Chasing Christmas: (Sweet Holiday Western Romance) (Rodeo Romance Book 5)

by Shanna Hatfield

  “Agreed,” he said in a tight voice. They remained silent as Chase worked to swallow down his discomfort.

  She took the warm washcloth back to the bathroom and rinsed it in cold water. When she returned to his side and placed it on his bruise, she could tell exhaustion had kicked in. He’d relaxed his tense posture and his eyes appeared drowsy.

  “I’ll see you in the morning, Chase. Sleep well, and welcome home.”

  “Thanks, Jessie. It’s nice to be home.” He smiled as she backed toward the door. “What was it you came in here for? Did you have a question?”

  “Oh, it was nothing. Good night.” Jessie stepped into the hall and shut Chase’s bedroom door behind her. She leaned against it until she was sure her wobbly knees would carry her upstairs to her room.

  How was she supposed to be able to keep her thoughts straight when the handsome cowboy she married grew more appealing and irresistible by the minute?

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chase spent the morning with Lucas and Lori, going over every detail of the ranch. He devoted an hour to observing his bulls then rode out on Dustup to check on the spring calves. Beautiful bovine babies romped in the pasture, making him smile.

  He took the horse on a long ride around the edge of the property before returning to the barn a few minutes before noon.

  Lucas extended an invitation for lunch that Chase turned down. It was ten kinds of stupid on his part to spend time around Jessie, but he couldn’t stay away from her.

  Last night, when she’d tapped on his bedroom door and stepped inside, Chase had wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and never let her go.

  The way she kept looking at him, with a mixture of awe, admiration, and desire, made his blood run so hot, it was a miracle he hadn’t spontaneously combusted.

  When she’d awkwardly asked if he’d been running around on her, he felt insulted and disappointed. Then again, she didn’t know him well enough to understand he wasn’t a one-night stand kind of guy. The reputation his cousin so diligently crafted might state otherwise, but Chase had no interest in a meaningless fling, or dozens of them.

  However, the last thing he would have expected from Jessie was a jealous streak. Clearly, though, she had one. If Jessie knew how many propositions from zealous women he’d turned down, even after explaining he was married, she’d no doubt turn green with envy or a livid shade of red with anger.

  He’d never have guessed his wife to be the jealous type, but he felt flattered she was. Maybe she liked him more than she was willing to admit. Or he was willing to see.

  Exactly why that mattered to him wasn’t something he cared to consider. Instead, he tossed aside the little voice in his head warning him not to get involved with Jessie and hurried into the house for lunch.

  After leaving his boots and hat in the mudroom, he stepped into the kitchen. The smell of paint assaulted his nose rather than the aroma of something delicious cooking.

  He followed the smell into the hall and made his way to the front entry where Jessie painted the entry wall. Rock tunes from the eighties blasted from her cell phone as she rolled paint in time to the beat.

  When she bent over to add more paint to the roller and wiggled her backside in a little dance step, Chase shoved his hands into his pockets to keep from reaching out and playfully slapping her bottom.

  “Hey, darlin’! What have you got going on?” he asked, surprised to find her painting. He assumed she was finished with whatever it was she wanted to do to decorate the house before the reporter and photographer from Rodeo At Home arrived next week.

  “Oh!” she squeaked, caught off guard by his sudden appearance behind her. She spun around, dropping the paint roller into the drip pan and splashing it all over her legs and shoes. Thankfully, she’d covered the floor with a drip cloth, so the only damage was to her clothes.

  Chase swallowed back a laugh as she tripped over a paint can and a bucket with brushes. She would have fallen if he hadn’t wrapped a hand around her waist, holding her upright.

  “Steady,” he said.

  She took a step back and reached up to push a lock of hair out of her eyes, then thought better of it as paint dripped off her hand.

  He bent down and retrieved a paint rag then handed it to her. She snapped it out of his grasp, clearly flustered by his presence.

