Page 13 of Her Cowboy Christmas
“I just… wanted something new.”
I nod, understanding that feeling.“Why’d you get out of the Army?”
“I got shot.”
“What?Oh, my god!Should you be carrying that heavy stuff?”
“I’m fine, Blair,” he says, laughing off my worry.
“Shot where?”
“Here and here.”He pulls up his shirt to show me a scar high on his chest and another lower on his hip.
“Oh, my god,” I whisper, reaching out to run my finger over the marks.
Cole tenses.
“Shit,” I hiss, jerking my hand away.“Sorry.”
He doesn’t say anything; he just grabs my hand and places it back on his skin.
“Does it hurt?”I whisper.
“No, not anymore.It happened almost a year ago.I’m all healed now.”
“Oh.You tensed,” I say, watching as I stroke my hand over his chest.
“You touched me.”
“I shouldn’t have?”
“No.You should.I love it.”
I swallow, refusing to look up, afraid of the emotion that I might see on his face right now.
My fingers brush over the other bullet wound at his hip before I slowly pull my hand away.I clear my throat and step back.
“I’ve got the pieces cut.”
I nod, shaking off my dirty thoughts and forcing myself to focus as we return to the kitchen and get to work.
“Are you hungry?”Cole asks as he nails the cut boards together.
“You don’t have to feed me.I’ll grab something when I go home.”
“I’m hungry.What do you want?”
“What do you have?”
He nods to the fridge, telling me to look at myself.
“Pizza?”I ask, pulling the box from the freezer.
“Sure.”
I flip the box over and read the instructions.Well, not read.I look for the two numbers so I know what temperature to turn the oven to and how long to cook it.
Cole finishes building the little arbor as I preheat the oven and slide the pizza onto the top rack.
