A Cowboy for Christmas (14 page)

Rafferty clenched his jaw, tightened his hands on the steering wheel.

Lissette misread his hesitation. “Look, we don't have to go inside if you really don't want to be here.”

“I want to be here.”

“It's just that, well, you look like you're having some kind of inner struggle and losing the battle. I get the meeting-new-people thing. I'm shy too, at times. Jake brought me out of that somewhat, but to be honest, I'm just as happy sitting at home, baking or watching a movie, curling up on the couch with Kyle.”

“They're your friends. We're not going to stand them up,” he said, letting her believe that his inner struggle stemmed from introversion versus extroversion rather than the desire that flamed through him every time he was near her. Tonight she smelled of apricots. He wanted to lean over the seat and nibble the soft lobe of her ear to see if she tasted like the apricots he could pluck from the trees in his front yard.

Rafferty got out of the truck and started around to open her door for her, but she'd already hopped out and moved around to get Kyle out of his car seat. When she glanced up and saw him on her side of the vehicle, she looked surprised.

“Oh,” she said. “You were coming around to open the car door for me.”

“Sorry, habit.”

“No reason to apologize.”

“I've met women who claimed I set the feminist movement back twenty years when I open the door for them.”

“You're in Texas now. Plenty of men open the door for women. We love our cowboys and their manners here in the Lone Star State.”

“Guess I've been living in the wrong state all this time. You're not offended?”

“Why would I be offended?”

“Some women suggest that it means I think they aren't capable of opening their own door. To me, it's just mannerly.” He reached for Kyle after Lissy got him out of his car seat. The boy nestled in the crook of his arm as if he'd been doing it forever.

Lissette held out her arms to take the boy, but Rafferty said, “I've got him.”

Her quick smile warmed him from the toes up. “Jake usually forgot to open my car door. It didn't bother me either way. He was always so eager to get out of the car and get to the action that he swept me right along with him.”

Jake. There he was again, the specter between them.

C'mon. Jake isn't the only obstacle.

Obstacle to what? Anything between him and Lissette was a pipe dream. He might want her, but he couldn't have her. She was vulnerable, hurting on so many levels. He would not, could not take advantage.

I could
, laughed the masculine beast inside, sharpening his teeth.
Eat her up right now.
Get a load of that sweet caboose.

Go to hell
.

He clubbed his baser animal into submission, and followed Lissy up the steps to the Danielses's front door. But he couldn't help cocking his head for a gander at her backside.

“Lissy!” A petite blond answered the door with a toddler on her own hip. “You came! I'm so happy. And you must be Rafferty.” She shook his hand, smiled warmly. Then she glanced at Kyle in Rafferty's arms, looked hesitant. “Should I still call Kyle by name even if he can't hear me?”

“He's still got some residual hearing,” Lissette explained. “Talk away.”

“I can't believe how well you're adapting.” Mariah shook her head. “C'mon, let's take the kids to the playroom with Ruby. Joe is out in the backyard along with Cordy and Ila and Prissy and Paul. He's grilling steaks.”

“Are Brady and Annie coming?” Lissette asked as Mariah escorted them inside.

“They're not back from Monesta yet, but they'll be here for our annual Halloween bash. Will you be here for that, Rafferty? You're invited.”

“Thank you, ma'am.”

“The guys and Ila are in the backyard, go on out and introduce yourself,” Mariah said to him. “While Lissy and I will get the kids settled.” Mariah waved in the direction of the backyard.

Rafferty trod through the house, feeling out of place, but the minute he stepped out on the porch, a tall, lanky man with work-roughened hands that looked so much like his own came across the yard to greet him.

“Joe. Joe Daniels. C'mon over and I'll introduce you.”

Rafferty followed Joe over to where two men and a tall woman who bore a striking resemblance to the actress Angie Harmon stood around a big stainless steel state-of-the-art barbecue grill.

“This is Cordy Whiteside and his fiancée, Ila Brackeen,” Joe introduced.

