Chapter Six

The Wooden Nickel looked like Olaf the Snowman had exploded inside. White fake snow covered and glistened on anything it could adhere to. White twinkle lights embedded in garland wrapped every available pine surface, and icicle lights littered the ceiling. Dan had no doubt Candy was in charge of decorating this year. He caught her eye and tipped his hat as he helped Sofie settle onto a high-back stool against the far railing of the dance floor. Candy beamed and uncapped another bottle, sliding it down the counter to Sheriff Wade Wallace.

“Y’all love Christmas, don’t you?”

Dan laughed. “If I had to guess, the owner, Phil, is probably away, so Candy took it upon herself to do things ‘right.’”

He waved to a few locals and snuck some glances at the angel beside him as Sofie tried to absorb all Fly Creek had to offer in a local bar. She’d lightened up over the day—offering her smiles and laughs more freely, being less prickly when he offered a hand or tried to open her door. Their day had been full of laughs and superficial conversation. The problem came in that the more time he spent in her company, the more he wanted to learn the non-superficial stuff.

“So this is your big entertainment here in town?” She’d shifted in the stool and almost overbalanced before catching herself and settling back against the railing.

“No. We reserve the term ‘big entertainment’ for something like the moonshine races in the fall.”

Sofie’s mouth hung open, and Dan closed it with a fingertip, lightly grazing her lower lip before letting it fall. “I’m kidding. We’re really not some backward town. We just happen to be small and isolated in comparison to most places on your side of the country.”

“I never thought you were backward,” she said, her eyes fixed on his hand resting on the pub table.

“Well, tonight I thought you might enjoy a different kind of race.”

As if on cue, several cowboys, temp ranch hands during the summer, carried out barstools modified with saddles on top. To go along with the festivus that Candy had instilled, each pommel had bells and a red bow hanging from it.

Sofie clapped her hands together, and Dan soaked up the smile wreathing her face. He’d promised her fun, and by the looks of it, he was well on his way to keeping that. He’d look for kudos where he could find them.

“Have you ever done it?”

Dan rubbed a hand down his neck and nodded. He couldn’t have stopped the heat spreading across his cheeks if given an entire tub of ice.

“Oooh, it was about a girl wasn’t it?”

He was saved from confessing by Candy tapping the microphone to her jean-clad legs.

“All right, cowgirls up first.”

A line of six women formed, each pointing and poking at each other and various people in the bar.

“What do they win?” Sofie asked.

“Boasting rights and drinks for the rest of the night.”

Sofie snorted. “Boasting rights. Really?”

“Ask Emily about it.”

“No.” Her eyes bulged. “Surely she didn’t.”

Dan smiled. “She wiped the floor clean. Adam strutted around like she was the prize steer.”

“I don’t believe you. You’re just teasing me.”

Dan leaned closer. “I have pictures.”

Sofie’s eyes widened even more, and she made a “gimme” gesture.

“They’re at my cabin on a flash drive. I promise I’ll show them to you before she gets back.”

His gaze lingered on hers, her eyes searching his and enjoying whatever she saw. Before he knew what he was doing, he’d leaned into the last little gap between them and brushed her lips. Her mouth was warm and soft beneath his. He’d meant it to be a one and done, but she sighed in response, and he went back for another.

Jingle bells broke through the haze, and he opened his eyes to see her questioning hazel ones staring into his. The simple answer was, he’d wanted to kiss her, but that wasn’t what she wanted to hear, as evidenced by the panic also present in her expression.

He pointed above them, and she glanced up. “Mistletoe.”

He was saved by more bells and commotion, and they both turned to see three cowgirls doing their best to ride the barstool down the dance floor. “Grandma got run over by a reindeer” blasted through the speakers as the whole bar hooted and hollered. A small redhead crossed the line first, pumping her fists.

“Figures,” Dan muttered.

“What?”

He pointed to the cowgirl now mock bowing to the cheering crowd. “Becky Jane. She’ll be unbearable tomorrow.”

He tried to keep the distraction going, but his lips still tingled from their kiss. Had he lost his damn mind? Who kissed a pregnant woman, especially one as wary as Sofie? Guilt washed over him, and he shifted in his seat, putting at least another inch of distance between them. He needed to get himself and this crazy attraction to Sofie under control.

And yet the memory of their kiss played over and over in his mind, and no distraction could keep him from thinking about how much he wanted to do it again.

