home and took a quick shower. The entire time, she kept thinking about Orlando Mendoza. She’d wished she could do more for him, but it was a miracle he’d survived the crash. She checked in on Piper and her mother and answered Mama Jeanne’s twenty questions about the accident. Unfortunately, Stacey wasn’t sure how everything would turn out for Orlando. This was one more reason Stacey wished there was an emergency facility closer to Horseback Hollow. Her hair still wet, she put it on top of her head and headed out the door to go to the Fosters’ house.
After driving the few minutes to the Fosters, Stacey raced to the porch and knocked on the front door. “I’m sorry I’m late,” she said when Colton answered the door. “Did you hear about the accident at the flight school?”
He shook his head. “I just got in from the field. What happened?”
“One of the planes from the flight school went down and the pilot was injured. Orlando Mendoza. The paramedics were taking a while to get there, so Sawyer asked me to come and do what I could to stabilize him.”
“Oh, man,” Colton said. “You think he’ll make it?”
“I don’t know. He was unconscious most of the time and he had a badly broken arm and leg,” she said, her mind flashing back to a visual of the man.
“Hmm,” Colton said. “Listen, you look pretty upset. We don’t have to do this cooking lesson.”
She shook her head. “I can’t do anything now for him except pray. I could really use a distraction.”
Colton gave a slow nod. “Okay,” he said with a lopsided grin. “If teaching me how to fix Stacey’s spaghetti will distract you, then that’s what we’ll do.”
“Fine,” she said and headed for the kitchen. “Let’s start with chopping that onion. Some key things you need to know about making spaghetti are that you shouldn’t overcook the noodles and you should break up the meat before you put it in the pan. But don’t overwork it,” she instructed.
“I’m taking mental notes,” he said.
“You won’t just be taking mental notes,” she said. “You’ll be doing the work. You remember what you do more than you remember what someone says.”
“That sounds like something my father would say,” he said.
“It’s actually something my father once said,” she said, and met his gaze. “It must be a conspiracy.”
He chuckled. “You must be right.”
“Wash your hands,” she said.
“Yes, Mama,” he said.
She shot him a disapproving look.
“Whoa,” he said, lifting his hand in mock self-protection. “You’ve got lasers shooting from your eyes.”
“One of my superpowers. Let’s get to work,” she said. She noticed that Colton possessed a much better sense of humor than Joe had. Not that she was comparing.
Stacey felt overly aware of Colton’s physical presence in the kitchen as they prepared the meal. His shoulders grazed hers. Her hip slid against his. She put her hand over his to show him how to chop the onion. She couldn’t help noticing his hands. They were large, but there was nothing awkward about the way he used them. For an instant, she couldn’t help thinking about how his hands would feel on her body. The image heated her from the inside out.
Stacey tried to ignore her feelings. She helped Colton drain the pasta, and he was just way too close. Way too strong. And she was way too curious. She looked directly into his brown eyes and glimpsed a spark that mirrored hers.
She could have, should have looked away, but she didn’t.
His nostrils flared slightly, and she couldn’t tell if he was having the same problem with curiosity and self-restraint that she was. “This looks good,” he said.
“It should be,” she said, and turned away to stir the sauce. “It’s best to cook this a longer time, but thirty minutes will do if you’re in a rush.” She lifted a spoonful of sauce and blew on it for a few seconds. She took a tiny taste. “Yum.”
She offered him a sample from the same spoon. Colton covered her hand with his to steady the spoon and took a taste. He nodded. “That’s good. Hard to believe I fixed it,” he said with a half grin.
“Yes, it is,” she said, and threw back her head in a laugh. “I’m surprised at how well you do in the kitchen.”
“You never knew a lot of things about me,” he said.
Her stomach took a dip to her knees, and her sense of humor suddenly vanished. “That’s very true. Maybe you could say the same about what you know about me.”
“Maybe I could,” he admitted and stepped closer to her.
In theory, Stacey could have turned away. In reality, she probably should have. But she was just too curious and too, well, warm. She wanted to feel Colton Foster’s chest against hers. She wanted to feel his arms around her. She wanted to feel his lips on hers.
Stacey gave in to all her bad urges and flung herself into Colton’s arms. His hard chest against her breasts felt so much better than she’d expected. His arms around her gave her a melting sensation. And his kiss made her want so much more. How could his mouth be both firm and sensual? How could such a little taste of him send her into a frenzy?
She opened her mouth, and he took her with a kiss that sent her upside down. She couldn’t resist the urge to wiggle against him. Colton gave a low groan that made her burn. She felt his hand travel to the small of her back to pull her even closer. She was breathtakingly aware of his hard body from his chest all the way down to his thighs.
Oh, yes, she thought. More, give me more.
The force of her need bowled her over. Panic raced through her. This was Colton, and she was getting ready to make a fool of herself.
Stacey pulled back, knowing her face was flaming red. She was embarrassed all the way down to her toes. “Oops. I should go. I really should go,” she managed and refused to meet Colton’s gaze. She wondered how she would survive this, but couldn’t focus on that. She grabbed her coat and ran out the door.
Stacey drove home with her window down so she could cool off. Despite that, when she walked in the door she still felt as if she were on fire. Fanning her face, she pulled off her coat and threw it on a hanger.
She gnawed the inside of her lip as she walked toward the kitchen. She needed a very, very cold glass of water. She just wasn’t sure if she was going to drink it or pour it over her head.
“Stacey?” her mother called from the den. “Is that you?”
She took a deep breath and tried to compose herself. She walked to the doorway of the den. “It’s me. How was Piper?”
“No trouble at all,” her mother said. Her father was sitting next to her, dozing on the sofa. “She fell asleep like that,” her mother said, snapping her fingers and smiling.
“I’m glad to hear that. Thank you again for looking after her,” Stacey said.
“You know I will look after her anytime,” her mother said.
“Yes, but I don’t want to take advantage of you,” Stacey said.
“It’s not taking advantage,” her mother insisted. “It’s my pleasure. Besides, I know you would never take advantage of me. Enough about that.” She waved her hand. “So, how did the cooking lesson with Colton go?”
Stacey forced a smile. “Great. I think he’s ready to fix my super spaghetti recipe all by himself.”
“Good for him,” her mother said. “You’re a sweet girl to help him do that for another woman. Colton’s a good man. I might not be as generous as you are.”
Stacey