Page 18 of Must Love Mistletoe

“Are you humming country music songs as you go?”

“I’m whistling tunefully.”

Cal Casey had a playful side, and it was dry and delicious. “Come visit us in Marietta, cowboy. You can tease me about being responsible for the worst marriage proposal you’ve ever received and scoff at the pitiful garden I’ll try to create. You can demand food in return for bringing me a load of cow manure and straw.”

“I’ll help you settle wherever you want to go.” He looked inexplicably sad for a moment. “Even though I don’t want you to go.”

“Don’t feel bad for us, cowboy. This is the best outcome I could ever imagine. Sam and I get to watch this place being run properly,finally, and we’ll still be a small part of it. Silent, grateful partners.”

“You’re sure?”

“Best deal to ever come my way.”

And for all that they’d never been touchy feely, she stepped up into his space and wrapped her arms round him and hugged him hard.

He tugged her into a bear of an embrace, and she closed her eyes and rested her head against his chest and felt cherished for the first time in years.

She could hear the solid thud of his heart and wondered what he’d do if she loosened a few buttons of his shirt and pressed her lips to warm skin. He might lower his head. Their lips might touch.

Daydreams could be so lovely sometimes.

She was allowed to take this little slice of comfort, wasn’t she? Didn’t have to mean anything. “Thank you for checking on us… and for wanting the best for us. You always have, and I want you to know that I only want the best for you, too.”

His arms tightened briefly, and then he set her aside and stepped away, taking all that lovely warmth with him.

“I’m going to join a painting class. Paint and sip, they call it, because they added wine,” she told him, because suddenly she didn’t want him to leave. Not with this uncomfortable tension thrumming between them.

“Sounds good.”

She didn’t for one moment believe that he thought it sounded like a good idea forhim. “Want to come with me?”

“Er.” His startled horror made her laugh. “No.”

“I’ll look for a class we can all do. Sam, too. Something manly and tough. Metal work. Welding.”

His smirk told her he probably had ample expertise in both.

“Leather work. Saddle making.”

“Lady, Iteachclasses in that.”

“One day, I’m going to invite you to something you can’t resist,” she warned.

His smile was one to treasure. “Looking forward to it.”

“What if I became your matchmaker?” She’d heard he dated now and then, but nothing serious, nothing firm. “You said you were in the market for a proper relationship.”

“Did I? When?”

“Yesterday, during the rejection that shall not be mentioned, you said you wanted the real thing.”

“Hmm.”

“So, what’s the hold up? Is something wrong with your, er, equipment? Because there are treatments. Pills. Options.”

He snorted. “My equipment works just fine.”

She felt her cheeks heat at the mental image of Cal’s equipment in perfect working order, not that she’d ever seen it, but if resting bulges were any indication, Cal Casey was packing plenty. “So, is it a matter of, uh, preferences? Because if you mentioned what it is you’re specifically looking for, people might be able to help.”

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