Cordy stood maybe five-foot-eight with his cowboy books on and Ila stretched well over six feet. Their Mutt and Jeff proportions made Rafferty smile as he shook their hands. Ila's handshake was as strong as her fiancé's.

“Rafferty Jones,” he said. “Please to meet you.”

“Jake's brother, right?”

“Yeah.”

The other man turned out to be Paul Gibson. He was ruddy faced and sturdily built, with a military haircut and an army T-shirt. “Your brother was a great man. An honor to his country.”

“Thanks,” Rafferty said because he did not know what else to say.

“I better go see if the ladies need any help.” Ila moved away from the barbecue. “Before they start badmouthing me for shirking my girlie duties.”

“They wouldn't dare,” Cordy said.

Ila leaned down to kiss Cordy's cheek. “Don't drink too much beer. I don't feel like driving home tonight.”

“Your wish is my command.” Cordy tossed his half-consumed beer into the trash.

“Nice meeting you, Rafferty.” Ila waved and disappeared inside, leaving the backyard.

Cordy sighed, gazed longingly at Ila's retreating figure. “Ain't she sumpthin'?”

Rafferty immediately liked Joe and Cordy and Paul. They had a lot in common. The talk quickly turned to horses. They knew more about cutting horses than Rafferty did, so he milked them for information. Joe gave him specific tips on training Slate for cutting. By the time the brisket was ready for the table, Rafferty felt as if he'd known them all his life.

“How long are you planning on staying in town?” Joe asked.

“Through the futurity.”

“Mariah said you just found out about Jake's death,” Joe ventured. “We're sorry for your loss.”

“I was in Australia,” he said, feeling as if he owed them an explanation.

They seized on the neutral topic in the way of men and started asking questions about Australia. Rafferty was relieved to be off the hook. The tone of the conversation swiftly shifted from somber to teasing. They carried the meat indoors, laughing and cutting up.

Rafferty caught sight of Lissette, who was in the kitchen with Mariah, Ila, and Paul's wife, Prissy. Her eyes met his and they exchanged a quiet glance. Just looking at her caused his heart to skip a beat. How beautiful she was in that simple, white button-down shirt, Levi's, and pink cowgirl boots.

The couples gathered around the table. The food was delicious, the conversation witty and charming.

I could get used to this.

Don't get used to it. No matter how good it feels you can't stay. You've got responsibilities in California.

After they finished the meal, everyone pitched in to clean up and in no time, the dishes had been dispatched and they were sitting back at the table again, anteing up for penny poker. No big winnings or losses. Just for fun.

“Texas hold 'em.” Cordy dealt the cards.

Rafferty had the ace of clubs and the ace of diamonds. He forced his face to remain neutral. He wasn't much of a gambler, but poker was one game you could make a little money at if you could control your emotions. When he was a kid, desperate for cash, he'd picked up a few skills from the guy who ran the stables where he'd been hired to muck out stalls.

“I'm out.” Mariah tossed her cards to the middle of the table.

“Me too.” Prissy sank her elbows on the table and started talking to Mariah about new wedding veils she'd ordered for the shop and how much she was loving the latest season of
The Bachelor
. She also slipped in a detailed description of the sweater she was knitting for Paul, and then complained about how she couldn't stop their new Shar-Pei puppy from peeing on the carpet.

“Crate training,” Mariah threw in. “I'm telling you, it works.”

“But I can't stand the thought of Miss Shoo-shoo being caged up,” Prissy moaned.

Stone-faced Ila narrowed her eyes at chatty Prissy and studied her cards. She was a serious competitor. “Check.”

Joe, Cordy, Rafferty, Paul, and Lissette checked as well.

Cordy dealt out the three community cards known as the flop—seven of diamonds, six of clubs, jack of hearts.

Not great potential, but Rafferty had the pocket aces.

Lissette sat up straighter.

“Garbage.” Paul tossed down his cards.

“My fiancée has a killer hand,” Cordy observed, his eyes on Ila.

“How do you know?” Paul asked.

