Page 12 of Her Grumpy Cowboy
Her smile is small and wicked and hopeful.“You plan a kiss like it’s a mission.”
“I’m planning a lot more than that,” I tell her, honesty and a promise etched in my words.“But I’m going to earn it.”
I move away and toward the door.“Text me if you need anything.No climbing.Not even chairs.”
“There you go, being all bossy and grumpy again.”
“I prefer prepared and realistic.”
“Grady.”She bites her lip.“Thank you.”
“Stop thanking me,” I say gently.“Start telling me what you need.”
She nods once.“Okay.”
I pull the door closed behind me and stand there for a second in the hallway.My hands are still warm from her skin.My jaw’s tight from not kissing her.And my chest?Yeah, that aches in a way I didn’t know it still could.Like something cracked open and let in a little light.
Outside, the sky is pale gray.The wind has picked up, and the snow is starting to flurry.
I zip my jacket, shoving my free hand in my pocket.Main Street is quiet—lights in the bakery still glowing, an old pickup idling outside the diner.Same town I’ve seen a thousand times.Doesn’t look different.
But something is.
Because her number’s in my phone, and her laugh is in my head.
That ache under my ribs?It’s not going away.It’s settling in.Stretching out.
I wasn’t supposed to want this.
I wasn’t supposed to stay.
I wasn’t supposed to want.
But I do.
And for the first time in a long damn time, I don’t feel like a man on the outside of his own life.I feel like I might be exactly where I’m supposed to be.
Chapter4
Angel
I wake early the next morning and head down to the kitchen to make a fresh batch ofMistletoe Mug’sever-popular peppermint bark.The storm is still threatening snow—not the pretty kind.Pretty snow dusts the garlands and kisses the windowpanes.Storm snow leans into the glass and says,open up, I’m coming in.
As I’m placing the peppermint bark in the display cabinet, I hear a tap at the coffee shop window and look up to see my friend, Callie, with her little bundle of joy.
I quickly move to the door to unlock it.The bell above chimes as I open it, admitting a gust of cold air.
Callie is wrapped in a red knit scarf, cheeks pink from the wind, and Danny is tucked against her in one of those baby carriers, his little face snuggled against his mama.
“Hey, you,” I greet Callie with a smile.“You’re up and about early.”
“This little one had me awake at five a.m., wanting to play,” she says, dropping an affectionate kiss on the top of his head.
“Well, come in out of the cold.”I usher them inside and leave the sign onClosedas I shut the door–I don’t open for another hour.
Danny lets out a squeaky little noise that sounds like joy as he takes in the twinkling Christmas lights in the windows and the tinsel sparkling around the picture frames.
I round the counter to grab a blanket from the shelf behind the register and spread it over the big armchair by the radiator.“Sit, snuggle, and I’ll bring you something sweet.”
