Home for Christmas

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Home for Christmas Page 8

by Melissa McClone


  "The Ghost of Christmas Present is the realist. That's me." Ty grabbed a beer out of the fridge, removed the cap, then took a pull. "Looking back won't change what happened yesterday. Who knows what will happen tomorrow? The best thing is to concentrate on right now. We're going to have an amazing Christmas together."

  "It's going to be great," Rachel agreed.

  Ty's eyes turned serious. "Montana starting to grow on you?"

  "It's hard not to get caught up in the Christmas spirit," she admitted. "The snow, the people. What's not to like?"

  Ty's gaze met Nate's.

  Rachel looked at her brother. "What? I thought you wanted me to like it here and would be happy."

  Ty's smile lit up his face. "I am very happy."

  "Why don't you two watch the movie with me?" Nate asked. "I need someone to make beer runs to the kitchen during commercials."

  "No explosions. No hot women. No sex. I'll pass." Ty picked up the thermoses and plastic container. "But Rachel loves the movie. She'll keep you company and be your runner."

  Nate looked at her with hope in his eyes. "Will you?"

  "You could learn a lesson here, big brother. Nate lets me decide for myself."

  Ty shrugged. "Your answer's still going to be a yes."

  "True. It's one of my favorite holiday films." The way he kept weight off his foot bothered Rachel. So did the bruise. Someone needed to stay with him and make sure he was okay. That duty fell to her tonight, and she didn't mind one bit. "I'll make the popcorn and be right in."

  Nate glanced at the clock on the microwave. "The movie starts in ten minutes."

  "Plenty of time." She looked at her brother. "Help Nate into the great room. Make sure his foot is elevated on pillows above his heart."

  Nate started to speak.

  Ty raised his hand. "Don't say a word. Just go with it. Been here myself. You're in good hands."

  Six minutes later, Rachel entered the great room, tray in hand. Wood crackled and flames danced in the stone fireplace. Pine boughs and holly covered the wood mantel. Candles and the word JOY spelled out in silver letters were interspersed among the greenery.

  A rope hung across the front of the fireplace and strung through the loops on red stockings with names on the white cuffs, one for each of the ranch employees and one for her. She'd been touched and honored. The only family she had was Ty, but here at the Bar V5, she felt part of something bigger. "I appreciate your hanging a stocking for me."

  "I told you the first day we met. You're family."

  Family should feel comfortable around each other. Being alone with Nate unnerved Rachel, like she was standing on a cliff, with deep water below, unsure if she should jump or edge back slowly.

  She placed the tray with his beer, her mug of steaming tea, and a bowl of popcorn on the coffee table. "Do you need ibuprofen?"

  "Took some for the swelling. Any pain will be eased by the company." He sat with his foot on pillows and the makeshift ice pack against his ankle. "This couch has a better view than the other two."

  Maybe, but the other leather sofas were empty. She wouldn't be seated right next to him.

  "You'll be able to reach your tea from here, too," he added.

  True, but he would be within arm's reach. Oh-so-tempting.

  "Come on." He patted the cushion next to him. "I haven't seen you much except during meals."

  She sat, a cushion away from the spot he'd patted. A safe distance.

  Or maybe not.

  His soap scent had replaced the dirt and musky male smell she'd gotten used to while eating with a bunch of ranch hands. She wanted another sniff of the fresh aroma. And his skin.

  He picked up the beer bottle. "How do you like your room?"

  "It's amazing." Sleeping between luxurious high-thread count linens on a soft-as-a-cloud mattress made her feel like royalty. The plush, white towels in the bathroom went to the top spot on her if-I-win-the-lottery-list. Maybe if she limited any naughty thoughts about Nate and stayed on the nice list, Santa would bring her a set for Christmas. "Nightly turn-down service and a Copper Mountain Chocolate on my pillow are nice touches. You or Ty?"

  Nate's cheeks reddened, answering her question. "That's what we do for guests."

  "I thought I was family."

  "Guests and family." He took a swig of beer.

