Christmas In Mustang Creek. Maisey Yates

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СКАЧАТЬ he’d been a total gentleman the night before, hadn’t he? And now he’d taken Mutley for a much-needed walk. It wasn’t his fault, after all, that she was overly susceptible to his smile.

      The least she could do was be courteous.

      As they stepped inside, into the warmth and the enticing aromas of whatever was baking in the oven or cooling on the kitchen counter, or both, Charlotte’s thoughts jumped the curb again.

      What would’ve happened if he’d had a condom?

      Nothing, she told herself firmly.

      Liar. You were tempted. You would’ve given in and you know it.

      Mrs. Klozz was belting out a rendition of “Jingle Bells” from the kitchen, and the cheery sound was comforting. Charlotte couldn’t imagine walking into the house and finding it empty and quiet, like her former apartment back in the city.

      Jax bent and unhooked Mutley’s collar and then hung the leash in exactly the right spot before unzipping his jacket. “Can I take your coat?”

      Considering it was her house, Charlotte reflected, she should probably be the one offering to take his coat, but he’d already hung it on the antique coat tree. He seemed awfully...well, at home.

      Not surprising, really. It was almost Christmas, and there was magic in the air. The house was cozy, despite its size; it seemed to enfold visitors, make them feel welcome.

      Naturally, Jax was comfortable here. Everyone was.

      He collected her coat as she unwound her knitted scarf, and he automatically took that from her, draping it over the hook that held her coat. “Thanks,” she said, a little awkwardly. “Can I get you something to drink before you explain why you’re here?”

      There. She could be polite, too, and still get her point across.

      He smiled, very much at ease. “Mrs. Klozz was making a fresh pot of coffee before Mutley and I took our walk. Let’s go sit in the kitchen. That’s the most beautiful trestle-style table I’ve ever seen, by the way.”

      Charlotte blinked. Was she having an out-of-body experience or something?

      Mutley might be deaf when it suited him, but he heard the word kitchen and trotted off in that direction to check on his bowl. Jax looked at her expectantly. She muttered, “I agree about the table.” She raised one eyebrow. “How long have you been here?”

      “Long enough for the grand tour. This is a great old house. Please tell me it always smells this good in here.”

      That seemed an odd thing to say. The smell was fabulous, yes, but Jax was merely passing through. Why should he care about always? “I... Well... She likes to bake, apparently.”

      He gestured, then bowed slightly. “After you.”

      Gracious of him. Charlotte walked into the kitchen and not surprisingly, there was a plate of sugar cookies on the table, decorated with red and green icing, and what looked like banana muffins. Also a plate of chicken-salad sandwiches on homemade bread. Plus a carafe, two coffee cups, two plates, a small creamer and a sugar bowl...

      Mrs. Klozz had switched her personal playlist from “Jingle Bells” to “Silent Night,” but stopped in midrefrain when they entered the room. “Oh, you’re back, I see, both of you. How was my dear Geneva?”

      “Good. Much better than I expected her to be.” Charlotte wondered if this woman was more wizard than sweet little old lady. “They all said thank-you for the cookies.”

      “Oh, my pleasure. Now sit down and help yourselves. I have the shameful habit of tasting everything as I cook, so you’ll rarely find me sitting down to a meal.”

      Jax was invited to lunch. She wasn’t surprised, since Millicent seemed that sort of person, but there was an undertone she didn’t understand. Something was afoot.

      Earlier, Mrs. Klozz had referred to Jax as Charlotte’s young man. How did she even know that?

      Through Geneva, she assumed. Charlotte hadn’t given her aunt the details about their relationship; all she’d mentioned was that she’d met someone and they’d clicked immediately, but their lives were headed in different directions.

      That didn’t explain how Mrs. Klozz had known Jax was in Mustang Creek.

      Millicent had the good grace to blush slightly. “I invited him over,” she confessed. “You see, he called your cell phone, and I was worried it might be important, so I tried to answer, but I wasn’t fast enough. Then I started punching buttons, and lo and behold, that cunning little device just called him right back. He picked up and, well, here he is.”

      Charlotte tilted her head to one side, wondering exactly where she’d lost track of the conversation.

      “Okay,” she said.

      “Such a modern world,” Mrs. Klozz went on, still talking about the phone. “I don’t mind technology, you understand, but change is always a challenge, especially for an older person. By some miracle, I managed.”

      Charlotte was finding out for herself that change was a challenge, and she had the distinct impression that this sweet old lady could manage anything she wanted to. At least it explained why Jax was there.

      Sort of.

      Jax was focused on the food. “This looks fantastic.”

      He was right; it did.

      “The way to a man’s heart.” Mrs. Klozz glowed, either heedless of the timeworn cliché she’d uttered or not caring. Before meeting Millicent, Charlotte hadn’t been aware that people could actually glow, but here was proof.

      Not standing on ceremony, Jax picked up the plate of sandwiches and offered it to her. “Ladies first.”

      * * *

      JAX KNEW HE’D have to come clean, and quickly, because Charlotte was intuitive; she’d guess that something was up. If she didn’t want him there—and he was sure she wouldn’t—he’d go dislodge Rufus and sleep on Nate’s old couch. The thought overwhelmed him with loneliness. And the old house really was homey.

      He had to wonder what Charlotte was going to do with a place like this. She was used to sleek apartments, cabs and limos and subways. While the small-town girl with the crocheted hat might thrive living within these walls, he wasn’t so sure about Charlotte’s alter ego, the no-nonsense city woman. And right now he hadn’t figured out which Charlotte he was dealing with.

      At Millicent’s urging, they took their places at the table.

      In the next moment, Mrs. Klozz bustled off to some other part of the house, presumably to give them some time alone.

      Charlotte immediately tucked into a sandwich. Well, that answered one question anyway. “I can’t believe how good this is.” Between bites, she dropped her voice and whispered to Jax, “She can’t stay. I’ll gain a thousand pounds.”

      Jax smiled at the picture that arose in his mind. “I doubt that,” he said. “A hundred pounds, maybe. But a thousand?”

      Charlotte СКАЧАТЬ