…

Sofie shifted her gaze between Dan and the petite, fiery cowgirl who’d just cleaned the floor on a barstool. It was silly to be jealous. Dan wasn’t hers. She wasn’t looking, even if his out-of-the-blue, blame-it-on-the-mistletoe kiss still had her blood humming. But when she felt like an over-inflated balloon and was faced with an attractive woman who clearly had a relationship of some kind with the man who revved her engine, well, jealousy had a mind of its own.

Then again he had kissed her.

“Does she work for the ranch?” Sofie mentally patted herself on the back for how normal she sounded.

“Not technically. She’s the vet.”

“Oh.” Sofie took in the small woman. “And she handles dogs and cats?”

Dan met her gaze. “She handles it all.”

Great. Not only was the redhead pretty, she was also accomplished. Sofie pushed down a wave of inadequacy. She had accomplished some things, like college and teaching. And fleeing cross-country from a controlling ex-husband. They counted, didn’t they? She was starting to handle it all.

“And she’s the biggest pain in the butt.”

That didn’t sound like admiration.

“Well, we can’t all be charming like you,” she said drily.

That earned her a snort and narrowed gaze. “You hungry?”

“I suppose gingerbread is on the menu?”

Dan laughed, and several heads turned toward them. Sofie smiled at the strangers, earning a nice wave or tip of the hat in return.

“No. I don’t think Candy would push the limits that far. Basic bar food. But if that doesn’t satisfy your cravings, then we can go somewhere else.”

“Fries sound heavenly.”

“Fries it is,” he said, and went to put in the order with Candy.

Sofie soaked in the atmosphere as another round of girls took off. Is that…? Surely that woman was not as old as she looked. But when the stool crossed the finish line and the cowgirl turned, Sofie’s mouth snapped open. That woman was clearly someone’s grandmother.

“It will be about five,” Dan said, hopping back in his chair.

Sofie pointed but couldn’t find a tactful way to ask.

“Oh boy.” Dan rubbed his hands together and sat up straighter. “That’s Polly. She takes yoga from your sister.”

“Is she…”

“Over seventy? Yep.” He snorted. “Lord, she’ll be worse than BJ if she wins. Man, this is going to be fun.”

The two women circled one another, trash talking, and Sofie took it all in. This was beyond anything she could have imagined occurring back home in Pennsylvania. She was sure friendly rivals like this existed there, but something about Fly Creek and its inhabitants added a little something to it. Not to mention the holiday magic all but being shoved down their throat.

In the end, there was no winner. Polly stuck her boot out, tripping Becky Jane but also hooking herself in the process. Both women went tumbling, Becky Jane in a much more athletic roll than Polly, who’s descent caused a hush rather than a rush of people. Both women declared themselves fine and were treated to a round at the bar.

Sofie couldn’t stop laughing. She hugged her belly as wave after wave of giggles moved through her.

“I promised you fun, didn’t I?”

Dan’s face was flushed with pride. He’d given her this gift of an evening. One full of French fries and frivolity. A small glimpse into the town she would come to call home. It eased so many of her concerns. And he did it all without taking anything for himself.

She wasn’t sure what to make of him. He seemed to be a bona fide gentleman, which while frustrating at times, was also completely attractive. He had to have some kind of ulterior motive, some dark secret or flaw. No one was this perfect.

“It’s been a lot of fun.”

“Tired?” He was honestly asking, the tone of his voice conveying nothing but concern for her. She examined herself and realized she wasn’t. She was content and peaceful.

“Not really.”

“Up for a walk around the square and some cider?”

“I’d like that.” He returned her smile with a genuine one of his own and helped her slide off the barstool. Her flats were silent on the wooden planks, each step reminding her of his earlier words.

“I think I want some boots.”

He glanced at her, a question in his eyes. It had been a rather random statement, even if the progression had followed in her mind.

She waved her hands in the air. “Sorry, that was random, but still, can you think of a single citizen in Fly Creek who doesn’t own at least one pair?”

He glanced around and then back, his eyes searching, but she would bet her favorite Jimmy Choos he was trying to prove her theory wrong. Finally, he shook his head. “Nope.”

“See. If I’m to be a resident, I need to walk the walk.”

He laughed.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he said as he wiped the smirk from his face.

She stepped close to him, poking him in his well-muscled chest with a finger. She’d been trying for intimidation, but what she got instead was awareness. From both of them. His eyes widened, and the color deepened even as her pulse picked up and heat spread throughout. They broke away at the same time.

“If you mention my waddle, I’ll have to take you down.”

He nodded, not denying that was exactly what he’d been laughing about, but the lingering heat in his eyes made the awareness still coursing through her intensify. What on earth were they doing?