  She glanced around the room until her gaze rested on the fifteen-foot Christmas tree positioned in front of two floor-to-ceiling windows, twinkling with multi-colored lights. A shiny gold star sat at the top. A wooden carved nativity was centered beneath the branches, on a colorful patchwork tree skirt. "

  Rachel loved this place. "Staying here's spoiled me. Will make it hard to go back to Ty's apartment."

  Or hers in Arizona.

  That was a crazy thought. She picked up her mug. The desert was home, not the mountains.

  "You're welcome to stay as long as you want."

  "Thanks." The russet of her tea reminded her of Nate's eyes. Rachel's heart bumped. "I imagine Christmas must be lovely at the ranch."

  "It's quiet." His voice sounded lower, more serious than normal. He shifted positions. "At least until people come over for Christmas dinner. Folks know there's an open invitation so I'm never sure who'll show up 'til they step through the door. It's a potluck rather than a traditional menu, though I do cook a turkey."

  "Sounds fun."

  He leaned toward her. "You'll be here?"

  She reached for the popcorn to put more distance between them. Avoid crawling onto his lap like the kitten he'd saved. Being careful of his ankle, of course.

  What would happen if she did?

  That was what she'd been thinking about at night, two doors away, waiting for him to walk past her room. Knock. Just to check on her.

  Right.

  "Rachel."

  "Oh, yeah. Of course we'll be there. I brought my favorite holiday recipes with me. I'll cook a couple of dishes."

  "The more the merrier. This place was built for a crowd."

  And that's when she realized what Nate Vaughn wanted—company. The guy was lonely with no guests to care for and entertain. Helping her with the gingerbread houses might be for Ty, but also gave Nate something to do, something other than being alone in this big house.

  He touched her shoulder. "Hey. You seem miles away. The movie's starting."

  Her sweater kept his skin from touching hers. Yet heat emanated from the point of contact, sending chills down her arm. The good kind, ones she hadn't felt since the last time he'd made this happen a few days ago. She swallowed. "Just enjoying the Christmas tree."

  And his touch.

  All she had to do was scoot a couple inches to her left. She had a feeling he might meet her halfway. Maybe put his arm around her. Except...

  Her stomach knotted, like curling ribbon that had fallen off the spool into a jumbled mess.

  Rachel didn't want to repeat her past mistakes. They'd cost her so much, too much. What if this turned into another misstep? Her heart didn't want to take the chance.

  Reluctantly, she leaned forward, set her mug on the table, and reached for the popcorn bowl.

  His hand slipped off her shoulder, the way she'd expected. He rested his forearm on the cushion between them. Exactly what she'd wanted to happen. But darn it, she missed his touch.

  Rachel offered Nate popcorn then forced herself to stare at the television. Concentrate on the opening credits. Focus on the first scene.

  Except she couldn't stop thinking about the man seated next to her. For so long, she'd allowed work dreams of a bakery to dominate her fantasies, pushing thoughts of a serious relationship, having her own family and the future out of the way. But here in Montana, those thoughts were becoming stronger, more vivid, and starred Nate. She shivered.

  He placed his arm along the back of the couch. "There are blankets on the quilt rack by the Christmas tree if you're cold."

  "I'm fine." She remembered his ankle. "Do you need one?"

  "Nope."
He tipped back his beer. "I'm nice and warm."

  Hot, actually. But no one was asking her opinion.

  The bowl of popcorn rested between them.

  Weird. Nate seemed to have moved closer.

  A full cushion no longer separated them. But even stranger, he hadn't been the only one to bridge the gap between the bottom sofa cushions. She'd done the same thing.

  Uh-oh.

  At this rate, they'd be on top of each other before Marley appeared, dragging his heavy chains. That appealed to her more than hearing Tiny Tim's famous words at the end.

  She thought Nate felt the same way, at least by the way he was acting tonight, but what would that mean?

  A holiday fling.

  Rachel's stomach plunged to her feet. A sign what might happen to her heart. Splat.

  Nope. Best to keep things nice and easy between them, like friends. Good, helpful, care-about-each-other friends.

  That meant she had to make sure she didn't move any closer to him and not eat any popcorn. She didn't dare reach into the bowl and accidentally touch Nate.

  Because despite her friends-only intentions, she might not want to let go.

