A Stallion's Touch. Deborah Fletcher Mello
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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 Boudreaux 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!”
“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,”