Page 4 of A Cowboy Home for Christmas
That was the first time I noticed Barker. Like really noticed him. I’d been asking Gunnar to change the cracked seat for months. Every time I sat down, the damn thing pinched my ass. And finally, one day, I broke into tears. On the damn toilet. The girls had been nearing the end of their terrible twos. I’d just finished cleaning peanut butter off every surface in their bedroom. Stripping the sheets from their beds. Dunking them both in a bath. When the seat pinched my skin, I’d sobbed. I’d bawled so hard I hadn’t even heard Barker shouting at me until he burst down the door. With me still planted on the toilet. Underwear at my ankles. Peanut butter in my hair. Tears streaming down my face. Not my finest moment. It wasn’t until the next day when he fixed the dreaded toilet seat that I realized I got knocked up by the wrong Bennett brother.
“You should’ve been rewarded for sitting on a cracked seat as long as you did.”
A real smile steals my lips. “I was rewarded. With you.” My smile drops. “I meant, with you fixing the toilet seat. That was my reward. Like,youweren’t my reward. That’s not what I meant at all. I meant —”
He’s grinning at me like I’m a babbling idiot.
I crack, and laughter spills out of me. He joins in with his deep chuckles.
When the moment passes, we’re left to stare at one another. Like we always do. That stare to nowhere. Only, now, it could go somewhere. The question is, do I want it to? Does he? Is his recent absence my answer?
“I knew what you meant.”
“Of course, you did.” I take a deep breath andfind the second suitcase and carry it to the dresser. “This log cabin is amazing. It’s huge. Six bedrooms. And did you see your mama’s face light up when she saw the kitchen?”
“I did.”
“And your father couldn’t sit near that fireplace fast enough.”
“He’s nostalgic about things like that.”
“I’m not surprised your mama’s baking up a storm. I’m sure she won’t let us eat at the restaurant. She loves her kitchen.”
“She does. But, I did rent the gingerbread house for Christmas supper.”
“What’s the gingerbread house?”
“A life-size gingerbread house where we’ll eat our meal inside.”
I glance over my shoulder, feeling like a kid at Christmas. “I can’t wait to see it.”
His presence, and his crooked smirk sends warmth pooling below.
I clear my throat. “And I appreciate a room attached to the girls.” I turn back to the clothes. “This is exactly what they needed for Christmas.”
Gunnar always spent the holidays with us. He showed up like Santa with an armful of presents and energy to play for days. Then he was gone again. Chasing his dream of being a champion bull rider. This year, Thanksgiving had been difficult enough for my girls. I’ve been dreading Christmas.
“Fox Lodge will definitely keep us occupied and entertained.” I unpack the bag way too quickly.
I’m forced to face him.
I chew on my bottom lip, hating the silence between us, or afraid of it.
“I think we all needed a new scene for the holidays.” He hasn’t moved, and his stare doesn’t leave me. “It was nice to see the three of you laughing again.”
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from saying how I actually feel. I’m tired of everyone pitying me. Poor widowed mother of twins forced to do everything herself. I’ve been doing it myself for six years! I don’t need their pity.
Barker steps forward. “You, Lauren. It was nice to see you smile. It’s been a long time.”
A long time. Not six months. Not since my husband died. It’s as if he’s the only one who knows how unhappy I’ve been. That I didn’t need to find my husband in bed with another woman to know he’d been cheating.
“It’s nice to smile.”
“That’s what this week is about.”
Awkwardness caves in. “I guess I should change for our trip to the tree farm.”
“I guess I should, too.”