“She's got a tell. See the way her—”

“Blow it for me, why don't you,” Ila complained good-naturedly and pitched her cards on top of Paul's. “I'm out.”

Cordy followed suit. “Me too.” He got up to go around the back of Ila's chair for a cup of the coffee that Mariah had put on to perk. Ila reached out to pinch his butt.

“Turnabout is fair play,” she told him. “You outed me, I goose you.”

“Just wait until I get you home, woman,” Cordy threatened with a wicked grin.

“Hey, hey,” Joe said. “This is a G-rated game.”

“G-rated?” Mariah teased. “With the way you cuss?”

“Okay, PG–13.”

“So if I want to smooch on my bride-to-be—” Cordy asked from the kitchen as he poured a cup of coffee.

“Take it outside,” the group chorused in unison.

“Cordy,” Ila said, “you're supposed to be dealing the cards.”

“Can you handle it for me, babe?”

Ila leaned across the table and flipped over the turn card.

Six of diamonds.

Now Rafferty had two pair. Aces and sixes.

Joe looked at his cards, grumbled. “Fold.”

Rafferty smiled at Lissette. “Looks like it's just you and me, sweetheart.”

She slanted her eyes downward in a coy gesture that made her look so damn cute he forgot to breathe. “I'm in. I raise.” She tossed two more chips into the pile.

“Looks like you know what you're doing.” Rafferty tipped up the edges of his cards that he had lying flat facedown on the table, even though he knew what they were. Just double checking. “Is this no limit?”

“Up to you,” Joe said.

Rafferty cocked his head. “Lissy?”

She arched an eyebrow. It made him feel good to see her having such a good time. “Sky's the limit, cowboy.”

“I see your raise and raise you another two chips.”

“Call,” Lissette said.

“Oooh,” Prissy said. “Rafferty looks like he's played poker before.”

“Jake was a card shark,” Paul said. “You have big shoes to fill, Jones.”

A hush fell over the group as everyone thought of Jake and the smiles disappeared. Mariah rushed to fill in the silence. “Anyone besides Cordy want a cup of coffee?”

“I do,” Joe said. “I'll help you.”

Everyone scattered back to the kitchen leaving Rafferty and Lissette dueling over the hand. Cordy returned to the table to deal the river card.

Ace of spades.

Rafferty pressed his lips together to keep from grinning. Full house. He had this sewed up. Nonchalantly, he tossed five more chips onto the pile. “I raise.”

Lissette upped his raise.

“You sure you want to do that?” he asked. She had to be bluffing. He couldn't imagine what she had that could beat his full house. No chance for a straight or flush with those cards on the table.

“Let's go higher.” She pushed all her chips to the middle of the table. “All in.”

“Looks like you've got a tiger by the tail,” Cordy said.

“I'm in all the way.” Rafferty pushed his chips into the middle of the table to join hers. He knew he had this one.

By now, everyone else had wandered back over to see what was going on. They were sipping coffee and snacking on the cookies Lissette had brought and speculating on what each player had in their hand.

“Read 'em and weep. Full house.” He flipped over his cards, reached for the chips, letting the grin he'd been suppressing sweep across his face.

“Not so fast, cowboy.” Lissette laid out her cards. Two sixes in her hand, two on the table. “I believe four of kind beats a full house.”

Cordy let out a whoop.

Prissy applauded. “Go girl.”

“She got you.” Joe slapped him on the shoulder.

Lissette held Rafferty's stare. “As Paul said, Jake was a card shark. Don't you think he taught me a thing or two?”

Rafferty raised his palms, got to his feet. “You got me. I'm out.” He bent at the waist. “I bow to your greatness.”

“As well you should.” She laughed and extended her hand. “Now help me up, my foot's gone to sleep because I was sitting on it to keep myself from bouncing up and down with joy when that six of diamonds showed up.”

He reached out, took Lissy's hand, and as he did he heard Mariah whisper to Joe, “Look how happy he makes her. I swear I never saw her look like that with Jake.”

