A Texas Cowboy's Christmas. Cathy Gillen Thacker

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ out,” she murmured with a rueful grin, rising to join her son.

      Not wanting to intrude, Chance stayed behind to make her wish come true.

      * * *

      CHANCE LOCKHART WAS full of surprises, Molly thought minutes later, looking at the series of action photos he had taken on his cell phone while she and Braden had admired the burst of colors streaking across the late afternoon sky.

      “Thank you for capturing that moment,” Molly said softly when they walked back inside a few minutes later to put the stollen in the oven. Chance had not only gotten several nice shots of her and Braden together—something that rarely happened on the spur of the moment since she had no other family member to do the honor—but he’d also managed to capture a close-up of the wonder on her little boy’s face.

      Priceless.

      “I thought you would want to remember it. Not every day you see a rainbow on Thanksgiving.”

      Not every day she spent a holiday with such a sweet, handsome man. Not that this was a date. Even if it had started to feel like a date.

      Molly finished getting Braden out of his rain gear, then showed her little boy the photos Chance had taken on his phone and emailed to her.

      “That’s me,” Braden said gleefully. “And Mommy!” He pushed the phone away. “Can we dec’rate tree?”

      That had been her original plan.

      Chance shrugged his broad shoulders affably. “I’m up for it if you are,” he said.

      “You’re really into Christmas, aren’t you?” She hadn’t met many single guys who were.

      Or were this kind to her son.

      “Hey.” Chance aimed a thumb at the center of his chest. “When the opportunity to be chivalrous presents itself...”

      He was on board, Molly thought. Which just went to show how badly she had misjudged the gorgeous cowboy.

      By the time the oven timer went off half an hour later, they had the lights strung and on. Half a dozen ornaments later, the fruit-and-nut-studded pastry was cool enough to finish.

      Aprons went back on. Although this time Molly made sure that Chance had the larger garment. Together, they all brushed on melted butter, then sprinkled the tops of their masterpieces with granulated sugar.

      “And now for the pièce de résistance!” Molly declared triumphantly, showing her son how to use the sifter to cover the pastry with a final snowy-white cover of confectioner’s sugar. She handed the sifter to Chance, watched as he did the same to his and then followed suit.

      The three pastries made a lovely, Christmassy sight.

      “Eat now?” Braden asked.

      Molly grinned. “Let’s taste it.” She cut off a two-inch slice for Braden, a larger one for Chance and a slightly smaller one for herself.

      They all bit down on the soft, citrus-flavored nut-and-fruit bread with the sweet and slightly crunchy exterior. “Wow.” Chance’s hazel eyes lit up. “That’s...amazing.”

      “Yummy,” Braden agreed.

      Molly had to admit, between the three of them they had done a good job. Before she could think, she offered, “Want to take a loaf home with you?”

      Luckily he didn’t read any extra meaning into her impulsive gesture. An affable grin deepened the crinkles around his eyes. “Sure you don’t mind?”

      Remembering what her late mother had told her—that the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach—Molly shrugged off the importance. “I’ll be baking all month long.”

      His gaze skimmed her appreciatively. “In that case—” he winked “—I’ll have to remember to come around more often.”

      Molly caught her breath at the implication.

      Was he truly interested in her?

      She knew she desired him. Always had. Even though they were clearly all wrong for each other. Still...

      “All done, Mommy!”

      Switching quickly back to parenting mode, Molly gently wiped the sugar from her son’s hands and face. Braden reclaimed the Rudolph and sleigh, along with his favorite blue blankie. Yawning, he snuggled on the sofa.

      Chance arched an inquisitive brow. “Nap time?”

      “Two hours ago,” Molly confirmed softly, watching Braden struggle to keep his eyes open.

      “Oh.” A wealth of emotion—and understanding—in a single word.

      “Yeah. I was hoping—” Molly moved closer to Chance, whispering even more quietly “—he’d be able to get through the day without one. Especially since it’s so late.”

      Chance shook his head fondly. Putting an easy hand on Molly’s shoulder, he nodded in the direction of the couch. “Looks like he’s already asleep.”

      Molly took in the sight of her child, blissfully cuddled up, auburn lashes fanning across his cheek. She sighed. “Indeed, he is.”

      Chance caressed her shoulder lightly. “That’s a problem?”

      Molly’s heart raced at the casual contact. “He’ll be grouchy when I do wake him up before dinner and may have trouble falling asleep tonight.”

      “Anything I can do?”

      If you were here, sure. You won’t be. Molly looked up at Chance. Time seemed to suspend. Suddenly there was just the two of them. “Cross your fingers for me?”

      His eyes darkened. He brushed his thumb across her lower lip and continued to regard her steadily. “How about something even better?” he said huskily, lifting her hand to his lips. He pressed a kiss across her knuckles. She caught her breath. And then she was in his arms. Wrapping both his hands around her small waist, he caught her against him, so they were length to length.

      Molly’s breath hitched again.

      “Chance,” she whispered.

      His head lowered. Slowly. Purposefully. “Just one, darlin’...” He tunneled his hands through her hair and his eyes shuttered. “That’s all I’m asking.”

      Molly saw the kiss coming, and she knew she should do something to stop it. She was attracted to Chance enough already. If his lips were to actually touch hers...

      With a small, sharp intake of breath, she lifted both hands and spread them across the muscular warmth of his broad chest. His heart was beating, strong and steady. His head lowered even more. And then there was no stopping it. Their lips connected, and a shiver of pure delight went through her. Her usual caution gone, she opened her mouth to the seductive pressure of his. He tasted like rich black coffee and freshly baked stollen. And man. And she could no more deny him than she could deny herself. It was Thanksgiving, after all. A day to count blessings. Be happy. Thankful. At ease. And СКАЧАТЬ