“Beau!”
“Yes, like that. Only louder and moanier.” He grins across the table at me. “I’m teasing.”
“I know,” I snap back. It’s hard to pull off indignation when my face is blazing red. Problem is, I can totally envision screaming his name while I’m pinned under him. Or over him. I’m good either way. He continues to smile as he scoops another spoonful into his mouth.
“Are you going with me to check the cattle, or are you staying here?” How does he go from flirty banter one minute to all business the next? I’m still looking for that old-fashioned fan for my face, and he doesn’t even miss a beat. I wish I could learn to be that casual about it.
I have men come on to me all the time, even get an occasional inappropriate proposal. Most of my adult life I’ve had someone to act as a buffer. This time, though, I’m on my own. Unfortunately, left to my own devices, I fall back into my go to when I’m nervous. I start to yammer.
“No, I think I’ll stay inside. Those Christmas decorations aren’t going to hang themselves. I need to string the lights first, then assemble some more ornaments to complement our snowflakes, not to mention the icicles. You know, you can’t just throw those up all willy-nilly. Each one needs to be placed carefully.”
I stop when I notice Beau grinning at me again. “Stop. You’re making me nervous,” I whine. Not a good sound coming out of my mouth.
“Then my work here is done.” In one perfect move, he stands, bends over to kiss my forehead, and sweeps the bowls up from the table. I might be fangirling a little bit.
“I’ll get those,” I say as I push up from the table. “You cooked, I’ll clean.”
“That would be great. Maybe I can get back before it turns dark.” He stands next to the sink as we stare across the small kitchen at each other. Then he’s stepping up to me. His lips meet mine, and I melt against him. I know it seems silly to get so worked up over something as simple as a kiss, but damn that man can light me up like no one has before.
His tongue sweeps against mine. My hands act on their own curling into the front of his shirt. This kiss makes me want to throw caution to the wind. Forget that I’m only here a short time. It makes me want to fall into his arms and never let go. Sadly, he steps back. I release the front of his shirt as he smiles.
“I’ll be back soon.” He walks to the door and pulls on his outerwear. With his hand on the door, he stops. “Maybe we can pick up where we left off.” With a grin, he walks into the snow.
I stand in the door between the kitchen and mudroom staring after him like a deer in the headlights. Shaking myself from my sex stupor, I look over where Reacher is sprawled on his pillow.
“Okay. So. Christmas.” The dog opens one eye in acknowledgment. He’s going to be of no help. That’s fine. I have plenty to keep me busy.
BEAU
To say it’s cold outside would be an understatement. It’s colder than when we got back at lunch. I understand that we have winter, but it’s the Texas hill country, not the Arctic. At least Ihave an enclosed tractor to put out hay and drag the feed trailer around with.
That kiss also goes a long way to keep me warm. I love how she throws herself into kissing me back every time.
“Hey, boys,” I say, walking into the barn. Pulling the horse blankets off a rack, I carry them into the stall. I’ve left the doors open so they can wander outside if they want. The fact they’re both huddled inside one of the stalls means that’s the last thing they want. I clip the blankets on both of them and toss more hay in the mangers.
“So you’ve both met her now.” I move on to scooping out some grain from the bin. “What do you think? Am I way out of my league?” They both snort in the cold air as I fill the bunks hanging on the side of the stalls. “Yeah, I thought that’s what you’d say.”
I take a few minutes to scoop out some of the manure they’ve gifted me with. It would be nice if you could housebreak a horse.
“See, the problem is she deserves everything Nashville can give her. She’s a star, and I’m…well, I’m just some guy she got stuck with in a snowstorm.” I close the barn door and turn to look at the house.
“Man, I’d really like to be a part of her world though. Even if just for a little while.” Walking to the other side of the barn, I pull open the door where I store the tractor. I climb in and drive to the hay barn.
I know I told Harmony I’d be back before dark, but it’s well past that by the time I pull the tractor back into the barn. It was a struggle to work through the snow to put the hay out. Then, I had to find the cattle to feed. I don’t like making them come out of the cover in the draws to eat. It’s important they maintain their body heat, so I went to them.
Closing the barn door, I walk around the corner to the house. The Christmas tree glittering in the front windows brings me to astop. She’s done an amazing job. I’m not surprised. I’m positive she’s amazing at anything she sets her mind to.
But it’s the first time I’ve seen a tree lit in those windows since my brother left. Mom would love what she’s done. I can almost hear her lecturing me about the importance of traditions. But what good are traditions when there’s no one to share them with?
Stepping inside, I pause to take in the transformation of what used to be my home. Harmony looks up from where she’s curled up on the couch under a blanket. Her face tells me she’s waiting to see what I think, and if I’m smart, it will be a glowing review.
The tree is sparkling in the soft light. It’s covered in homemade ornaments woven between our snowflakes. They’re all shapes, sizes, and colors.
The mantel over the fireplace is covered in silver branches she must have found around the house. Where the silver paint came from, I have no idea. She’s balanced brightly colored balls that look like pieces of candy among the branches. Attached to the mantel are five stockings with the correct names on them. She’s even made one for Travis and his boyfriend.
A table runner I haven’t seen in a long time covers the coffee table. She’s dug out every candlestick and candle my mother owned to create a festive scene down the middle. She’s even made an impressive construction paper representative of mistletoe which hangs in the doorway between the living room and kitchen.
“Wow,” I murmur. Her gaze follows me cautiously as I work my way around the room, taking it all in. “You’ve been busy.”