Chapter Twelve

O
n Saturday morning after the poker game, Lissette got up at her usual time and set about perfecting the recipes she'd decided upon as her new bakery offerings. She caught herself humming Maggie Walters's “Real Life Cowboy” and realized that for a few minutes there, she'd been caught up in the zone of baking bliss.

It felt nice, this flash moment of happiness.

A knock sounded on her back door.
Rafferty. I've got a cowboy in my backyard
. Her heart gave a jolt that was beginning to feel all too familiar.

She went to let him in. “What are you doing here?”

“Am I too early? I've been out to the acreage and trained Slate for a couple of hours. He's looking sharp, Lissy.” Rafferty's face lit up. “I really think he's got a good chance to take a purse.”

He moved forward and she had no choice but to step aside and let him in or he was going to plow right into her. He rubbed his palms together. “I'm ready to start building your Web site.”

“I thought we left that up in the air.”

“We did, but it's time to get moving.”

Those cowboys. Once they got something in their heads it was a done deal.

“Kyle still asleep?” he asked, headed for the cabinet where the coffee cups were housed as if he owned the place.

“Yes.” She wrapped her arms around herself, unnerved by just how cozy things were getting between them. “He was pretty tuckered out after last night.”

“He had a good time.” Rafferty's gaze met hers. “I did too. I like your friends.”

“They like you.”

He took out two mugs, poured them both a cup of coffee, and without even asking, put two teaspoons of sugar and a dollop of milk in hers, just the way she liked it. He'd been paying attention. That unnerved her even more. “So about the Web site. I'm thinking keep it simple.”

“Me too. No wait. Stop. I haven't agreed to this yet.”

“Use my skills while you have a chance. I won't be around forever.”

There. That was exactly the problem. He was winning her over, charming her, and soon he'd be gone. “You're pretty good at this, huh?”

“Prepare to be dazzled.”

“Now you're just being cocky.”

“You like that about me.”

“Oh-ho, here comes the cowboy bragging.”

“It's only braggin' if you can't back it up, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart.

That simple word stilled something inside her. As if a loudly ticking clock had suddenly stopped, leaving everything in mysterious silence.

“Hmm. We'll see.”

“You seem skeptical.”

“I know how men like to blow smoke—”

“There you go with blanket statements. Don't reduce me to a label, Lissy.”

She liked it that he was no longer coddling her as he'd done the first two days he'd been here. The kid gloves were off. He no longer treated her like a victim of circumstances. Not the widow of a soldier. Not the mother of a deaf child. But a woman. He was challenging her, teasing her, showing her another side of his personality, and she liked it.

A lot.

She woke Kyle up and fed him breakfast, and then put in an Elmo DVD for him to watch. She hated using the television set for a babysitter, but they wouldn't get anything done with him crawling all over them.

“Turn on the closed captioning for him,” Rafferty suggested.

“He can't read yet.”

“No, but it's a good habit to get into.”

He was right.

Just as when they'd Skyped Guillermo, Lissette had to sit right beside him so they could both see the computer screen. His delicious masculine scent invaded her nose, took her hostage with its pleasant potency, and his shoulder—mother of all things holy—his broad shoulder brushed lightly against her arm as he leaned over and tapped a URL into the search box on the browser.

Lissette gulped, closed her eyes, tried to fight off the heat twining through her at the lightness of his touch. It should not feel this good. She should not be making such a big deal out of innocent body contact.

“There we go,” he said, and leaned away, giving her some breathing room.

Yes. That was better. No touching.

Why then did she feel robbed?

The computer screen filled with a high-tech video of a man riding a horse. Not just any man, she realized, but Rafferty decked out in full cowboy regalia—Levi's, cowboy boots, double-yoked plaid shirt, chaps, and a lariat slung over the horn of the horse's saddle.

Seeing him like that made her heart go pitter-pat. She so loved the sight of a cowboy at work. Here was her secret fantasy, the one she'd thought she was getting when she married Jake too soon after meeting him.

Those romantic notions had led her astray before. It was nothing but a myth. Still, she couldn't shake the way he made her feel. Turned on and ashamed of it. She shifted uncomfortably on the couch, shot him a sideways glance and caught him looking at her.

