The Ranch She Left Behind. Kathleen O'Brien
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the page trying to capture was something less easily defined. Something in the curve of his neck, or maybe it was the elegant slide of light across his cheek, twinkling like a hint of magic in those tiny, unshaven shadows.
She bit her lower lip, frustrated. The pen wasnât subtle enough; she needed charcoals, or watercolor. Or was watercolor too insipid? Pen and ink, maybe, would find the tightrope balance between sweetness and strength.
Suddenly, the sweetness took the upper hand. Oh, he was smiling, and that changed everything! A hint of rascal in the slight overbite, but a rush of kindness and harmony in the open lips, a torrent of sensuality in the wide expanse of...
Her pen froze. He wasnât just smiling. He was smiling at her.
He was watching her watch him.
Which, she realized as she stared at her pad, she must have been doing for quite a while. The drawing was taking shape, filling in with detail. It wouldnât be mistaken for anyone or anything but him.
Her cheeks burned as she realized his daughter was watching her, too. How long had she been in her trance, drawing while the rest of the world disappeared? Father and daughter had already ordered, and the little girl was even now sucking absently on the straw of an ice-cream float while she stared at Penny.
Nervously, Penny set down the pad and pulled the top pages over to cover her sketch. She tried to make the movement look natural, but she knew it was hopeless.
âWhy were you drawing my dad?â The girl frowned, pointing her float toward the notebook, as if to prevent Penny from denying it.
âEllen. Donât be rude,â the man said, still smiling. He reached out to pull back his daughterâs outthrust glass, but she made a petulant sound and lurched clear of him in one willful, rebellious motion.
Her fatherâs grip had obviously been gentle, so the force was twice what she needed to break free. The results were disastrous. Ice cream and root beer and whipped cream flew everywhere.
Everywhere. Across the girlâs hand, onto the floor, onto her shoesâand even onto her dadâs crisp white shirt and golden suede jacket.
Her cheeks flamed red. âNow look what you did,â the girl said, obviously covering her embarrassment with aggression.
Oh, no, donât make him look a foolâespecially not with strangers to witness the disrespect! Pennyâs chest tightened, and her stomach did a dizzy swooping thing. She didnât dare look at the father. Though the girl was bratty, Pennyâs heart ached for her, and she wished she could prevent what must be coming.
But several seconds passed, and she heard nothing. No yelling, no curses, not even a cold, scathing reprimand. Penny glanced up. To her surprise the child was disappearing into the ladiesâ room, and the father calmly tugged napkins out of the dispenser.
âAh, man, Iâm sorry,â Danny said, running a dishrag under some water. âIâll make her another one. No charge.â
Yeah, right. Penny tightened again, thinking how unlikely it was that the father would reward such rudeness with a second chance at ice cream.
âDonât be silly,â the man said in a pleasant tone, surprising Penny so completely she felt her lower jaw sag. âOf course weâll pay for it. But make it a double, okay? And what the heck. Iâll have one, too.â
And just like that, Pennyâs tension drained away, as if someone had pulled the stopper out. She felt a wave of irrational happiness wash in after it. The happiness was irrational because logically, just one nice man, one patient fatherâthat didnât change anything, not for her. She had grown up with a terrifying father, and she still had the emotional scars to prove it.
This man was no one to herâshe didnât even know his name. But he was...well, right now he felt like hope personified. He was the rainbow after the storm, the unicorn emerging from the forest, the olive branch that proved land still existed, land that an exhausted sailor might someday reach.
Right now, she absolutely loved this beautiful, beautiful man.
Impulsively, she stood. Heâd run out of napkins, and he still had whipped cream flecked across his neck and under his chin. He probably didnât even realize it. She extracted a dozen napkins from the dispenser on her table and moved toward him.
Danny was absorbed in making the new floats.
âHere,â she said as she reached the counter. âLet me help with that. Youâve still got a spot, hereââ She stood on tiptoe. He was tall. âAnd here.â
She leaned in.
Number Ten. Kiss a total stranger.
This was perfect. Not an artificial check mark on an arbitrary list. She wanted to kiss him. For daughters everywhere, including the angry kid in the bathroom, and the terrified little girl she herself once had been, Penny wanted to give him a heartfelt thank-you kiss.
On the cheek, of course. She shut her eyes. Her lips tingled, anticipating the soft bristles of his stubble. He smelled sweet, as if heâd been traveling in a perfume-filled car. But not a grown womanâs perfume. A pink-cotton-candy perfumeâthe kind a ten-year-old would wear.
Cotton candy and honey bristles... Something fluttered in her belly. How could such a combination be sensual?
But as she moved in, he must have shifted his face toward her, because her impetuous kiss landed not on soft bristles, but on the warm, ridged flesh of his lips.
She inhaled sharply, opening her eyesâand found herself staring into the deep pools of his. She had connected with the edge of his mouth, not the center, where the sharply drawn bow formed. But still...she felt the warmth of the stiff rim around the velvet flesh. She felt the minty heat of his surprised breath.
For a minute, she couldnât pull away.
He didnât, either. For a second, a few secondsâit was hard to tell, because time seemed as sticky and easily stretched as the caramel on her sundaeâthey stood there, joined by shocked eyes and warm, half-open mouths.
He made a low sound, a primitive sound that could be identified in any country, on any planet, as pleasure. But he didnât dive in, snatching the opportunity lewdly, as some men might have done. Instead, he slowly, almost imperceptibly, tilted his head to the right...then delicately drew it back again to the left.
The subtle movement caused his lips to brush hers with an excruciating tingle. All through her body, nerve endings reacted, as if heâd put a match to her mouth. Her cheeks flamed. Her chest radiated heat like a sunburst. Her heart couldnât remember exactly what to do, and thumped around in her chest, confused.
Surely the whole thing didnât last more than two or three seconds. Danny hadnât even finished churning ice cream into the floats. Two or three seconds, and thenâit might have been prearrangedâthey both pulled back at the same moment. She had to work hard to steady her breathing, as if sheâd been jogging, and she felt the strangest urge to adjust her untouched clothes and smooth her unruffled hair.
In contrast, he looked surprised but utterly calm. His caramel eyes were smiling. The outside corners tilted up, managing to look quizzical and delighted at the same time.
âIâm not sure what I did to deserve that,â he said in low, pleasant tones. âBut I hope youâll tell me...so that I can do it again.â
âIt isnât what you did,â she said awkwardly, backing up a step. âItâs what you didnât do.â
âWhat I didnât do?â
She tried to laugh, tried to match his composure, though she suddenly felt utterly ridiculous. Heâd never understand. He probably had no idea what some fathers were capable of doing