  “I thought you were finished painting,” he said, forcing his focus to the wall she was painting. The electric blue shirt she wore accented the rich color of her eyes along with the sparks firing from them. He took in the frayed edges of the shirt, the holes and paint on her jeans, and the ratty sneakers that had a knot in one shoelace holding it together. Evidently, she’d packed work clothes when she upended her life and moved to the ranch.

  “I’m not even close to finished painting. I had to wait until it was warm enough to have the windows open to chase away the worst of the paint fumes. It’s only been in the last week or so that the temperatures warmed up and the snow completely melted.”

  “Yeah, Lucas said it was one of the worst winters on record around here.” Chase took a step back and studied the soft gray color on the wall. “What’s this color?”

  Jessie mopped at the paint pooled on top of her shoes then glanced up at him. “Elephant’s Breath.”

  He cocked one eyebrow to see if she was serious or teasing. “You’re making that up.”

  “Am not. If you don’t believe me, look at the paint card taped to the top of the paint can lid.”

  Chase picked up the lid and read the card then glanced over at Jessie. “What possessed you to pick a color with such a strange name? Elephant’s Breath? Seriously, who comes up with this stuff?”

  She shrugged and dropped the rag beside the drip pan and picked up the roller. “I don’t know, but I thought the color would look nice.” With a smooth motion, she rolled paint on the wall then glanced over at Chase. “I planned to be finished with this before lunch. If you give me twenty minutes, I should have this little project completed.”

  “I’ll help you,” he said, reaching for a brush.

  Jessie gave him a nudge with her hip, bumping him out of her way. “No need for both of us to end up all covered in paint. If you’re hungry right now, there are leftovers from dinner last night, or we could have sandwiches.”

  “Even I’m capable of making sandwiches. Why don’t I do that, if you’re sure you don’t want me to help?” Absently, he tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, letting his thumb trail across her cheek and down her jaw.

  She closed her eyes and sucked in a ragged breath before pulling away from him. “A sandwich would be great. Thanks.” With that, she turned her back to him and focused on painting.

  Amused by how easily he could ruffle her feathers, Chase wondered what other sorts of mischief he could get into before he flew back to Texas.

  The night before the reporter and photographer were due to arrive, Chase returned to the house just before dusk. Jessie wasn’t in the kitchen and the house seemed oddly quiet, but he was tired and dirty. On the way to his room to clean up, he poked his head in the office to see if she was there working on a design project, but the room was empty.

  He’d discovered the woman was in constant motion from the moment she rose in the morning until she went to bed at night. In between cooking for him and turning his house into a home, she worked her design business. He’d talked her into showing him samples of the artwork she’d done for the Lasso Eight campaign. Her creativity and ability to carry out the company’s vision left him impressed.

  If Chase held any interest in having a real wife, Jessie would have been perfect. She had a rural background and knew about crops and cattle. She could fix fence, ride a horse, milk a cow, and muck out stalls. In the short time she’d been at the ranch, she’d managed to make it feel less like a house and much more like a welcoming home, a place he wanted to stay and set down roots.

  The meals she made were delicious, even if he’d grown tired of eating hate
you bread. After three days of eating the bread, he’d found the starter and tossed it in the garbage. Half expecting Jessie to be upset about it, she only looked relieved to discover it gone.

  Jessie was easy to talk to and a great listener. She tended to be quiet a lot of the time, but he’d learned it didn’t mean something was wrong. The times she was the quietest were the times her mind churned with thoughts and creative ideas. He recalled someone once saying something about silent waters running the deepest. At the time, he hadn’t fully understood what that meant, but he did now.

  Jessie might not talk all the time or feel the need to be the center of attention, but it didn’t mean people should discount her. The more she got to know him, the more comfortable she was around him, and the more he realized she had plenty to say. She told him just that morning that she had a hard time trusting people and guarded her thoughts and herself until people earned her trust.

