Hunter stared at her then. He was more than willing to make a house call for Sprinkles. But he’d expected Carl to make the suggestion, not Jo, not after their exchange the other night. Did he dare smile at her? He wanted to.
“Hey, now, that’s an idea.” Carl nodded.
“If you’re free?” She seemed uncertain, hesitant.
Now he really wanted to know what was going on in that beautiful, stubborn head of hers. “I’ll stop by later.” He’d leave work now if he thought it would mean more time with her. “And I’ll install the baby locks, if you have them for me.”
“Fine, but if we’re putting you to work, we’re feeding you.” Carl stroked the dog’s head. Sprinkles whimpered. “Come here.” Carl pulled the little dog close.
“Carl,” Hunter cautioned. “At least let me get you a towel. Things are gonna get messy real fast.”
He saw Jo’s nose wrinkle and laughed.
Carl rubbed Sprinkles’s head. “See there, it’s gonna be fine, little girl.”
When Jo looked at him, her gray gaze was searching. She drew in an unsteady breath and mouthed, “Thank you.” He couldn’t stop staring at her then. He didn’t want to.
The intercom buzzed. “Dr. Boone, you’re needed in OR 1, please.”
“On my way. Please ask Janette to bring in some diapers and a towel for the Stephenses.”
“Yes, sir.” The intercom went quiet.
“Thank you, Hunter.” Carl shook his hand.
“Hunter, if...if you can’t make it tonight—” Jo seemed nervous, flustered.
“I’ll be there,” he promised before leaving the room.
Chapter Four
“Something smells good,” Carl called from his recliner.
“If you stay there, I might just bring you a taste,” Josie yelled back. “You get up and you’re having a peanut butter sandwich.”
“I’m sitting, I’m sitting,” her father grumbled.
“How’s Sprinkles?” She finished basting the roast and slid it back into the oven.
“She’s sleeping again,” he answered her. “Poor little thing.”
Josie shook her head. Better sleeping than needing another cleanup.
She dumped the homemade rolls into a basket and covered them with a fresh linen kitchen towel. Next she boiled some water and put in some tea bags to steep. Once Dad had lain down for his nap and Sprinkles was in a fresh diaper, she’d hurried to the small grocery store for food. She didn’t know who was coming tonight. Dad, Lola and Hunter. Possibly Eli, or the whole Boone clan. A nice roast, complete with potatoes, carrots and fresh onions, had been simmering for the past couple of hours.
“You got the baby locks?” he called.
“Yes, Dad.”
“You sure you have to go out tonight?” Her father kept up the semi-screamed conversation.
Yes, she was sure. What had she been thinking—inviting him over for dinner? She couldn’t risk spending more time with Hunter. She wanted to, a lot, but there was no point. Hunter wasn’t married—he could date anyone he wanted. Except her.
Eli hated her. As far as he was concerned, she was the cause of his parents’ divorce. And there was no way to change that. If there was one thing life had taught her, it was that nothing should come between a parent and child. How many times had her mother missed her art exhibitions or play performances while dating or divorcing one of her husbands? Each and every time Josie was forgotten. It didn’t matter that she’d eventually be drawn into her mother’s new family, because that was temporary, too. Love and trust were the two things she didn’t have a lot of experience with while growing up.
She wouldn’t threaten the bond he and Hunter shared. In some pretty perfect world, she and Hunter might have been able to make it work. But that wasn’t real life. Eli needed his father and Hunter needed his son. So, even though everything had changed, nothing had changed. Avoiding Hunter, trying to convince Eli she had no plans for his father, was all she could do until it was time to move to New Mexico—if she took the job. She’d been a vagabond for almost three years now, six months here, four months there. Signing on with the Art Institute in New Mexico would be a huge change.
She wasn’t meant for love or marriage or relationships—she was too much like her mother.
Sprinkles croaked a bark, announcing their company’s arrival.
“Come on in,” her father called.
“Evening, Carl.” She heard Hunter’s voice and smiled. “What’s cooking? My mouth is watering.”
“Josie’s been in there slaving away.” She heard her father laugh. “Think she still feels guilty for poisoning Sprinkles.”
