Page 36 of A Cowboy Home for Christmas
“I know.”
The path leads us to a wooded area. It breaks off into a fork. Strings of twinkle lights drape in both directions.
“Which way?” Barker points in each direction, reading the arrows. “Tinsel Trail or Winter Wreath Walkway.”
I shrug.
“Tinsel Trail it is.”
The trail is a magical wonderland. Swags of vibrant metallic tinsel garland drape amongst the trees. Jumbo clear ornaments hang above us filled with colorful tinsel. Plus shiny strands of individual tinsel reflects on the branches.
At the sharp U turn in the path, Barker cups my elbow. “This way,” he whispers in my ear.
He shines the flashlight from his phone to a trampled down pathway off Tinsel Trail.
“I don’t know if we’re supposed to leave the path.”
“Aren’t you tired of following the rules?”
He has no idea how tired I am.
We sneak through the dark woods, careful of branches above and ruts below. We don’t meet anyone, but I can hear the soft voices coast from the trails.
“Do you know where we’re going?”
“Maybe.”
I laugh. “Do not get us lost.”
“Why not? Then you couldn’t run away from me.” He’s teasing, but I hear a hint of seriousness.
I stop. “I wasn’t running away from you.”
He turns around, pointing the flashlight at the dirt ground between us. “That’s exactly what you did.” He hides his feelings behind a calm facade. Most people can’t tell when he’s angry or sad or disappointed. I know he’s all three.
“Not intentionally.”
“I was right there, Lauren.” He steps closer. “You should’ve come to me. We should’ve talked.”
I shake my head. “We wouldn’t have talked. I would’ve ended up in that shower with you. We both know it.”
“Not if you said no. Not if you don’t want me.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“What are you saying?”
My hands dive nervously back into my pockets. “I panicked, I guess. I got scared.”
Even though darkness surrounds us, the light reflects upward enough to see his eyes. “Care to elaborate?”
Every part of me doesn’t want to elaborate. Every single part of me wants to ignore my fears and kiss him. But my actions don’t only reflect on me. I have to think about my girls. I’m always thinking about my girls.
“What if we’re not meant for each other? What if we start dating and were not compatible? What if we’ve only been lusting for each other because we knew it wasn’t possible, and now that it is, we’ll realize we never even liked each other.”
“That’s not what’s happening here.”
“But what if it is. Then we’ve involved the girls and they’ll be looking up to you like their father figure. I’m not saying you’ll replace Gunnar. But when we separate, they’ll lose you, too.”