  Uncertain how long it would take or what he would have to do before she fully trusted him, Chase couldn’t help but wonder in her moments of silence what flew through her head. Sometimes she seemed burdened and sad, as though she carried the weight of the world. Other times, she’d appear focused and intense then would jot down notes of inspired creativity. A few times, he caught her with a dreamy, lost look on her face. When he asked what she was thinking, her cheeks turned pink and she refused to tell him.

  With a healthy ego, he couldn’t help but hope in those times she might have been dreaming about him.

  As he discarded his dirty, dusty clothes and stepped into his shower, he wondered what Jessie would do if he marched up to her room and told her he had feelings for her. Feelings he found harder and harder to ignore.

  He knew it was crazy. The last thing either of them needed was the entanglement of a relationship, but convincing his heart of what his head already knew seemed like a futile effort at best.

  After drying off and dressing in a T-shirt and clean pair of jeans, he wandered back into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of tea. Once Jessie discovered he preferred iced tea to soda, especially if it was sweet tea, she made sure to keep a pitcher of it in the fridge.

  Chase took a long drink then helped himself to a cookie from the pink Depression glass jar on the counter. He wondered if it belonged to Jessie or she’d bought it somewhere. He liked that she favored a mix of old and new rather than wanting a sleek, modern environment. When she first started texting him ideas for decorating the house, he’d glanced at a few photos and told her to do whatever she liked, that he trusted her. Then she’d asked him to set a budget and he again told her he trusted her. So far, she’d spent a thousand bucks and to him, what she’d done was worth every penny.

  Of course, he’d invited the McGraw and Morgan families for a steak dinner one night to pay them back for their help. Jessie had made all the side dishes, salad, and dessert, while he grilled thick steaks to perfection.

  Poor Kenzie seemed miserable as she waddled from one chair to another while Tate hovered around her. Chase wondered if he’d be so overprotective when his wife was expecting.

  The idea of having a baby drew his thoughts back around to Jessie. He pondered, again, that if he really wanted a wife, she would be the perfect candidate. She was smart, funny, hardworking, kind, gentle, and so sweet. There were times he looked at her and his heart just ached at how much he wanted to know about her, how hard it would be to tell her goodbye in December. Although some men wouldn’t find her beautiful because she didn’t bother with a bunch of makeup, her fresh face always looked lovely to him.

  A glance on the kitchen wall confirmed it was too early for her to have gone to bed, so Chase wondered if she decided to watch a movie. He’d only seen her in the media room once. That was because he’d been laughing so hard at a comedy he was watching, curiosity had driven her to the door and he’d insisted she stay.

  He didn’t find her in the media room, so he made his way down the hall to the gathering room. It was empty, so he turned into the hall and noticed she’d finished decorating the wall above the entry table. Metal stars of various sizes hung on the wall, surrounding script words that said, “Bless this home and all who enter here.”

  Pleased with the words and the effort she’d put into updating the entry to make it more welcoming, he glanced down to see she’d left the doormat Granny had sent. He grinned and started to go up the stairs when movement on the porch caught his eye through the narrow window next to the door.

  Jessie sat on a porch swing he’d installed a few days ago with her feet tucked under her and the fleece blanket he’d given to her for Christmas draped across her lap. The last rays of sunshine bathed her in an amber glow, turning her skin a gorgeous golden hue, while her cat curled up beside her, asleep.

  The scene was serene, so full of all the things Chase had always longed to have in his life. He stood and watched her for several moments before opening the door and stepping outside.

  Jessie smiled at him as the screen door slapped shut and he took a seat in a wicker chair. He stretched out his legs, breathing in the fresh evening air. It smelled of loamy earth blended with the unique rose and vanilla fragrance of his wife — heady and intoxicating.

  “What are you doing out here, darlin’?” He battled the urge to scoop her into his arms and revel in the wonder he knew he’d find there.

  “Just admiring the sunset.” She pointed to the colorful streaks blazing across the horizon. “Doesn’t the sky look like denim and peaches?”

