A Cowboy Under the Mistletoe (6 page)

“You’re leaving?”

He grabbed his hat from the counter before turning to face her. “If I stay, I guarantee things will get out of hand.”

“Not necessarily.”

He gazed at her without speaking.

“Okay, you’re right. That kiss was a barn burner. Dampened my panties.”

He sucked in a breath. “Don’t tell me that.”

“Why not? You might as well know how you affect me since I’m well aware how I affect you. I was there, remember? I could tell what was going on with you.”

“I’m sure you could.”

Her gaze swept down to his crotch. “Still going on, I believe. When we have these pre-sex meals you’re determined to share, you’d better keep your hands and knees to yourself or no telling what might happen in the privacy of our booth.”

“Nothing will happen because we’ll sit at the counter.”

“Spoilsport.”

“I’m just trying to—”

“I know.” She sighed. “And I get it, actually. I need to stop giving you grief. Tonight’s been emotional for me, and you don’t want to take advantage when I’m feeling needy. But you won’t say so because you’re a true gentleman.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You are, Ty. You came over for a night of fun and games and instead you ended up with a woman getting teary and homesick over Christmas carols. Another guy might have seen that as an opportunity, but not you. You’d rather get together when I’m feeling strong and happy. Am I right?”

“Sort of.” His conscience was giving him hell. “For the record, I had a reaction to those carols, too.”

“You did?”

“My folks and I always put up our tree on the Friday after Thanksgiving and played Christmas music while we did it.”

She drew in a breath. “Oh, Ty. I’m so sorry. I should have realized that the holidays might be a tough time for you.”

“They’re not. It’s been fourteen years since they died, and the plane went down in July. It wasn’t a tragic accident during Christmas.”

“Fourteen years might sound like a long time to some people, but it doesn’t to me. And holidays can be difficult no matter when the tragedy happened.”

“Thanks for that, but I’m pretty much at peace with losing them.” He’d discovered that saying he was at peace usually kept people from feeling sorry for him.

“I’m glad.”

“Besides, I enjoy Christmas. I hadn’t put any importance on the Friday night tree decorating tradition, and I’m surprised it bothered me.” He put on his hat and shoved his arms into the sleeves of his coat.

“Still, I wish I’d known.”

“What if you had? I wouldn’t have wanted you to change your plans because I might get upset.” He gestured to the tree. “But I apologize for not finishing the job.”

“The lights are the hardest part. I’ll take care of the rest. It’ll be all decorated when you come over tomorrow night.”

“That sounds great.” He dropped a quick kiss on her cheek and headed for the door. “See you at one.”

“You don’t have to take me out for two meals. That seems silly.”

He turned back and smiled at her. “Just go with it, okay? I want chaperones to make sure we sit and talk.”

“Does that mean we won’t be talking tomorrow night?” She stood in the glow of the colored lights, her skin flushed and her breathing shallow. He’d never seen a sexier, more beautiful woman in his life.

He gripped the door handle to remind himself that he was leaving, by God. “Probably not much.” And he walked out before he changed his mind.

5

S
OMETIME
AFTER
ELEVEN
the next morning, Rosie Padgett came through the door of Rangeland Roasters. Whitney wasn’t terribly surprised to see Ty’s foster mother. In Rosie’s shoes, she would have done the same.

Rosie pushed back the hood of her down jacket and fluffed her blond hair as she walked toward the counter. Then she unzipped the jacket to reveal a red sweatshirt with “Dear Santa, I can explain...” lettered on the front.

Whitney laughed. “Nice sweatshirt.”

“Couldn’t resist it. Herb says it’s so me.”

“He should know. Mocha Madness today?”

“You know it, girlfriend.”

“Anything else?”

“No, thanks. Ate too much apple pie yesterday.” She took money out of her purse and handed it to Whitney. “But I really need the caffeine. Christmas shopping after this.”

“Good for you. I haven’t even started.” Whitney rang up the coffee and turned to Meryl, who’d just finished making a Peppermint Passion order. “Are you caught up, or do you need me to make it?”

“I’m caught up.” Meryl smiled. “Hi, there, Rosie.”

“Hey, Meryl. Whitney’s keeping you busy, I see.”

“That’s how I like it.” She started putting together Rosie’s drink.

