Page 10 of Her Candy Cane Cowboy
I breathe harder, my eyelashes fluttering, my gaze on his lips. My nipples pebble and my core aches. Our bodies compress together, close but not satisfying the urge in me to feel him pinning me beneath his strength in ways I shouldn’t be imagining.
I swallow hard, my hands gripping his arms. His muscles are sculpted like a statue.
We’re both frozen, neither of us looking away.
Goosebumps pebble my skin. I’d like to blame the drafty building, but that would be another lie.
Desire flickers in his eyes then roars to full throttle. My name brushes across his lips in a whisper. His head dips toward mine.
My lips part and—in a memory flash, I see the photo my ex posted of me and read again those cruel online comments. I feel my heart ripping in two again.
“I have to work to do,” I rasp out, my voice ragged. Lowering my hands from his arms, I turn my face away escaping mentally from this moment, from this man.
“I’ll go,” he says softly. “Not because I really want to, but because you’re upset and I feel it will help you if I leave.”
I glance at him and nod.
He picks up his T-shirt bunching it in his fist. “I want to make you happy,” he says quietly.
“Whether I’m happy or not isn’t your responsibility.” My legs are shaky from the rush of emotion thanks to the near kiss coupled with the memory of my past pain.
I remain silently in place until I hear him leave the building.
Then I slide down onto the damp, cold floor and rest my head on my knees. What am I doing? I can’t get my tinsel in a knot just because my body reacts to his nearness. If I’m not careful, I’ll lower my guard and make a mistake my heart can’t afford to make.
Chapter 6
Dallas
I wake up in a bedroom at the bunkhouse earlier than usual. After I came back last night, I spent hours thinking about Ginger and those thoughts made it hard to fall asleep.
My insomnia wasn’t caused just because I had a raging hard-on for her beautiful body but also because she’s carrying a big hurt and that hurts me.
Her heart has sharp edges where I suspect someone broke love and left all the fragments behind to cut her.
I want to help her through whatever it is. I want to bring her joy and carry her burden so it’s not so heavy for her.
I crawl from the bed and dress, then go find my boots and coat. Normally, I’d nose around the farmhouse kitchen to see what kind of delicious breakfast Mary’s putting on the table, but not this time.
My goal is to get to Ginger. The sooner, the better. I hop into the rental car and shiver in spite of my thick coat when the heater takes its sweet time chasing away the cold. I hope the heat was left on at the community center last night. Otherwise, it’ll hit the forties in that building. I don’t like the idea of her being cold.
Before, I’ve always enjoyed the drive into town but today, it’s taking too long to get where I want to be.
Then I see her rental car parked outside the hardware store and swing into a parking space there.
She’s standing in an aisle by the big window wearing a green sweater the same color as that animated cartoon guy who stole Christmas. Part of me wonders if the choice was intentional. Because it’s clear she’s missing holiday cheer.
The bell rings over the door as I stride in and the owner calls out a hearty Merry Christmas and says what a beautiful time of year the holidays are. I see Ginger flinch at his words.
I return the greeting, then walk up next to Ginger, wanting to make her smile. “Miss me?”
She continues looking at paint samples. “It’s too early in the morning for your fantasies.”
“My fantasies kick in any time I see you.”
Her cheeks turn a cute shade of pink, and she sends me a look before she lifts a gallon of paint from the shelf.
I take it from her, and she doesn’t put up a fight. “Just leave it on the counter.” She stops by the register, and I set the paint where she already has rollers and a drip tray.
