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Macie could only stare. They were beautiful.
“I didn’t think I could stand seeing you traipsing about the ranch one more day in those flimsy sandals of yours.” His gaze moved down the length of her, stopping at her currently bare feet.
Macie took one of the boots. “These are beautiful, Holt. How much do I owe you?”
“Not a penny, darlin’,” he said. “Not when you make my parents breakfast every morning.”
Darlin’.He’d called her darlin’. She’d heard him use the term plenty of times. With Ruby. Heck, even with those horses he was training for Briggs. To him, it was a common term. So why did she feel like her heart was in her throat?
She focused on examining the boots so that he wouldn’t see the emotion in her face. “Well, let’s see if they fit, then.” Pulling out a chair, she sat and tugged on one of the boots. The interior was soft, and the boot fit perfectly. “How did you know my size?” She looked up to catch his gaze on her legs.
“Uh, Mom went in your room and checked out the sizes of your other shoes.” He averted his gaze, and Macie could swear there was more color in his tanned skin than there had been moments ago.
She tugged on the next boot, then stood. Walking around the kitchen, she tested them out. They’d take some getting used to, but they fit fine, and were comfortable. She turned to face Holt, who was watching her, a half smile on his face, his arms folded.
“Will they do?” he asked, his blue eyes searching hers.
“They’ll do.” She smiled because there was no way to hold it back.
Holt cleared his throat, then pointed to the other box. “Those are for Ruby. She’ll probably grow out of them in a couple of months, but I thought she’d like ‘em all the same.”
Macie crossed to the table and opened the smaller box. The pink boots with a rhinestone buckle twinkled up at her. Exhaling slowly, she pushed back the growing lump in her throat. “She’s going to love them.” Her voice trembled despite her best willpower not to cry. The tears came anyway. She supposed somewhere in her broken dreams about her marriage, she’d imagined Knox one day bringing home a pair of cowgirl boots for his baby girl.
The man standing across from her didn’t have the green eyes of Knox, but blue eyes. He was a man who had more loyalty in one hand than Knox had in his whole body. She stepped toward Holt, and before she could second-guess herself, she slid her arms about his neck.
“Thank you,” she whispered against his skin.
Holt didn’t move for a second, then his arms came around her and pulled her against him into a full embrace.
“You’re welcome, darlin’,” he said, his voice rumbling in her ear.
She closed her eyes and pressed her face against his warm neck. He smelled of pine and clean soap, and her heart was beating so hard, she was sure he could hear it.
Macie wanted to melt against him, stay in his arms, continue to breathe him in. Memorize the feel of him pressed against her, the scent of him. How he smelled of soap and pine. But this was oh-so-wrong. Not that she couldn’t hug her brother-in-law, but he was her ex-brother-in-law, and he was showing her so many things that were missing in Knox.
Holt relaxed his hold on her bit by bit, and it was a good thing, too, because Macie didn’t have the willpower to release him on her own. Finally, she drew away from him and wiped the tears from her face.
“You okay?” Holt said in a quiet voice, his gaze moving across her face.
“I’m okay,” she said. “Sorry about the, um . . . attack on your person.”
His lips curved. “I don’t mind a hug now and then.”
Now Macie was blushing, and she was literally saved by another tread of footsteps coming from the hallway. Seconds later, Rex walked into the kitchen. Macie had made it back to the stove, where she dished up the eggs and hash browns.
Holt had returned to the far counter and located his coffee mug again.
“I thought I was dreaming,” Rex said with a broad smile. “Can’t tell you the last time I had bacon.”
“I guess I’ll have to make it more often,” Macie said in a bright tone, hoping that her breathlessness wouldn’t give her away. “Finally got Holt to have something other than his coffee.”
Rex chuckled and glanced over at Holt. “Bacon’ll do it. The Prosper men can never turn down bacon.”
Macie looked away from Holt before his gaze moved to hers. She felt another blush start, and soon, she’d be bright red. She moved to the fridge and opened the door, pretending to search for something as she let the cold air cool her face and neck—and well, the rest of her body—for a few moments.
Finally, she snagged the pitcher of orange juice and carried it over to the table, where Rex had sat down with his plate piled high.
“Where you off to, Holt?” Rex asked his son.