  Chase forced his gaze from the look of wonder on her face to the scene before him. He’d never have described the sunset in those terms, or even thought of them as such, but it was an accurate description. Shades of blue, dark and intense fading to paler tones, blended with soft orange and coral hues that did in fact look like denim and peaches.

  He observed the contrasting colors, the artistry rendered by his Creator, and experienced a feeling of awe.

  Finally, he turned to Jessie and shook his head. “No wonder you are so good at what you do. I bet no one else on the planet would sit here and say the sky looked like denim and peaches, which is a spot-on description, by the way.”

  She blushed, as he knew she would, and rubbed her hand over the cat’s back. Loud purring from the feline drew out Chase’s smile.

  Jessie lifted her head and met his gaze. “Thank you. It’s a spectacular sunset. You probably think I’m a complete dork.”

  “Not at all, Jess. I think you’re amazing and incredibly smart. In fact, I bet if you shared even half the fantastic thoughts and ideas rolling through that pretty head of yours, I’d end up looking like a dumb ol’ country boy.”

  “Hardly,” she said with a giggle. “Beach bums like you don’t qualify for country boy status.”

  “Is that so?” he asked, rising from the chair. He sat down beside her then slipped his hands beneath the blanket, trying to tickle her. She laughed and squirmed, no longer worried about pretending she wasn’t ticklish.

  The cat meowed once, glared at Chase, then jumped off the swing and marched toward Lucas and Lori’s house.

  “I guess he told you,” Jessie said between gasps and giggles as Chase switched tactics and tickled her foot.

  She stretched her leg out of his reach so he lifted her onto his lap.

  Suddenly, her giggles faded and his fingers went from trying to tickle her sides to caressing them. Her eyes widened in response as his temperature kicked up a few notches.

  “Jess,” he said in a low voice, one so husky he barely recognized it.

  Desperate to know her, to touch her, to love her, his hands slipped inside her shirt and rested against her warm, smooth skin.

  She sucked in a gulp of air right before he captured her mouth with his. The taste of her, the sweet, luscious flavor of her mouth had haunted him from the first time they’d kissed. Chase had an idea he’d never fully get it out of his system if he lived to be a hundred.

  More concerned about the here and now than his future, h
e pulled her close against him and kissed her again, pouring out the yearnings of his heart even if he refused to acknowledge them, to give voice to his feelings.

  Finally, Jessie drew back. “I better go in,” she said, trying to rise to her feet, tangled in the blanket and Chase’s arms.

  The last thing he wanted was to let her go, but he had no right to hold her, even if she was his wife.

  He released her and pulled aside the blanket. Jessie rose to her feet then hid a smile when cat hair floated around Chase and he sneezed several times.

  “Nice of Tinpin to leave behind a little something for me,” he said, dropping the blanket and brushing at his nose.

  “Tinsel really does like you. If he didn’t, you’d never see him at all.” Jessie opened the screen door and pushed the heavy wooden door open. Chase walked in behind her and sneezed three more times.

  “What about his owner? Does she like me, too?” Chase asked, unable to keep from settling his hands on her waist and drawing her back against his chest.

  She glanced over her shoulder at him and the look in her eyes was almost more than he could handle. “Yeah, she does, even if she doesn’t make you sneeze.”

  Jessie jumped away from him and ran down the hall while Chase sneezed half a dozen more times.

  Even though he’d have to take another shower to stop sneezing and pop a few allergy pills, it was worth it to spend a few stolen moments with his wife.

  Chapter Seventeen

  If Chase spent even another hour around Jessie, he couldn’t and wouldn’t be held responsible for his actions.

  Between her alluring scent, the tight-fitting jeans she wore with a pair of boots he’d not yet seen, and the inviting gazes she tossed his way throughout the interview with Rodeo at Home magazine, he’d been so disconcerted he could hardly concentrate on the questions the reporter continued to toss at him. By some miracle, they made it through the photo shoot without him ravaging his wife with kisses.