A Cowboy's Christmas Reunion (Mills & Boon Cherish) (The Boones of Texas, Book 1)

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A Cowboy's Christmas Reunion (Mills & Boon Cherish) (The Boones of Texas, Book 1) Page 16

by Sasha Summers


  “She said you got her the job,” Josie whispered.

  His eyes narrowed, his brow furrowing deeply. When she slipped from his hold, he didn’t stop her. But she noticed the way his jaw muscle ticked as she met his gaze in the mirror. “You think I got her the job?” he asked.

  She picked up a clip, fiddling with the clasp. “It made sense. She’s family. You help your family out—”

  “I found out she was working there today.” He came up behind her, slipping his arms around her waist and pulling her against his chest. He spoke clearly, leaving no room for interpretation, “I didn’t help her get the job, Jo. And while it’s generous of you to think I’d be that self-sacrificing, I’m not. I might help her get a job, in Houston or Amarillo. But not here, not now.”

  “Oh.” She couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across her face.

  “Oh?” He laughed, spinning her around and pulling her against him. His face grew earnest and real and so damn gorgeous her heart was on the verge of bursting from her chest. His kiss was featherlight, but his words made her light-headed. “I love you, Jo. I’m doing my best not to screw things up here.”

  She blinked. He said it. He loved her.

  “Come on.” He glanced at his watch. “We’re late. Any later and people will talk.” His kiss was deep, leaving her heart and body spinning.

  “Because we’re late?” she asked, still processing.

  He smiled, stroking his fingertips over her cheek. “You don’t know what you want yet—I get that.” His voice faltered. “Until you do, I’d rather keep things a little discreet.” He kissed her forehead, sighing. “That way it’ll be easier for Eli, your dad and me if you go. We’ll still be here, you know?”

  He wasn’t embarrassed or ashamed—he was protecting her, protecting her father and his son. And she loved him all the more for it. She should tell him. She should say it. But a flash of Eli, of Amy’s smug grin and the agony of losing Hunter silenced her.

  “I need five minutes,” she pleaded, pointing to the makeup.

  “You don’t need it.” He shook his head but gave her enough time to put on some mascara, a little eye shadow and some bright red holiday-cheer lipstick.

  “Ready?” He took her in, head to toe, before shaking his head. “I’m fine being late, Jo.” He pulled her close, bending forward to kiss her.

  She laughed, covering his lips with her fingers. “I’m ready.”

  He pressed a kiss to her fingers, sighing dramatically. “Fine.”

  She shook her head but took the hand he offered her. “How’s Mars?” she asked as they put on their coats and headed out of the bakery.

  “She’s good, taking a few steps. Her pups are a handful, so we’re not letting them nurse all the time. Their poor mama needs time to recover.” He paused. “Owners offered me a pup and I’m thinking about giving one to my dad.” Hunter led her around the corner.

  “Wow,” she said finally, looking at all the floats, the lights, the carolers, the canopies that dotted the courthouse lawn. The air hummed with excitement, warding off some of the night chill. “Was it this big when we were in high school?”

  “Gets bigger every year. Good to see you, Lance.” Hunter nodded at someone but kept them moving.

  She called out “hellos” and “nice to see yous” as Hunter led them around another corner. Their float was waiting, hooked up to a large hunter green truck with Boone Ranch and Rehabilitation Reserve on the doors. The younger kids were all giggling and playing tag while the older kids were checking the garland and float decorations.

  “They’re here,” someone called out. All the kids waved.

  Hunter waved back, giving her a quick grin over his shoulder.

  “They wanted to send out a search party,” Fisher whispered to Hunter as they walked up. “I figured that might not be the best idea. Didn’t want them to find you two in a compromising situation. Might scar them for life.”

  Hunter punched him in the shoulder. “Got sidetracked with—”

  Fisher held up his hands. “Don’t need or want to know.”

  Josie couldn’t help but notice Eli. The boy looked so downtrodden, she wanted to hug him. But since she was probably the reason he was upset, she should keep her hugs to herself. His one long, lingering glance at Dara spoke volumes, though.

  “Hey, Miss Josie.” Dara was red-cheeked and excited, her green sparkly Santa hat and mittens only adding to her adorableness. “Your chair is nice and secure. I rode on it here, just to make sure.”