“Busy is definitely good.” Whitney was glad nobody had come in after Rosie, though. It gave her a chance to mention last night’s invitation. “Sorry I didn’t make it out dancing with everyone, but thanks for asking me.”

“I was sorry, too. Ty said you were bushed after working all day.”

“Um, yeah, sure was.” That was as good an excuse as any and she appreciated Ty making one for her.

“Maybe another time. He’s an excellent dancer. It’s like being on
Dancing with the Stars
.” She glanced behind her as more customers came in. “You may get too busy, but if you could come over and sit for a minute, that would be great.”

“I will if I can.” She’d love a woman-to-woman chat and she figured Rosie felt the same now that they had Ty Slater in common.

Rosie thanked Meryl for the coffee and carried it to a vacant table next to the window. In no time, Rosie’s friend Harriet came through the door. Once Harriet had her coffee she joined Rosie and they began an animated conversation.

So much for a private discussion about Ty. Whitney should have realized that was unlikely. Rosie might come in alone most of the time, but she never stayed that way for long. She seemed to know everyone in town, and inevitably at least one friend would show up. More often it would be two or three.

But a little while later, Harriet’s husband stopped in and they both left. Whitney put Meryl in charge of the counter and walked over to sit across from Rosie. “How was your Thanksgiving?”

“Wonderful. I’ll bet you worked most of the day, didn’t you?”

“I did, but no worries. I’m not martyring myself to the cause. I’ll close on Christmas. I just promoted Meryl to assistant manager, so now I have someone to cover for me when I’m gone.”

“Good call. She’s a hard worker.”

“And ambitious and intelligent. I lucked out with her. Anyway, she’s taking Christmas Eve Day and the twenty-sixth for me. I’ll drive down to Cheyenne to see my folks then.”

Rosie nodded in approval. “Excellent. I’m sure they miss you.”

“They do, and I miss them, but opening this new location is a terrific opportunity for me.”

“You’re doing a fine job, too. Incidentally, I’m glad you and Ty rediscovered each other.”

“He’s a great guy.”

“I agree.”

Whitney smiled. “I’m sure you do.”

“I guess you’re aware of his background because it was printed on the calendar. I’m still not sure how I feel about that. It helps the cause, but I think it bothers him for strangers to know those details. He hates the idea of being pitied. All my boys do.”

“Personally, I admire him for getting on with his life the way he has. I’m sure you and Herb were a part of that healing process.”

“We were, of course, but he had a good foundation. His parents were nice people. We knew them slightly, and my boys went to school with Ty, so naturally Herb and I wanted to help.”

“He’s lucky you were there for him.”

“He knows that. At first he was mad at the world, but he’s mellowed out, thank goodness. That doesn’t mean I don’t worry about him.” She reached over and patted Whitney’s arm. “I’m thrilled you’re seeing each other. He told me you have plans to get together today and later this evening, so I assume you’re enjoying each other’s company.”

“We are.” Her face grew warm.

Rosie grinned. “Now that’s cute as all get-out. He turned pink, too, when I mentioned it. Anyway, that’s really what I came in to say, that I’m happy for both of you. I didn’t get a chance to tell you last night.”

“Well, thank you.” She took a steadying breath. “But I’m not sure how much we’ll be seeing each other over the long haul, considering we live so far apart. A five-hour drive, especially in the winter, isn’t all that much fun.”

“I know the situation’s not ideal, but these things have a way of working out if they’re supposed to.” Rosie’s gaze shifted to a spot over Whitney’s shoulder. “Hey, Janine! Saw you come in a minute ago. Recovered from all your dancing last night?”

Whitney turned as one of Rosie’s oldest friends walked over to the table, coffee in hand. Whitney gave up her chair despite Janine’s protest.

Meryl was due for her break soon, and Whitney wanted her to take it so she’d be back before one. Ty had shown up right on time last night and probably would again today. Although she’d called his plan silly, she could hardly wait to see him.

Ever since he’d given her that heated gaze before walking out her door, she’d been riding an adrenaline high. She’d finished trimming the tree while sipping wine from the bottle. There’d been at least a third of it left and they’d washed the goblets.