Dan led her out of the Wooden Nickel and onto a quiet but not entirely deserted Fly Creek street. The gazebo he mentioned sat in the square, its lights visible from a few blocks away.

“Potters is down here. Great teas and coffee, and at this time of year, hot chocolate and cider and mulberry wine.”

Adjusting her scarf, she slid her arm through his and let him lead her down the sidewalk. He’d tensed at the brief action, then relaxed and pulled her closer. This was nice. Simple. Fun. She had thought being “babysat” by him would be a chore, constricting. Instead, she felt carefree for the first time in years.

A low chorus reached her ears, and she glanced up to see a crowd of people surrounding the gazebo. She tugged Dan’s arm. “What’s that?”

“Town carolers.”

“Seriously?” They really were in a Christmas movie.

“What? You have a problem with Christmas carols?”

“Not at all.”

He glanced over at her and arched a brow. “Great. What’s your favorite?”

“‘Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.’”

“Ahh, Judy.”

Warmth and excitement burst through her at such a simple piece of knowledge. “Yes.”

“Great song and pretty good movie. One of Shelby’s favorites. She would make us watch it every Christmas.”

The giggles erupted again. “Somehow I have a hard time picturing you with a bowl of popcorn watching Meet Me in St. Louis.”

“Not just me. Her son and husband, too. I mean, you’ve met Shelby Marks. Can you picture going against her in anything?”

Sofie sobered. He may not have realized it, but he’d finally shared something about himself, something she hadn’t known she craved until it was out there. So much of her story could be inferred just from her arrival, but Dan was entrenched in his town. Everyone seemed to know him and adore him. And yet she knew nothing except his name and his job. Funny how that hadn’t seemed a problem for two people who had no connection beyond getting caught up in a herd of cows.

Well, until he kissed her.

“Good thing I love that woman. And the movie wasn’t too bad, either.”

Sofie’s throat swelled with emotion. This town, this man, her circumstances were all too good to be true. She felt like she was waiting for the other shoe to drop. And it would drop.

…

Dan told himself the feeling of contentment was just because he was doing something he always did. Taking care of people. He was being dependable like Shelby asked him to be. Maybe if he repeated it enough times, he might actually start to believe it.

He pulled through the arches of Sky Lake and noticed Sofie craning her neck to take in everything. He slowed his speed and took the long way around to the main lodge, savoring every gasp and “ooh” and “ahh” that escaped her luscious lips. It had been stupid to kiss her and even stupider to blame it on the mistletoe, but she had looked every inch the angel he thought her, and how many people could claim they had kissed an angel? A possibly married angel. Lord, had he crossed a major line?

“Is anyone joining you on this holiday?”

They had just passed the roping barn, lit up in red and green, and enough light reflected through the windshield that he could see the frown forming.

“Nope. Just me, myself, and I.” She rubbed her stomach. “And my son.”

That still wasn’t confirmation, and as if she could hear his lingering concerns, she said, “I’m not married. Not anymore.”

The confession lingered in the cab. Somehow saying great didn’t seem like the appropriate response.

After he had stalled long enough, he brought them around to the main circle.

“Thank you for tolerating me tonight.” He pretended to flick his hair off his shoulder. “It’s nice to be able to let one’s hair down every now and then.”

Sofie laughed, which as exactly what he’d hoped, and he hopped out and circled around to open her door, more than pleased that she let him instead of pulling her usual stubborn, “I can do it, get out of my way.”

He planned to say goodnight right there, but something about the lines that bracketed her face and the slight way her shoulders stooped had him reaching for her hand and tucking it into his arm. She turned easily, and they climbed the steps to the main porch.

Most of the lights were dimmed in the chandeliers overhead, and the trees remained lit. Music still piped softly, the chords of “White Christmas” following them to the elevator. He should totally say goodnight there. Enough blurred lines already existed for him from this evening, but when the elevator doors opened, they stepped in side by side. A quick glance at her face showed no concern, no awkwardness. She leaned into him and let him support her a little more.

“I’m so sorry to have kept you out so late. I should have seen you were tiring and brought you back here immediately.”

She looked up at him. “I’m not going to break. And while I am tired, honestly, I’m tired all the time. I wouldn’t have traded tonight for an extra hour or two of sleep. It was wonderful and just what I needed.”

The tension in the elevator was nearly claustrophobic. He desperately wanted to take Sofie in his arms and kiss her. A real kiss. One that lingered as he explored her mouth with slow, sweeping strokes.

Finally, the doors opened, and he led her to her room. This was definitely where he would say goodnight and thank her again, but when she opened the door and invited him inside, he followed. Blurred lines be damned.