Page 20 of Must Love Mistletoe

“Easy done. Thanks for the sugar fix.” He paused when he reached the door, half turning around, his craggy face in stark profile. “Madeline’s been in my ear about love languages and how people show each other that they care. She thinks my way involves doing chores and lightening someone’s load, no words involved.” He nodded and reached for the hat he’d left on the peg by the door. “Maybe she’s right.”

Chapter Seven

Beth couldn’t sleep.She never napped well before a night shift, even though she did all the right things, like eating a solid meal beforehand and making sure her bedroom was dark and warm. She’d tried listening to white noise, meditation music, even go-to-sleep podcasts, and sometimes one of them would work, but most times they didn’t.

Her sleep prep patterns didn’t have an eagle’s chance in the deep blue ocean of helping her out today.

Beth had a bank account bursting with money, she’d paid bills and set her mind at ease, and what was Caldoingchopping wood for her and talking about love languages and tilting his hat justsoand taking the steps two at a time, his stride quick and confident. Busy man, places to go.

Right after setting her world on a tilt.

Flinging her bedcovers aside, she got up, got dressed, and headed for the kitchen. When in doubt, bake.

Brownies were easy, and she always had the ingredients.

Fruit pies were easy, too.

She prepared potato bake for tomorrow, Sam’s favorite.

Put ribs in the slow cooker.

What was Cal’s favorite meal? Would it take a lot to fill him up? There wasn’t an ounce of fat on him, but he worked hard and would need a lot of fuel to keep going.

He had a love language?

He’d also said a solid no to her marriage proposal, for all the right reasons, and she’d accepted that, so what the ever-lovin’ hell did he think he was doing?

Flirting? Had they been flirting?

Getting to know each other on a different level than they’d ever allowed each other before?

Had he been trying to make her aware that although he didn’t want to wed her, he wouldn’t say no to a little somethin’ else? Because maybe she wouldn’t say no to a little something elseeither. Like kissing.

Or hugging.

Climbing all over him.

Maybe even loving him.

Wouldn’t exactly be hard.

*

Days later, Calmade good on his promise to show Sam how to make a leather belt. It was Sunday afternoon, not as if he had anything else planned, even if he did somehow end up with a house full of people to entertain along the way. Sam had ridden up on his pony, bright eyed and buzzing with energy. Jett, Mardie, and their daughter Claire—who was too young to make a belt but not too young to draw daisies all over a square of nubuck leather—were already in his workshop,andthey’d brought food. Seth and Madeline had turned up, with Maddie’s much younger half-brother in tow. The kid was a sweet city boy, a couple of years younger than Sam, and they’d taken to each other like long-lost friends.

Cal forgot sometimes Sam was an only child, and a chatty one, at that, who would have delighted in having a couple of siblings to run around with. Not everyone grew up with four brothers.

“What I want to know is why you’re all here,” Cal said, as Jett passed him a cola. “What have I done to deserve all this attention?”

“Can’t a man bring his family out to visit his favorite brother?” Jett said with a bright smile that Cal knew full well not to trust.

“Didn’t realize that was me.” Because it wasn’t.

Jett and Seth were tight. Cal was closest to Mason, even though they’d been known to rail on each other like bitter enemies. TJ was the loner, but when he did take sides it tended to be with Jett and Seth. Possibly because Cal was a rock and Mason was an ass.

“When I heard you were giving a leather workshop for the next generation of Caseys, I wanted in.” Jett’s direct stare dared him to mention that not one of the kids present was,in fact, a Casey by blood.

Sam’s brilliant grin at being included in the Casey gang didn’t go unnoticed either.

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