Page 13 of The Christmas Blueprint

His reaction was instantaneous. Humiliating. He stiffened. Stilled. And then pulled away.

“Sorry,” he said again.

“Why do you keep saying that?” Sure, she’d crushed on him from afar as a kid, but they were adults now.

His eyes bugged. “I’m no poacher.”

Oh. She wanted to kick him with her new blue leather cowboy boots with the wildflower bouquet embroidered in a splash of color on the backs.

“I’m not a wild animal,” she shot back but made the mistake of looking into his eyes.

They’d always fascinated her. Green with traces of gray clouds scuttling across a forest hinting at a quick summer shower.

“I know.” Killian rocked back on his heels and jammed his hands into his pockets as if determined to never touch her again.

Untouchable.

Because she’d been Enrique’s. That’s how the whole town saw her. Hometown hero Enrique Reyes’ forever grieving fiancée, never to be his wife or mother of his children.

“I’m sorry,” Killian said again, his face so sincere she wanted to slap him.

Sophia tapped the toe of her boot on the cement before she remembered it was practically sacrilege. The boots were a sample she’d bought from a new leather artist who’d moved to the Applegate Valley after the unexpected inheritance of a small working farm.

“Stop saying that,” she mimicked his earlier walking motion with her fingers. “As you reminded me, time marches on.”

And Killian Flanagan was not going to stand in her way.

“Soph.” His voice leaked with regret. He ran a lean hand through all that thick, slightly curly chestnut hair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so cold. I miss En…”

She practically growled, interrupting him.

Time to big girl panty it up and be the business leader she wanted to be. She’d stood up to the mayor today. She’d faced down her mother and Raoul’s concerns. She could easily hold her own with Killian.

“Don’t be sorry,” she said, forcing herself to stand still and look him in his beautiful eyes with his long, chestnut feathery eyelashes that had been the envy of so many high school girls.

She tried to ignore the flip of her tummy as she faced him and the imprint of his warm, hard body that still buzzed on her skin and teased her nerves. “I’m so sick of people saying they are sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Yes, I too am sorry, but I’m here.” She pounded on her chest, emotion rising up. “Right here. Alive. Wanting to live. Making big plans.”

*

Once again, he’dblown it with Sophia. Not that he’d ever been in the game. But dang, his mouth and his timing just sucked. He’d wanted to hold her, to comfort her, and then suddenly his body perked up remembering how much this one woman had always had the power to stir him. Not just his body but his mind and what his romance-reading colleagues would call his heart.

She couldn’t stir any of it.

She was Enrique’s fiancée. What kind of friend would that make him? When Enrique had called to tell him that Sophia had agreed to marry him, he’d asked him to be his best man and, if anything ever happened to him, to watch over Sophia and any children they were blessed to have.

They had not been blessed.

And he’d done a piss-poor job of watching out for her.

He’d pushed her away when she’d clung to him needing comfort because he was still madly attracted to Sophia as if all the years hadn’t happened.

Pull it together, Flanagan.

“So…” He paused, wanting to choose his words carefully, but something about being back in Bear Creek had him reverting to his wise-cracking teenage persona. It had been his default. Probably his father had held him on such a tight leash. And Enrique had always been so driven and intense, and Hunter had been just trying to survive and keep his sister fed and safe and with him in the foster care system.

“I’m a jerk,” he said. “An idiot. Still.” She didn’t respond. “Contain your shock.”

“You may take none of us seriously—” Sophia swept her arm out dramatically “—and feel like being back in Bear Creek is boring and beneath you, but this is my home. I love it. And this—” she swept her other arm out, pointing up, and then she turned a full circle “—is my mission.”

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