“Dad!” She rubbed her hands on the front of her apron and walked into the living room.
Hunter, Eli and Dad were waiting. Her father and Hunter were grinning. Eli wasn’t.
“He was funnin’ you, Jo.” Hunter shook his head, a bouquet of flowers in his hand.
“You brought flowers for Sprinkles?” her father asked. “Now, doesn’t that beat all?” He winked at Josie. “Go get a vase, will you, Josie? We can put the flowers on the mantel there, so Sprinkles can see them.”
She shot her father a look. Was he teasing? “Sure.” She turned, heading back into the kitchen.
“I didn’t know I was buying Sprinkles flowers.” Hunter was behind her.
She spun around. “Oh?” He was so tall, so close, so mind-blowingly gorgeous. She stepped back, her hip bouncing against the corner of the kitchen counter.
“I’m a devoted vet and all, but you gotta draw the line somewhere.” His eyes crinkled as he smiled.
“So the flowers were for Dad,” she teased, filling up a cut-glass vase. She took the blooms, clipping the ends off.
“I don’t make a habit of buying flowers for animals or old men.”
She glanced at him, arranging the flowers. “Nice to know Dad’s special, then. Makes sense to me.”
They stared at each other for a long time. She wasn’t sure what to say or do. He was just standing there. Taking up the air in the room. Staring at her, a crooked grin on his face.
“Sprinkles is awake,” her dad announced, followed by the sound of the dog throwing up.
Hunter laughed. “How’s it going?”
“A lot of that.” She nodded in the direction of the living room. “Dad’s been watching her like a hawk.”
“Hello?” Lola’s voice was singsongy. “How are both our patients?”
Josie relaxed.
“Evening, Miss Worley. Can I get that for you?” Eli entered the kitchen carrying a cake plate. Lola followed close behind. She gave everyone a quick hug.
“Mmm, something smells good.” Lola peeked in the stove. “You made fresh rolls, too? What a good little wife you’d make.” She patted Josie’s cheek. “You go on and have fun tonight. Me and the boys here will keep your dad in line.”
Hunter looked at her. “You’re going out?”
She nodded.
“A well-deserved night out.” Lola smiled. “Just point me in the direction of the plates.”
Josie showed Lola around the kitchen and handed off her apron before joining her father in the living room.
“Did you shave?” Josie asked her father. She realized he hadn’t been wearing the plaid button-down shirt an hour ago. His hair had been a little less groomed, too. She leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek. “Aftershave, too.”
Her father turned an adorable shade of red.
She stood, hands on hips. “Promise me you’ll behave. No showing off for Miss Lola. Not tonight, anyway.”
“Joselyn Marie.” Her father scowled up at her.
“Don’t Joselyn Marie me.” She glanced behind her to see Hunter coming from the kitchen, no Eli or Lola in tow. “Thanks for stopping by, Hunter.”
He nodded, his smile tight, eyes burning. Was he mad?
“Need my purse,” she murmured, hurrying into her room. She ran her fingers through her hair, put on some lip gloss and earrings, and
checked her reflection. She grabbed her purse and headed out, dropping another kiss on her father’s head and calling out, “Thanks again, Lola.”
She left through the bakery, catching the door before it slammed. She fumbled with her keys.
“You don’t really have to lock up out here,” Hunter said.
She spun around, dropping the keys. “Habit,” she managed. “Did I get the right baby locks?”
He bent, picking up her keys. He nodded at the toolbox on the porch, then looked at her. The heat in his eyes, the hunger, stole the air from her lungs.
“You need anything? Supplies?” she murmured as his eyes slowly explored the details of her face.
He shook his head, stepping closer and offering her the keys.
She took them, the brush of his fingers against hers stirring a tantalizing awareness along her skin. It wasn’t fair, that he affected her like that. One little touch and she shivered. “It’s cold,” she lied.
His eyebrow arched.
She scowled at him. “Night.” She forced herself to take one step, then another, and another.
“Have a good time tonight, Jo.” His voice was husky.
“Thanks.” She didn’t look back as she headed down the sidewalk to the pool hall on the far side of the square.
