Page 50 of Rocky Mountain Cowboy Christmas
“Oh, I missed that.” She had a feeling that she’d been so preoccupied with Steve for the past few hours that Maya could’ve ridden her ponyinthe store and she probably wouldn’t have noticed. As they reached the door, Camille slipped through it, dodging a large group of people crowding in.
Outside, the air was cold and bracing, and she sucked in a deep breath. It wasn’t until she’d stepped outside that she’d realized how warm she’d gotten, thanks to a combination of the crowds and Steve’s proximity.
He caught up to her after holding the door for a few more customers. “After lunch, we’ll help with the trees. Ryan can do gift-shop duty this afternoon.” His voice was grumbly, and she glanced at him in surprise.
“Don’t you like working in the store?” she asked. He’d been so patient and unrelentingly polite that she’d assumed he hadn’t minded the endless waves of Christmas shoppers.
His face scrunched into a look of distaste that was so un-Steve-like that Camille had to laugh. “No. I’d rather clean five hundred feet of mildewed fire hose than be inside all day. On tree duty, at least, I get to work outside with the horses, and it’s just one customer—or family, which is fine. I get along with most kids.”
“Really?” They passed the lot, where Maya was holding Buttercup’s lead rope while Zoe took a picture of her with a family. At just the right moment, the mare turned her head toward the camera and pricked her ears forward. Camille smiled, impressed at the horse’s modeling skills.
“Really what?” Steve asked, drawing her attention back to him. “You’re surprised that I get along with kids? Why? I do have four of them to practice on, after all.”
“That’s why.” They followed the path toward the house. “I’m not an expert, but I’ve met enough kids to know that yours are not the norm.” When he whipped his head around, eyes narrowed, looking for all the world like a papa bear ready to defend his cubs, she raised her hands in a soothing gesture and swallowed a laugh. She was beginning to really love his protective side. “No, it’s not a bad thing. I meant that they’re abnormally interesting and nice to be around. When you’re with other people’s kids, aren’t you a little, well, horrified?”
It obviously took him a second to switch gears and absorb what she’d said. Once it had sunk it, his expression softened and he barked out a laugh. “Just between us,” he said quietly, leaning in close enough to send a line of shivers down her back, “yes.”
Despite the flush of heat running through her at the touch of his warm breath against her cheek, Camille let out an amused snort. Immediately, she was appalled at herself. He was leaning close, very possibly flirting, and she’dsnorted? She had to have the least game of anyone who’d ever existed, and that included Steve’s brother Joe.
Crazily enough, Steve didn’t seem to mind. Instead of moving away, he just chuckled and stayed close enough for their arms to brush as they climbed the porch steps. She reached toward the doorknob, opening the door as he ushered her through with a light touch on her lower back. She’d noticed he tended to do that—put a hand at the low curve of her spine—and she was surprised by how much she liked that little bit of contact. It was comforting, that tangible sign that he was there, quite literally at her back. The past few days had been hard, but his constant presence and support had helped her get through them without breaking down. That was yet another thing she was grateful for.
As she stripped off her coat, she caught a whiff of something spicy and delicious. “Micah’s been cooking again,” she said.
Steve sniffed the air before shaking his head. “That’s Joe’s chili. Usually, Nate and Micah are the cooks around here, but I imagine Joe made it since he’s feeling guilty for hiding from the customers when we’re so busy.”
Although Camille could empathize with Joe’s distaste for nonfamily human interaction, she felt a little superior since she’d survived a long shift in the gift shop, of all places. She remembered sitting in her car, afraid to even walk into the store when she was delivering the first batch of her sculptures. Now, she’d not only managed to walk into the crowded shop, but she’d stayed forhours. Pride flushed through her, and her chest warmed with affection for Steve. He’d been so accepting, so matter-of-fact, as if he’d had no doubt that she could handle herself. It felt good to have someone who didn’t dismiss her—who, perhaps, had more faith in her than she had in herself.
Her stomach gave a hollow pang at the mouthwatering smell, pulling her out of her thoughts, and she hurried to pull off her boots so she could go eat something. “I didn’t realize how hungry I was.”
“Me either.” He followed her into the kitchen. Lucy eyed them from the top of the fridge, making Camille smile. The cat hadn’t lost any time making herself at home. Camille couldn’t really blame her—it was easy to do with the Springfields.
She moved toward the big slow cooker on the counter, but Steve stopped her with a hand on her arm. “Thank you for your help today, Camille. Working in the store isn’t my favorite thing, but you made it bearable.”
“Of course.” She met his eyes and couldn’t look away. His gaze had an intensity that turned his gratitude into something more. Her pulse jumped and stuttered as she tried to keep her words casual. “It’s the least I could do, since you’re letting me live here. Besides, it wasn’t as bad as I thought it’d be.”
“I’m glad you’re here.” The fingers on her arm were gentle, but his touch burned like a brand. She wouldn’t be surprised if his fingerprints were etched into her skin. “Even with my brothers helping out, I still feel like I’m floundering. Having you around makes it easier, somehow, like I have an ally. Not that my kids and I aren’t on the same side.” He grimaced slightly. “I’m explaining this wrong.”
Camille looked at him, her head tilted as she tried to understand what he was saying. It was almost nice to see the stoic and perfect Steve Springfield scramble for words like she always did. He seemed more human…and attainable. “Well…good. I like being here,” she said a little uncertainly, her face warming at the thought of “attaining” Steve. “I like your kids, too.”
His expression turned devilish. “And you said earlier that you likeallof me.”
Instantly, her face went hot, and she was tempted to duck her head, but it was impossible to look away from his warmly teasing gaze. “Well, yeah. I do. I mean…” She waved a hand at him. “Look at you. Of course I like all of that. Not that you’re just your body or anything, of course. Your brain is pretty good, too.”Stop, Camille, she ordered herself.Just stop now.
“Thanks for noticing my brain.” He chuckled, but she knew he wasn’t laughing at her. Instead, the sound was filled with a kind affection and something else, something rough and hot that made her shiver. “Just for the record, I likeallof you, too.”
He stepped toward her, and Camille stared at him, knowing something was happening between them, something both wonderful and scary. The urge to start babbling again, to fill the charged silence, pushed at her, but she swallowed the unsaid words, not wanting to stop him—not when he was getting so close.
His hand on her arm slid down to her wrist and back up, his fingers blazing hot even through her long-sleeved shirt. She glanced down at where he touched her and then back up. Their gazes caught, and she swallowed hard as he leaned closer. Even when their lips were just an inch apart and she could feel his breath warm against her lips, she still couldn’t believe that this was happening.
Steve Springfield is going to kiss me.
The front door banged open. “Steve? Camille? You in here?”
Startled, Camille jerked away from Steve and took a few backward steps on shaky legs until she felt the counter behind her. She leaned on it, using it for support as Ryan walked into the kitchen, still in his coat and boots.
He looked back and forth between her and Steve with an odd expression. “Youarein here. Why didn’t you answer when I yelled?”
Steve glanced at the floor by Ryan’s feet, where chunks of snow had fallen from his boots and were now melting into dirty, icy-cold puddles. “You didn’t really give us a chance. What’s the emergency?” Since she was still dazed and breathless, Camille was glad that Steve had the wherewithal to answer. He even sounded fairly composed, although his face looked flushed and the heat in his eyes hadn’t faded completely. There was an unusual snap to his voice that wasn’t normally there, either.
