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“Yes,” Wiz whispered.
“He was wrong. Dead wrong. I may not have a great voice, but I know when someone’s on key, and I’ve been to concerts by some of the greatest singers in the world. Your voice isn’t going to get you to the Met, but it’s very pretty. Reminds me of Alison Krause a bit.” He looked in the rear-view mirror again; she was wiping her eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” He should learn to keep his mouth shut.
Wiz shook her head. “You didn’t. I just... well, it’s nice to hear.”
“That guy was such an ass.” Worse, but Tom wasn’t going to drop to that guy’s level.
She snort-laughed. “Yeah, I guess he really was, wasn’t he?”
“Must have been. I can’t imagine cutting anyone down like that. Or ever letting you go.” Tom growled.
“Double for me. You’re better off with us.” Dad put a hand on his arm and shook his head once. Tom nodded in acknowledgment of Dad’s warning. He was pushing too hard. She wasn’t ready for that kind of relationship.
She smiled, but it seemed tremulous. “Yeah, I think I am. Thanks.”
“Oh, no.” Dad shook his head. “Thank you. It’s nice to have another family member around, rather than just us grumpy guys.”
Tom chuckled. “Especially if you can get some work out of them, huh, Dad?”
“Work? All I’m doing is riding.”
Tom snorted. “He’s sucking you in with the riding. Soon, you’ll be exercising all the horses, and then he’ll have you out moving cattle, and the next thing you know, you’ll be feeding them and working like a dog.”
She laughed. “I don’t mind helping once I know what I’m doing, but I do have my own job to do if I’m going to pay the bills.”
Dad mock scowled. “Don’t pay any attention to Tom. He has no idea what he’s talking about. I’m only teaching you to ride so you can ride. That’s it.”
“Uh huh. I figured there had to be a catch someplace.” She giggled and Tom grinned. Twice in one night, that was a great Christmas present. He pulled into her driveway, through the gates, and up to the portico.
Wiz leaned forward. “Do you want to come in?”
“Oh, no.” Dad shook his head. “It’s late, and we’re not used to staying up. Come on down about ten or so for brunch.”
“Okay. Thanks. I’ll see you then.” She leaned between the seats and brushed a kiss across Dad’s cheek. Tom smiled. Then she turned and kissed him, too. “Merry Christmas.” She ran to her door.
Tom was so surprised, he couldn’t move. Her lips were soft against his cheek; the feathery brush of butterfly wings, precious and rare. He blinked, forcing back tears, and looked at Dad. Dad looked equally shocked, then grinned at Tom. “Merry Christmas, Wiz,” Dad called.
He swallowed hard, put the car in gear and drove, his heart pounding in his chest and his eyes trying to spring a leak.
Dad cleared his throat. “Best Christmas present ever, huh, son?”
“Yeah, Dad. Best Christmas present ever.” Tom rubbed his burning heart and thanked God for that, while hoping for more.
Chapter 12
Wiz woke, picked up her cell phone, and blinked. Zero-nine? She never slept that late or that long. She’d better move—she had brunch with Tom and Pete at ten. She smiled and stretched. She’d anticipated a lot of anxiety last night at church, but instead, she’d felt slightly wary but mostly safe and protected. Scoping out the building and surroundings before the event had helped, and Craig’s presence did too. She wasn’t the only one carrying a concealed weapon in a house of worship—she’d seen the slight bulge at the back of Craig’s leather jacket. But mostly, it was Tom and Pete’s presence. Which was strange because she was fairly certain neither of them had been armed. But she still felt safer with them.
Her cheeks heated, then burned. She’d kissed them. It had seemed like the right thing to do on Christmas, after church, but what if they expected more? Or if Tom assumed it would be okay for him to kiss her? She was being ridiculous. Neither of them would do anything to make her uncomfortable.
Wiz threw the covers back. They were both good people who happened to be male. Not men looking for power or sex. Well, at least not at her expense. Tom had looked at her, especially her sweater. But only a quick glance, then he looked away. He hadn’t tried to do anything, not even a hand on her back on their way out the door. Of course, they were in church.
She swallowed and bit her lip. She kind of wanted to know what his hand would feel like on her back, or holding hers. But he’d never make the first move. She’d have to initiate any physical contact, and she wasn’t sure she could. Maybe not ever.
She’d wasted too much time. She rose, showered, dressed, and made a cup of coffee. She wore the same pants and boots from last night, pairing them with a dark burgundy cashmere sweater. She added a simple gold necklace and some diamond studs, then braided her hair back loosely. It felt odd not to put it all the way up so no one could grab it. She’d cut it short, but regularly allowing a stranger with a weapon at her back was out of the question.
Downstairs, she put on her coat, hat, and gloves and grabbed Tom and Pete’s presents. Outside, she slipped her micro spikes over her nice boots and walked. The mini crampons were a wise choice; the road was icy, and the packages were big and awkward. When she reached the ranch house, she pulled off the spikes and let herself in the door, petting Rusty. The smoky goodness of bacon made her mouth water.
“Merry Christmas!” Pete stood in front of the stove. “Have a seat. Do you want some coffee?”