* * *
“SO HE’S AT your dad’s house, cleaning up dog throw-up and putting up baby locks, and you’re here with me?” Annabeth took a long swig of her bottle of beer. “What’s wrong with this picture?”
Josie finished off her beer. “Absolutely nothing.”
Annabeth groaned. “You have a warm-blooded man waiting and willing and you’re not tossing his butt into your bed?”
Josie shot Annabeth a look. “Because I’m getting drunk with you.”
“Then let’s go.”
“I can’t.” Josie shook her head, peeling the label off the beer.
“You can, Josie.” Annabeth took a deep breath. “I’m going to say something really harsh here, okay?”
Josie looked at her. “Um, no, thank you.”
“Tough. You’re being ridiculous.” She shook her head, blinking back the tears in her eyes. “Don’t you get it? I’d give anything to have someone to go home to. You’re choosing to be alone when you have this amazing, loyal man—”
“Annabeth.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I am.”
Annabeth patted her hand. “What do you want? Do you know?”
“To get Dad on his feet again—”
Annabeth shook her head. “You? What do you want?”
“I’m not sure.” She swallowed, then leaned forward. “I’m scared. Okay?”
“Please don’t start with that I’m-my-mom crap, okay?”
“Eli hates me.” And it killed her.
“But Hunter doesn’t.” Annabeth’s eyebrows went up. “We went out once, did you know that? We talked about you the whole time. He’s kept up with you, proud of you.” She shook her head. “Whatever. Enough about love and your need to throw it away. I want a man. Can you find me one?”
Josie laughed. “No. Don’t have a lot of single men in my contacts list.”
“Well, that gorgeous Ryder Boone is staring at us. I’m hoping he’s checking me out and not you. That wouldn’t be fair.”
Josie glanced across the room. Sitting at the bar was a way-too-good-looking, smoldering-dark-and-dangerous type watching them.
“He looks annoyed.” Josie tipped her beer back but realized it was empty. “So he’s probably looking at me.”
Annabeth rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. You don’t annoy Hunter.”
“You’re right. Annoy isn’t the right word.”
“Arouse? Turn on?” Annabeth teased. “He just wants to jump your bones and make lots of babies with you.”
“He does not,” Josie argued, laughing. “Stop.”
“What? What’s wrong with intimacy? Seriously, Josie, you can’t tell me you don’t miss sex.”
Josie leaned forward. “I didn’t say I didn’t, but—”
“So do it, have sex. Forget about the whole emotional baggage and focus on lots of good old wear-you-out, leave-you-smiling, rock-your-world, wake-your-neighbors sex.”
“I’ll drink to that.” Ryder appeared, putting new beers on the table in front of them and making them both jump.
Josie stared at him. “God, Ryder, you’re all grown-up—”
“And hot,” Annabeth added. “I said that out loud, didn’t I?”
Ryder looked at Annabeth, his heavy-lidded pale blue eyes smoldering. “I’ll drink to that, too.” He tipped his longneck, clinking it with Annabeth’s.
“Please.” Annabeth giggled, then rolled her eyes.
“Good to see you, Josie.” Ryder was looking at her again. “Thought I’d get you ladies another round before heading out.”
“Oh,” Josie said. “Well, thanks for the beer.”
“Thanks for the laugh.” He smiled at her. “And have fun.” He glanced at Annabeth. “You’ve got my number.” He nodded at them both and made his way out of Shots.
Once he was gone, they both burst out laughing.
“I know I don’t have the best field record at dating, but I think that was a not-so-subtle cue for you to call the bad-boy Boone.”
Josie couldn’t help but notice the very thoughtful way Annabeth watched Ryder Boone climb on his motorcycle.
* * *
HUNTER SAT ON one of the rocking chairs on the front porch. He should go. Everything was done.
Sprinkles was doing better, but the diapers weren’t ready to come off. The baby locks were installed and his tools packed away. While he’d worked on that, Eli and Lola had made a fridge full of gingerbread dough. Once Lola had retreated to a recliner to knit, he’d called Fisher to take Eli home. Lola dozed in the living room with Carl, so he managed to make a few more batches of gingerbread. Then cleaned up the kitchen.