  The snow kept falling. Nate didn't mind the white stuff, but he didn't know how many days of the storm he could take being stuck inside. Lying in bed, he punched his pillow, trying to get comfortable. He hadn't slept well.

  His ankle, but mostly Rachel.

  Last night Nate had been too focused on her to pay attention to the movie. He could have made a move, see if she was interested in him romantically or not, but no, he sneaked peeks and touches like a fourteen-year-old, too afraid of the consequences if he crossed the imaginary boundary line set by her over-protective older brother.

  Stupid.

  Not to mention that he was the worst friend ever.

  But he couldn't help himself.

  Nate tried to think of Rachel as an old friend like Annie. He tried to think of her as an employee like Charlie. Even tried to think of her as a sister. Nothing worked. Rachel's baking skills, her creativity, her kindness, her compassion and her nurturing made his desire grow stronger each time he saw her.

  If Ty knew, he would never stay at the Bar V5. He'd want to take Rachel with him. And she would likely choose her loyalty to her brother over a man she'd just met.

  But Nate wasn't the kind of guy to assume the temperature was too cold for a swim without dipping in his toe into the water. Or in this case, tasting the water.

  Besides a few touches and a near kiss, nothing physical had happened between them. These thoughts and feelings about Rachel could all be in his head, a fantasy, a Christmas wish. He needed to find out whether they were real or not. And if real, whether they were reciprocated.

  If they were, he was screwed.

  A knock sounded at the door. Must be Ty. He checked on employees whenever they were sick or hurt. Nate's ankle throbbed. He hoped Ty came bearing ibuprofen and a fresh ice pack. "Come in."

  Rachel entered, carrying a tray. "Good morning."

  He bolted upright, his blanket falling off his bare chest. At least his ankle had been bothering him too much last night to bother taking off his sweatpants. Otherwise she would have caught him in the nude. "Hey."

  Her eyes widened. Her gaze dropped to his chest. "How's, um, your ankle?"

  "Okay. A little sore." Seeing her made him feel like the sun had burst through the clouds. She wore a red apron over her long-sleeved forest green shirt, faded jeans and multi-colored, polka dotted socks. She walked toward him, her lopsided ponytail bouncing and a wide smile on her face. "Nothing that more ice, a couple anti-inflammatories, and breakfast can't fix."

  He wasn't sure how Rachel managed to look beautiful and adorable at the same time, but she did. "Thanks."

  She rested the tray against her hip and handed him an ice pack. "Put this on your ankle."

  He did, never taking his gaze off her.

  Forget keeping Hansel at the ranch. Nate wanted Gretel in a bad way.

  "Take it easy today." Her voice slid over him, soft and sweet. "Stay in bed."

  Hell, he wanted her to set the tray on the dresser then slide in bed and spend the day with him, limbs and tongues tangled, without the cute clothes. That would give him all the answers he needed.

  She gave him the tray. "I made you a cheesy scramble with hash browns, molasses toast and a strawberry-banana smoothie."

  Nate didn't know what smelled better—breakfast or her, a mix of vanilla, something floral, and sugar plums.

  He was losing his mind.

  Cabin fever must have set in during the last, oh, sixteen hours. Either that or wanting to have sex with his best friend's sister had re-wired Nate's brain.

  She leaned toward Nate. Touched his forehead. "Are you okay?"

  No. But he could fake it. "Hungry."

  "Let me know if there's anything you need."

  Nate wanted her, but he knew that wasn't what she meant. "Company would be nice."

  Way to go, Vaughn. Why not light ten sticks of dynamite to see what might happen? Or ask to see her breasts?

  She nodded. "I'll be back once I pull the gingerbread out of the oven, okay?"

  He nodded, even though none of this was okay. Ty would never be okay with Nate having sex with Rachel.

  Crap. He stared at the food on the tray, his appetite completely gone, then up at Rachel. His chest tightened.

  If he kept this up, he would destroy his relationship with Ty.

  Change the Bar V5 forever.

  Nate couldn't do that.

  I've seen you choose your work over women every single time.