Then she’d put up her only other Christmas decoration, a ball of fake mistletoe. She’d chosen to hang it in the archway leading into her kitchen, but it didn’t really matter where she put it. Kissing Ty was a foregone conclusion whether she had mistletoe or not.

She’d taken a hot bath in the vain hope that it would relax her. But who could be expected to fall asleep in a bed that probably would be occupied by a gorgeous cowboy in less than twenty-four hours? Finally she’d managed to doze off only to wake up superearly.

At least she’d had plenty of time to put fresh sheets on the bed and clean towels in the bathroom. The sheets were plain white. For a moment she’d wished for something less boring, but then she’d remembered how he’d looked at her.

He wouldn’t notice the color of the sheets. All he’d require would be her naked body stretched out on a relatively soft horizontal surface. And all she’d require would be permission to caress his naked body as they made sweet love all night long.

Being at work had presented another challenge. She had trouble not staring at the calendar. Yes, she could see his sculpted chest even with her eyes closed, but that didn’t mean she didn’t want to study it some more.

That wasn’t a good idea, though. Every time she glanced at Ty’s picture, a shiver of anticipation ran through her. Sooner or later Meryl was liable to notice. Precisely at one, Ty strode into Rangeland Roasters. Today he wore typical wrangler clothes—jeans faded and softened with time and scuffed boots that had seen plenty of action in the barn and the corral. He had on the same shearling jacket and brown Stetson, but underneath he had on a blue chambray work shirt. The longer he was in Sheridan, the less he resembled an attorney.

He met her gaze and she felt the connection from the roots of her hair to the tips of her toes. She gave a short nod to let him know she’d be right with him. Then she ducked into her small office to grab her parka and her phone.

“It’s all yours, Meryl,” she said to her dark-haired assistant as she pushed her arms into the sleeves of her coat. “Call me if you have any problems.”

“I won’t.” Meryl’s quiet confidence had earned her the promotion. She was unflappable.

Whitney required that trait in order to feel comfortable putting someone else in charge of the shop. “Well, let me know if you do. I can be here in no time.”

“Go have fun. You deserve it.”

Whitney lowered her voice. “I don’t know how much fun a girl can have in an hour.”

“With a guy who looks like him? Plenty.”

As Whitney walked toward Ty, she had to agree. His welcoming smile was a party all by itself. She gazed up at him. “Hi, you.”

“Hi, yourself.” Warmth flashed in his gray eyes.

“Rosie came in this morning.”

He nodded. “I’m not surprised. I knew she drove in for some secret Christmas shopping. She’s tickled about us.”

“I could tell.”

“I explained to her that dating isn’t going to be a simple thing with you here and me down in Cheyenne, but she seems to think we can work around it.”

She gazed at him and realized the distance between Sheridan and Cheyenne was shrinking in her mind. “We might.”

“We just might. Time will tell. And speaking of time, we’d better get moving. The clock’s ticking.” With a hand against the small of her back, he guided her out the front door of Rangeland Roasters. Then he laced his fingers through hers and started off at a brisk pace toward the diner.

“Is this what they call speed dating?”

He slowed immediately. “Sorry. Guess I wanted to maximize the time I spend sitting next to you.”

“At the counter, right?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He squeezed her hand. “Especially after you gave me a vivid picture of what might happen in a booth. Besides, we’ll get seated quicker and served faster. Do you know what you want?”

That gave her the giggles, and her breath frosted in the cold air. No more snow had fallen since Wednesday night, but the temperature still hovered around thirty degrees.

“I can see where your mind is.” Laughter rippled in his voice.

“Do you blame me? You’ve strongly suggested that tonight we’ll—”

“Maybe we shouldn’t talk about that.”

“Nobody’s paying attention.”

“Nobody except yours truly, and talking about it makes me want to do it, which has predictable anatomical consequences.”

“
Predictable anatomical consequences?
Is that a legal term?”

“If it’s not, it should be.” He pushed open the door and ushered her into the diner. “And that subject’s officially off-limits.”

“You’re no fun.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. I just pick the appropriate time and place. This isn’t it.” He paused inside the door. “Good. The counter has spots available.”

The hostess arrived and seated them immediately as he’d predicted. The stools had backs, which gave them a place for their coats. Ty barely had time to help Whitney off with hers before two water glasses appeared along with napkins and silverware.