When Lola walked out, she smiled down at him and patted his arm. “She’s a good girl.”
He didn’t have a thing to say to that. He couldn’t deny he was waiting around for Jo. He was.
“Walk an old lady home?” she asked.
He helped her into her coat and took her arm.
“Look at that moon.” Lola pointed up at the low-hanging full moon. “Isn’t it lovely?”
“Yes, ma’am.” It was a gorgeous night. And there was nothing quite like seeing the town square and courthouse all lit up with Christmas lights. All the trees surrounding the courthouse were wrapped with thousands and thousands of lights. Even to his eye, it looked magical. “I love this time of year.”
“Me, too, Hunter.” She peered up at him. “What do you want for Christmas this year?”
He laughed, taking her keys and unlocking her door. “I’m too old for that, Miss Lola.”
“Nonsense, Hunter. You’re never too old for wishing. I’ve got one or two things on my list, but I’m not telling.” She patted his arm again. “Thanks for the walk.”
“Thanks for all your work.”
“Josie needed a night out.” Lola smiled. “Guess it’s no secret I’m fond of that Carl Stephens.” She waved, pulling her door shut.
Hunter set off back down the street to the bakery when he saw Josie. She lay on her back, sprawled out on the lawn of the courthouse. He didn’t think—he ran. When he reached her side, he dropped to his knees.
She looked surprised. “Hunter?”
“What the hell are you doing, Jo?” he asked, his panic quickly replaced by irritation.
“I’m looking at the lights. All the colors. It’s like a giant Christmas kaleidoscope.” She patted the grass beside her. “Lie down, you’ll see what I mean.”
He shook his head but couldn’t deny the smile tugging at his lips. “Are you drunk?”
“Maybe. A little.” She giggled.
“It’s forty degrees. Too cold for relaxing outside,” he argued. “Where’s your coat?”
She sighed. “Are you going to lie do
wn or not? You’re blocking part of my view.”
He stared down at her. Her cheeks were red, her breath coming in puffs from the crisp air. Beneath the thousands and thousands of lights, her hair seemed to glow a warm and inviting red. She seemed to glow, so alive, so soft. It took everything he had not to touch her.
Instead, he flopped down on his back at her side.
“It’s cold,” he said.
“Hush. Open your eyes and stare straight up.” Her voice was soft, almost a whisper. “See how the colored strands on the street shops bleed in around the edges of your vision?”
He stared up.
“Can you see it?” she asked, her hand nudging his.
Her fingers were icy cold, so he took her hand in his. He didn’t look at her or acknowledge that his heart was thumping. He held her hand and stared at the lights. And the colors seemed to bloom around the edges. “I see it.”
Her hand squeezed his. “Isn’t it amazing?”
“Yeah.”
They were silent for a while. Nothing but the sound of the wind through the trees, the slight clicking of the bouncing strands of lights. He could think of nothing sweeter than staying right here, touching her. But each gust of cold made it harder and harder for him to ignore she wasn’t wearing a jacket. And it was only getting colder.
“Jo?” he whispered.
“Hmm?”
He turned his head and smiled. Her eyes were shut. Long lashes rested against her smooth skin. Her mouth was parted slightly, releasing a regular cloud of breath into the chilly night. “You still looking at the lights?”
Her eyes popped open. She blinked, then turned to face him.
He reached up, smoothing a curl from her face. “It’s late.”
She nodded, her hand tightening on his.
“Can I walk you home?” he asked.
She nodded again.
He stood, keeping her hand in his to pull her up. She didn’t sway into him and he didn’t pull her into his arms, no matter how much he wanted to. Instead, he took one of her hands, rubbing it briskly between his. “Your hands are ice cubes.”
She was staring at their hands, but he saw her shiver. “Let’s get you home.” He led her to the sidewalk.
“It’s snowing.” She grabbed his arm with her free hand, tugging. “Look.”
A Cowboy's Christmas Reunion (Mills & Boon Cherish) (The Boones of Texas, Book 1) Page 6