  “Thanks, Dara.” Josie hugged the girl, surveying the float. It looked even better now, the fairy-light glow illuminating the hours of work the kids had put into making 34 and Floppy Feet come to life. “It’s just amazing. You guys did a really incredible job.” She spoke to Eli, too, who was circling the perimeter of the trailer to check that the garlands and lights were secure.

  Eli looked at her, then Dara, shoved his hands in his pockets and mumbled, “Guess so.” His attention wandered back to Dara, but the girl was making a point of ignoring him.

  Josie didn’t know what to say, or do. Young love could seriously suck.

  “Are you Joselyn Stephens?” A man approached, his smile a little too appreciative.

  She didn’t recognize him. “Yes.”

  “Renata Boone suggested I interview you for the piece we’re putting together on the best undiscovered small towns of Texas.” He held his hand out. “Ray Garza, State Tourism Department.”

  “Nice to meet you.” Josie shook his hand.

  “Would you be free after the parade? We’ll be set up by the stage to get some shots for the special.” His smile grew. “I’ll find you a cup of hot chocolate and let you show me around.”

  Josie glanced at Hunter, who was watching with interest. “Renata would be better suited for showing you around, Mr. Garza.”

  “Call me Ray.” His smile might be charming, but the way he looked her up and down made her skin crawl.

  “Ray.” She didn’t smile in return. “I’m not sure there’s much I can say to sell Stonewall Crossing. It sort of speaks for itself.”

  “I’d like to hear a little more about what you mean by that.” There it was again, that sweeping, slightly-too-lascivious-to-be-ignored appraisal of her figure. He was far too interested in her chest. “We’ll meet you by the stage, with hot chocolate, after the parade, then.”

  Hunter took her hand in his. “You ready, Miss Celebrity?” He shot Ray Garza a look—a look that spoke volumes. She loved that look.

  “I guess so.” She took his hand and stepped up onto the float. “I’m happy to chat with you for a bit right after the parade, Mr. Garza.”

  Ray Garza shook his head. “I won’t take up much time, I promise. Tonight’s about spending time with family.” Ray Garza nodded at Hunter, then her, and headed to the small stage where the parade judges were seated, smack-dab in the middle of the square.

  “You need an escort for that interview?” Hunter asked, watching Ray Garza go.

  She chuckled, leaning over the side of the trailer. “Jealous, Dr. Boone? Don’t you know I prefer my men in white coats?”

  Hunter looked up at her, tipping his hat back. “I recall hearing something along those lines.”

  If he kept smiling at her like that, she’d kiss him—no matter who was watching.

  He winked at her and stepped back, helping the younger kids climb aboard. She watched his every move, the way he swung each kid high, giving them a word or smile of encouragement. He knew them all, cared about them, about this. This was his home, a place as ingrained in his blood as the color of his incredible eyes.

  She’d never felt that way about a place. But something about the camaraderie and affection among this bunch made her rethink, again, the value in her solitary life.

  Hunter’s voice was stern as he called out, “Remember the rules.” He paused, making certain all eyes were on him before he continued. “No standing up, no moving around and no horseplay. Your job is to sta
y safe, sit on your hay bale and wave like crazy at all the people. And don’t forget to yell out ‘Merry Christmas’ now and then. Got it?”

  A dozen hat-and-scarf-clad heads nodded. There was something poignant about their red noses, bright eyes and on-the-verge-of-bursting-with-excitement energy. The mood was contagious. Josie sat in the chair, tucking her hands under her legs. It was cold and, in their haste, she’d forgotten her gloves.

  “Miss Stephens?” The little girl had red braids peeking out from under her hat and a smattering of freckles across her nose. “Are you really going to read to us? Floppy Feet is my favorite. I have two rabbits that look just like the ones in your book.”

  “You do?” Josie asked, a sudden warmth chasing away the cold. “What are their names?”

  “Floppy and Jack,” the little girl answered.

  Josie laughed. “Those are great names.” She took the book Eli thrust in her face. It was old, the paper jacket creased and worn. There was a faint ring on the back cover, where someone had probably put their iced tea or coffee cup. “Thanks, Eli.” She glanced at the boy, wishing he’d give some sort of acknowledgment that she existed. She wanted to ask if this was his copy, the one Hunter and Fisher had read to him when he was little. But the words got stuck in her throat.

