Page 5 of Her Candy Cane Cowboy
“Ginger?” I ask not recalling any of the neighbors having that name.
“Ginger Boyd. She’s the party planner I met online and hired to handle the party at the community center. I could tell she was hurting.”
That’s Mary. She has a knack for finding the wounded.
I turn. Well, hell. It’s my lucky day. The curvy beauty who didn’t appreciate that dildo is walking toward us. Ginger. Her name fits her as well as those jeans she wears.
Mary pokes me in the side with her index finger. “So that’s the lay of the land.”
“What?” I ask, projecting innocence, but my thoughts are anything but.
Ginger’s steps slow as she draws closer and recognizes me. Her hand goes up to clutch the front of her coat tighter around her gorgeous body. And though she greets Mary and Christopher politely, there’s definitely frost in the look she gives me.
I can’t help myself. Grinning widely, I tease,” You’re chasing me now, darlin’?”
Her cheeks redden. “Certainly not.”
She’s prim and proper and it turns me the fuck on. I reckon I better hightail it away from her before my bulge gets too noticeable.
“I’m heading to the bunkhouse. I’ll be back in a bit,” I tell Mary and Christopher. I pause close to Ginger. “Unless you need me?” I raise an eyebrow.
“Never,” she says forcefully under her breath giving me another frosty look before following Mary and Christopher inside the farmhouse.
I hear Mary say something about them making ornaments for the Winter Market as the front door closes.
Retreating off the porch, I walk in the direction of the bunkhouse. Snow is covering the ground as far as the eye can see and while I enjoy this type of weather, my brain is focused on the woman I want for Christmas this year. And every year after that.
When I step into the bunkhouse it still smells the same as my memories of it. Like Mary’s lemon furniture polish and pine wood.
The scent of chili hangs in the air and though I’m not ready to eat quite yet, my stomach growls. Cole’s chili is the best.
Nate comes over to hug me and we exchange thumps on the back. I grin at him. “I made a girl hate me.”
“What else is new?” Cole mutters.
“No, she really hates me,” I say. “I met Ginger at the post office with a dildo.”
“What?” Nate says.
“Marshall sent it to me. She mistakenly thought it was her package.” I can’t stop grinning recalling the incident and how meeting her took my heart by surprise.
“What a charming story to tell the grandkids,” Grady says dryly from the doorway. Grady was always the leader of us when we were teens.
Knowing he’s dealt with tough combat missions, I have mad respect for him.
I wave away his comment. “There’s a thin line between love and hate.”
“That thin line is called a restraining order,” Dallas teases before turning to talk to Grady.
I take off my coat and head closer to the fire crackling in the fireplace, catching the scent of a Christmas tree as I move. A pang of nostalgia hits.
“Hey, your boots,” Nate reminds me. I quickly remove them and walk around in my socks. We all try to be mindful of keeping the place neat so it’s less work for Mary.
Cole asks if I’m staying in one of the six bedrooms before informing me that Nate isn’t going to because he wants to be closer to Callie and her young son, Danny.
“I’m staying,” I say as Cole begins passing out bowls filled with his mouth-watering chili. It’s mouthwatering now, but it sure as hell didn’t used to be.
We all take a seat at the table. One of the iron clad rules around this place when I was here as a teenager was that we eat together like a family. At first, it was awkward. I wasn’t used to anyone giving a shit whether or not I ate.
