew a hefty mug. He handed it to her and then reached for a thermos. “Addy is an excellent cook. We’d be fools to turn down the offer for dinner.”
Deidre laughed as Nick wedged the thermos between his thighs and unscrewed it. “Well, I’m no fool. It sounds wonderful,” she told Evan. Evan nodded and gave them a wave before he returned to the stables.
“How in the world did you find out about this place?” she asked as the delicious aroma of sweet chocolate wafted up to her nose.
He shrugged slightly and poured some of the steaming liquid into her cup. “I didn’t think it’d hurt to ask around about local stables since I was planning to be in Harbor Town for a while.”
“And you couldn’t imagine being anywhere without being able to ride for a period of time, could you?” she said, understanding hitting her. He’d ridden every day when he’d been at The Pines. She took a sip of the hot chocolate.
“Oh, yum.”
“Wait till you try this,” he said, replacing the thermos. He poked his hand under the seat and withdrew a baking tin from beneath the seat. She took it and opened the lid.
“Ooh,” she murmured, ginning as she picked up a perfect, delectable-looking iced Christmas tree cookie from the tin.
“They’re really good. I had a couple this morning when I came out to arrange the carriage rental.”
Deidre bit into the cookie. It melted on her tongue, tasting like fresh butter, sugar and Christmastime itself. She grinned happily and met his stare. “These are why you tasted so sweet,” she murmured as she chewed the cookie, referring to their earlier kiss.
He swept down and covered her mouth with his, pausing to slide his tongue along the seam of her lips. She went completely still next to him. He lifted his head. His gray eyes smoldered.
“Just wanted to experience the same thing you did. You’re right. Sweet,” he said, a grin ghosting his lips.
It took several heartbeats before she remembered to breathe.
He retrieved several folded blankets from beneath the s
eat, tucking them beneath her with brisk, mechanical precision. His hand moving over her hips and thighs felt the opposite of mundane to Deidre, however. Maybe he wasn’t as matter-of-fact as she’d thought, however, because his fingers lingered over the outer curve of her rear end. He looked up into her face, and Deidre felt that increasingly familiar swooping sensation in her belly.
She became entranced by the black specks in the iris of his eyes. They both blinked and glanced at the front of the sleigh when Maybelle snorted impatiently.
He released the brake and gave the reins an almost imperceptible twitch. Maybelle responded immediately, swinging the wagon in the turnabout. Deidre felt warm and content beneath the blankets, her steaming hot chocolate clutched in her gloved hand, Nick’s solid frame pressing against her side.
The paths that led through the McGraws’ wooded property were picturesque on the snowy winter’s day. Eventually, Nick directed Maybelle onto the old lakefront road. The road wasn’t used much anymore by vehicles, but it was maintained by the town for summer biking and Rollerblade use. Several inches of fresh snow lay on it, but Maybelle seemed to have no difficulty maneuvering through it, her trotting hooves tossing up snow with jaunty ease.
Nick and she conversed together comfortably, Deidre occasionally pointing out landmarks at the outskirts of town and asking Nick questions about horses.
“I’ll teach you how to ride, if you like,” he said as they rattled along and the bells attached to the garland jingled merrily.
“I don’t know. I’d probably make a fool of myself.”
“You won’t,” he said, so confidently she glanced at him in amazement. He gave her a sidelong glance. “You’re an athlete, aren’t you? And I’ve seen how horses respond to you. Remember when I came upon you when we were at The Pines stables and you were talking to that stallion? Horses are in your blood.”
Deidre kept her gaze on Maybelle’s gleaming hindquarters. For a second, her heart had jumped at his words. Was he starting to believe she was Lincoln DuBois’s daughter? With a sinking feeling, she realized a moment later he might have just been referring to her mother’s skills as a horsewoman. She’d discovered from Lincoln that Brigit had been a junior championship jumper as a teenager. Brigit had never once mentioned being an accomplished equestrian the entire time Deidre was growing up.
Nick and she were having such a wonderful time, she didn’t want to ruin it by asking him to clarify what he’d meant by horses being “in her blood.”
She shivered minutes later when a breeze whipped past them and snow flurries batted against her exposed skin. Nick slid his arm behind her back and pulled her against his side, still holding the reins with his left hand. She cuddled against him, her cheek pressed against his jacket, mesmerized by the sound of Maybelle’s trotting hooves and the feeling of Nick next to her. The lake stretched next to them like a swath of ruffled steel-blue fabric. Her nose felt cold, but her belly was warm from the hot chocolate. She couldn’t recall ever feeling such a strange combination of contentment and anticipation in her life.
They paused a while later when they came to the terminus of the road. Deidre pointed out the enormous sand dunes lining the lake in the distance.
“Have you ever dune dived?” she asked Nick.
He grimaced. “At the risk of knocking myself down a few notches in your estimation, I’ll admit I’m not much of a swimmer or diver.”
She gave him an assessing glance. “You’re an athlete. I could teach you,” she teased, repeating what he’d told her about horseback riding.
He laughed under his breath. “I doubt it. Teaching a cowboy how to swim is like teaching a fish to walk.” His gaze narrowed on the massive, tall dunes. “Don’t tell me you actually dived into Lake Michigan from those things.”