  He looked at her then, searching her face for one long moment. He swallowed so hard she knew he was holding something back.

  “Thank you,” Josie repeated, feeling the all-too-familiar sting in her eyes.

  “Come on, Eli.” Hunter waved his son to the side of the trailer. “Your job is to keep an eye on the little ones,” he said to Eli, Dara and four older teenagers who were helping corral the youngsters. Hunter shot her one more smile before climbing into the truck cab.

  When the truck pulled forward, the kids squealed with glee. Josie beamed, glancing around the trailer at each little face. The teenagers were smiling, too. Even Eli. Until he saw her smiling at him.

  * * *

  HUNTER NODDED AT the thumbs-up in his side mirror from Eli. Some garland had fallen loose as they cleared the last stretch of road, but everything was secure again.

  “Can you go any slower?” Fisher asked as they scooted an inch forward.

  “Got a hot date I don’t know about?” Hunter glanced at his brother.

  “No. But we might just get the kids back to their folks before midnight,” his brother shot back.

  “I guess a little thing like the twenty kids on the flatbed trailer we’re pulling shouldn’t matter?” Hunter glanced at the clock on his dashboard. “For the record, it’s nine-fifteen.”

  Fisher snorted. “Look who’s all feisty tonight.”

  Hunter grinned.

  The parade had gone well. No one had fallen out or pitched a fit. The lights and music had stayed on. And, from what he could tell, everyone had enjoyed their turn around the square.

  As he pulled the truck and trailer into the large parking lot behind the senior center, he saw the sea of parents and cars waiting for their kids. He edged forward slowly, making sure they weren’t hanging out onto the street, and parked.

  He was cordial to the waiting parents, smiling and shaking hands and enjoying the overall success of the evening. But inside, he felt like a teenager again. A teenager who wanted, more than anything, to get Jo, take her hand in his and savor the rest of the night together.

  He caught a look at her, all red-cheeked and wild curls. She was still sitting in her chair, a little girl on her lap. The two of them were reading Floppy Feet, so engrossed in the story that neither seemed aware of what was happening around them.

  “Kelsey,” the little girl’s mother finally said. “I imagine Miss Stephens is ready to get out of this cold.”

  “Aw, Momma.” Kelsey frowned.

  “I’ll read the book to you tonight,” her mother coerced.

  Kelsey wriggled from Jo’s lap, shooting Jo one big gap-toothed grin before running over to Hunter. “Thanks for letting me ride.”

  “Hope you had fun.”

  She nodded, wrapping her arms around her mother’s neck.

  He looked at Jo, the yearning on her face as she watched Kelsey and her mother startling him. She caught him staring and rolled her eyes. Damn, but she was beautiful.

  “What can I do?” she asked, nodding at Eli, Dara and Tyler. They were already uncoiling the lights and garlands, making neat coils and stacking them aside.

  “They’ll get most of it. So nothing flies off on the way back to the ranch.” He waved at the older teens working. “You can keep an eye on the two strays,” he teased, nodding at two little boys hopping from hale bale to hay bale around the trailer’s edge.

  He turned to Jo. “Once they’re back with their herd, I’ll get you to your interview.” If she left, tonight would be one of those memories that he held on to for years to come. It wasn’t just the sex, though sex with Jo was truly special—it was the intimacy they shared, the connection. He’d be damned if he let her go without a fight.

  “What’s that look for?” she asked, her pale eyes studying him.

  He shook his head, knowing this wasn’t the time or place to make his case. “I’ll tell you later.”

  “Dr. Boone, this is hardly the time or place for your wayward thoughts.”

  “Wayward thoughts?” He bent forward. “What did you think I was thinking about?”

  She blushed, swallowing.

  Every inch of him hardened. “You can tell me about it later.” His whisper was rough.

  “Dad,” Eli called out. “This tire looks low.”

  It tore his heart out to see the smile Jo gave his son. Eli didn’t smile back but, for the first time, he didn’t glare at her, either. For Hunter, it was progress. Jo clearly didn’t see it that way.

