Page 102 of Dallas

But it hadn’t come yet. And she was pretty thrilled about it.

Still, the idea that he was happiest alone...she didn’t like that either. “Well, you pick the movie.”

“Die Hard.”

“Ugh. Fine. I’ll get the cupcakes.”

“And a beer.”

“Cupcakes and beer?” She made a face. “Instead of dinner?”

“It’s my house. My rules. Beer.Die Hard.”

“Cupcakes. Manly.”

“Put a piece of bacon on them and man them up.”

“I think I’ll pass.”

“Great. You go get that stuff and I’m going to...” He looked at the couch, then at the fuzzon the floor.

“You’re going to clean up.”

“I know how to party on Friday night.”

“You surely do show a lady a wild time.” Their eyes met and she felt a tug that went down deep, from her heart to her stomach. “I’ll just...cupcakes. And maybe I’ll fry bacon for a side.”

She turned and went into the kitchen. Where she could get a momentary reprieve from Jace’s scent, his hot body and the looks that made her feel like she was being turned inside out.

Chapter Four

Saturdays were always slammed at the bakery. When Samantha got back to Jace’s that evening she was carrying a box of unfrosted sugar cookies and a tube of red icing, and she was ready to fall over.

“You’re late tonight,” Jace said when she walked through the door.

“Tidings of comfort and joy!” she said, holding out the cookies.

“Busy day?”

“Yes,” she groaned, setting the box on the sideboard that was just by the door. Then she took off her gloves, her hat and her coat and put them on the floor. “Where is Poppy?”

“I set her free. Back into the wild where she belongs. She should be making her way back to the Canadian wilderness as we speak.”

“Jace, where is my dog?”

“In front of the fireplace. She had a busy day following me around. I think she’s out of shape.”

“Yeah, we don’t do much in the way of ranching.”

“I didn’t figure. She did like playing in the snow though.”

“Aw, fun. I’ll have to go out with you both for a while tomorrow. Sunday, my blessed day of rest,” she said.

“Holiday orders getting heavy?”

“Around Thanksgiving I made so many pies my fingers were curled into claws for days, and it hasn’t slowed down much. Mince pies, apple pies, pumpkin pies. I have a special order in for a cherpumple.”

His dark eyebrows locked together. “What fresh hell is that?”

---