  Ty's words echoed through Nate's head. He'd done that, and he would do the same thing again this time. Put the ranch above his personal needs. Above Rachel.

  Nate needed to push all physical attraction and desire for Rachel away. No testing and tasting between friends. Or their sisters.

  He might want to, but he couldn't. Wouldn't. Not worth the risk to her, to him, to the Bar V5.

  Maybe if Nate told himself that enough times, he might start to believe it.

  By the time the storm passed two days later, Rachel knew all about Nate leaving the Bar V5 to go to college, business school, and into venture capital, to his return, falling in love with the ranch and never wanting to leave. The worst part was she wanted more. More talking. More sharing. More Nate.

  With a sigh hanging on the chilly morning air, Rachel made her way to the barn along the shoveled path.

  Nate's openness to questions surprised her. He didn't act smooth or gloss over his mistakes. His honesty gave her hope about guys, and she appreciated the way he listened to her. Ty only heard a few of her words before suggesting fixes and dismissing concerns. Nate waited until she finished, no matter how long she took to get something out then gave an opinion only if she asked. Talking with him felt different, like shopping with him had felt different. Not so much side-by-side buddies hanging out, but more like they were... together.

  But he hadn't made a move or asked her out on a date. She couldn't be sure if he was just being super-friendly, her Christmastime BFF, and was going to let her down slowly from her obvious crush.

  At least her crush was obvious to her.

  Nate acted oblivious, but she didn't know if that was on purpose or not. She wasn't sure what to hope for, except she didn't like the status quo.

  In spite of her cold-weather gear, her teeth chattered. She carried a container of fresh-from-the-oven scones, a jar of jelly, and container of butter. Yesterday, he'd mentioned how his mother used to make scones for him and his dad, so Rachel had decided to surprise him. Cowboys had to take breaks once in a while, right?

  She entered the barn. Empty.

  "Hello?" A peek into Ty's office showed a desk and chair covered with barn cats, making the most of the heated room. "Where is everyone?"

  "Define everyone." Nate walked toward her, no trace of a limp now that his ankle had healed, and a black cat at his feet. He stretched
his arms wide. "Will I do?"

  A wool cap pulled low hid his hair, but the shoved-down gaiter around his neck showed his smiling, handsome face. With his thick jacket, insulated pants and heavy boots, he looked rugged, a total hottie who'd stepped out of a glossy Carhartt ad.

  Staring at him was like plunging herself into a hot tub. The chill disappeared in a flash. "You'll do."

  "Something smells good." He eyed the container. "You come bearing gifts."

  "Scones."

  His smile widened, spreading across his face to his eyes. "You remembered."

  Her heart stumbled, head over heels, until dropping at his booted feet. The man had no idea how he twisted her into knots. Rachel smiled tentatively, glancing up at him. "Told ya. Mind like an elephant. They're still warm. I brought jelly and butter. Thought you all might want a break and a snack."

  "Thanks, but the guys aren't here."

  Rachel had made the scones as an excuse to see Nate, but she'd made plenty for everyone. "Where are they?"

  "Down at one of the cabin clusters, clearing snow from rooftops." A more intense smile replaced the sexy Carhartt model grin.

  Alone. Just like she wanted.

  Until an avalanche of second thoughts buried her with a vengeance.

  The way Nate looked at her would melt the snow on those roofs in a flash.

  This was not a holiday fling. This was not diving off a cliff into a pool of cool, deep water. This was jumping off the ledge of a burning building, flames licking at her heels, and trusting the guy with his arms out would catch you.

  And trust was so not her thing. Not anymore.

  She stood firmly on her ledge and her fingers clawing into the wall.

  "Let's go," Rachel said. "Nothing beats a warm scone."

  The intensity in his face ratcheted down. "Sure, I'll take you anywhere you want to go."

  His words blanketed her like the goose down duvet on her bed in the ranch house. "It's time I saw some of the Bar V5 beyond the main house, barn and meadow in back. It'll be a nice walk."

  "There's no shoveled path."

  "I don't mind a little snow."

  "There's a lot of snow. You could get lost. Fall. Drop the scones." He met her gaze. "I'll drive you over on the snowmobile."

 

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