  “Duty calls.” He excused himself. Eli was right. They’d have to air up the tire before they made the drive back to the ranch. “Good catch,” he said, ruffling his son’s hair.

  Eli groaned, but Dara’s soft laugh turned Eli’s frown into a grin.

  Hunter glanced back and forth between his son and Dara. She’d gone back to working on the trailer while Eli stood staring at her. Hunter nudged him, gently, before heading back to Jo, the boys and their newly arrived parents.

  He was shaking hands with the boys’ fathers when Amy arrived. He barely managed to keep his face neutral. Last thing he needed to do was make things worse with Eli. His son was barely speaking to him as it was.

  “That was adorable, ya’ll,” Amy cooed. “Eli, honey, I think it’s the best float yet.”

  “Thanks, Mom,” Eli murmured. Hunter watched him blush as Amy draped an arm around his shoulders. “I didn’t do it on my own.” Eli glanced around. He might not be as grown-up as the others, but he hated being treated like a child. Especially in public.

  “I know.” Amy’s brown eyes paused on him for a split second before she turned to Jo. Hunter braced himself as Amy said, “You must be tickled pink to have a whole float dedicated to you, Josie.” She paused. “I mean, your books.”

  Hunter fought to keep his reactions in check. Amy was a master at manipulation, charming and soft-spoken one minute, ripping out the jugular the next. Not that Amy would ever let that side of her show—not with her son at her side. She needed him to think the best of her. It was one of the only things that assured she’d behave in public.

  Jo looked lost, her gaze bouncing between Amy, Eli and himself. “It’s amazing,” she finally said. “These kids are—”

  “Amazing?” Amy’s teasing was infused with a healthy dose of sarcasm, sarcasm neither he nor Jo missed.

  Jo nodded, not taking the bait.

  He held out his hand, helping Jo from the trailer. When her feet were on the ground, she pulled her hand from his, barely meeting his eyes. “I think I’ll go meet with Mr. Garza now.” Her voice was thin, tentative.

  He nodded even though he wanted to grab her hand and keep her at his side. “I’ll catch up to you in a bit,” he offered, wishing he co
uld say more. Instead, he watched her walk back to the main square, her hands stuffed deep in her coat pockets.

  “Sounds like you’ve got plans.” Amy looked at him, eyes narrowed. “So I guess I can steal our son?” She turned to Eli. “You done for the night?”

  “I guess.” Eli shrugged. “I was gonna hang around for a while.”

  Hunter didn’t miss his son’s quick glance at Dara. But Amy was oblivious.

  “You can hang out with them anytime.” Amy tucked her arm through Eli’s. “How long has it been since we had a sleepover, anyway?”

  “Where?” Hunter asked, leaden concern filling his belly.

  “My hotel.” Amy smiled. “I haven’t found a real place to rent...yet. I’m staying at the Main Street Hotel. And there’s two beds and cable,” she added. “We can get a pizza or something, whatever you want.”

  Hunter watched Eli’s every reaction. His son was uncertain, which Hunter understood. He had a tough choice to make. He could keep Eli from spending the night with Amy, but then he’d ensure Amy was the victim and Eli her defender.

  His son looked at him, bracing for a fight.

  Hunter didn’t fist his hands or clench his jaw or bite out, “Your call,” no matter how much he wanted to. Instead, he managed to keep it together, staying neutral and calm.

  Which didn’t sit well with Eli. “Thanks, Mom. If you’re sure you don’t have any plans. Wouldn’t want to get in the way.” Eli shoved his hands in his pockets, staring at the ground at his feet.

  “Eli.” Hunter’s voice was low. “You’re never in the way, ever.”

  Amy glared at Hunter, the look on her face a visible replay of the argument they’d had on his porch the week before.

  “Yeah, sure.” Eli’s tone sharpened, and he outright scowled as he added, “You have fun tonight.”

  Hunter could tell Eli to get his butt in the truck—his every instinct told him to do just that. He could drive his son home and the two of them could have another fight over Jo and Amy. But then he’d end up with a son who hated him, an all but sainted ex-wife, no Jo and no closer to resolution on any account. And, no matter how impossible it seemed right this second, he wanted the best possible outcome for everyone.

 

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