Page 52 of Evergreen Christmas

Oh. She had a point. That wasn’t something a gentleman would do. “Okay. Maybe not such a good i—”

Her soft mouth touched his and everything disappeared—the bar, the people . . . the world. All that existed was the gentle press of her lips and the sweet-smelling waves of her hair spilling down around him. He cupped the back of her head, weaving his fingers through the long strands as her chest lowered against his. Then he parted her lips with his, kissing her deeply, tasting her, savoring the feel of her against him.

“Hey!” A throat cleared. “Get off him, woman. My brother’s in a vulnerable state.”

And just like that, she was gone.

Nate reached out but only cold air hit his hands. “Jordyn—”

Then her warm hand curled around one of his arms and a stronger one grabbed hold of the other one, tugging him off the floor and to his feet.

“Tucker’s right,” Jordyn said near his ear as she helped him gain his balance. “You need to get home and into bed.”

He smiled, finally focusing on her face—just one of them this time. “Yep. That’s exactly what I wanna do. But with you.”

Jordyn flushed.

Tucker cackled. “Oh, man. I’m never gonna let him live this one down.”

“Another time, maybe,” Jordyn said, leaning over and kissing his cheek. “When you’re good and sober.”

“But . . .” Her hands left him, and he watched her walk away, her red Santa suit and long red hair disappearing into the throng of people still milling about the bar.

“Come on, brother.” Tucker, grinning ear to ear, threw his arm around Nate’s waist and hauled him toward the door. “I’m gonna drive your chauvinistic butt home and put you to bed. You need a good night’s sleep, ’cuz you’re dang well gonna regret every second of this in the morning.”

Chapter Eleven

Jordyn should be embarrassed—thoroughly embarrassed—for showing up at Nate’s front door the next afternoon, but a call from Roxie early that morning, inviting Jordyn to come to Frosted Firs Ranch and bake gingerbread had been impossible to resist.

So, at two o’clock the next afternoon, Jordyn stood at the front door of the main house at Frosted Firs Ranch, cradling a basket stocked full of cooking supplies in her arms while her heart beat rapidly in her ears.

“Just stay cool,” she whispered to herself quietly. “You don’t even get this worked up in the arena.”

Okay, so she’d kissed Nate on the floor of the bar the night before. So what? He’d asked her to, and when she’d hovered over him, looking into his deep blue eyes as he pleaded with her, she hadn’t had the heart to deny him. In fact, she had longed for the moment for quite some time, hoping he’d come to his senses and decide to take a chance on her. But her secret fantasies of Nate finally succumbing to his attraction to her had not involved copious amounts of alcohol.

That, she could have done without.

It wasn’t that she didn’t think he could fall for her when sober. She knew how to turn on the charm when she needed to, and she had a sneaking suspicion that Nate was just as strongly attracted to her as she was to him—especially if his words the night before were anything to go by.

I want to kiss you. A lot.

That’s what he had said as he had stared up at her with a yearning expression.

Her blood rushed at the thought. Even now, she’d give in to him again in a split second if he extended the invitation for her to kiss him a second time. And oh, how she hoped he would!

The remembered feel of his lips against hers had stayed on her mind—and heart—all last night and through the morning and afternoon. There was nothing in the world she wanted more than to feel Nate’s arms around her again, his mouth on hers and his—

The front door opened and Nate stood in front of her, a carefully guarded expression on his handsome face.

“Oh!” The basket slipped in her grip, and she hefted it higher against her chest, her cheeks burning. “I . . . good morning—er, afternoon, I mean.”

Boy, did he look wonderful! Despite the dark circles under his eyes and his stubble-lined jaw (possibly small signs of a hangover that still clung to him), he looked as gorgeous as ever. His blond hair was tousled adorably and unlike last night, today, he was dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved flannel shirt suitable for the winter wind that swept over the porch and rustled through their hair.

“Hi.” He stared back at her for a moment, his mouth opening and closing silently before he stepped back and opened the door wider. “Please, come in, out of the wind. You must be freezing.”

“Oh, it’s not that bad,” she said, walking past him into the foyer. “A little windy, I guess. But I’ll take it. The weatherman said the cold front coming through is going to bring another round of snow.” She smiled, just the thought of a white Christmas making her giddy. “Wouldn’t that be wonderful? Seeing snow fall on Christmas morning?”

He issued a small smile. “Yeah. But that doesn’t happen too often—even up here in the mountains. It’s kind of a guessing game as to when we’ll get snow and how much of it.”

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