His stare was steadfast, curious.

Quickly, she yanked her gaze back to the screen.

The Web site was slick and polished. It looked like a professional Web designer had done it. Rafferty's voice narrated the recording. He spoke of his techniques for training horses. How he eschewed rough training practices in favor of a gentle touch. Lissette fell into the narrative. His pitch made her long to visit the ranch. She wanted to ride horses, to teach Kyle to ride.

“You built this site yourself?” she asked in awe.

“Yup.”

“How did you learn how to do it?”

“When I first started, I was on a shoestring budget. It's amazing what you can learn when you put your mind to it.”

“Where did you learn HTML?”

“Self-taught. Got books from the library.”

“Is there anything you don't know how to do?”

“There's plenty of things I don't know how to do, but I learn best by breaking things down to their basic components in order to reassemble them. Take things one step at a time and it will all work out.”

“You're detail oriented.”

He shrugged. “I suppose.”

“I'm more big picture. I imagine what I want, then start making it happen. Like with a cake. I visualize the finished product, then I backtrack from there to find the steps to get to where I need to be.”

“Organic,” he said.

“What?”

“Your process. You're more organic. I'm step-by-step. You let things happen as they come.”

Lissette dared to meet his eyes again. She was getting into this deeper with every passing moment and the thing of it was, she liked it. Liked being with Rafferty. Liked his approach. Liked the way he made her feel.

And that's what was so upsetting.

“Let's get down to brass tacks,” he said. “You visualize what you want your Web site to look like and I'll get you a URL and we'll progress from there.”

An hour and a half later, they were deeply into setting up Lissette's Web site. Rafferty had already completed the basic template design and they were going through the trial and error process of finding the right images and color scheme. Lissette had kept a photograph portfolio of the pastries she baked, so now it was about showcasing her work in the best possible light.

They tried out different color combinations. She'd point to the palette and he'd put it up. Then one or the other of them would shake their heads, and he would discard it.

If she were doing something like this with Jake, they would have been bickering constantly as he would have questioned every decision she made until she just gave in and let Jake have his way. But Rafferty tried out everything she suggested without offering an opinion first. He patiently allowed her to experiment and stretch her wings.

And then she went and spoiled the peace by noticing how they were breathing in tandem, simultaneously pulling in air, letting it out in slow, steady exhales. Calm. His breathing not only calmed her, but regulated hers.

The rhythm was hypnotic. Sexual. Almost like foreplay.

She was taking on his breathing pattern. Letting him lead the way, just as she always had with Jake. Rafferty's way was more subtle, but clearly more insidious. He might not be outwardly trying to control her, but she had surrendered her power to him all the same.

Disconcerted, Lissette broke the pattern. She held her breath, waiting to exhale when he was inhaling.

Rafferty stopped breathing too. He looked over at her, his stare startling, bold, and intimate. A sharp crackling of erotic energy shot from him to her and back again. The hairs on her forearm lifted. She shifted on the couch cushion, trying to put some distance between them. He was too close. Things were moving much too fast. She did not want to be on this thrill ride after all. She let her gaze drift back to the computer screen, assessing the latest mock-up.

“Looking good,” he murmured, but he was not studying her homepage. She could feel the heat radiating off his body. He was studying her. “Real good.”

Those last words were spoken so softly, she wasn't sure she'd heard him correctly.

Real good.

Closing her eyes, she willed herself not to shiver, but quickly opened them again. “Nice.”

He reached out and put a hand on her knee. His touch seemed to burn right through her pants and she felt him as acutely as if he'd stroked her bare skin.

“I need to stretch my legs,” he said. “Clear my head. I'm getting cross-eyed staring at the computer screen. You want something to drink?”

She nodded.

He stretched, lifting his arms over his head. His shirt rose up, revealing a peek at his tanned, muscular torso, and her mouth went instantly dry. It was probably because all the moisture in her body was pooling in a fine stream of perspiration between her breasts. The room wasn't hot, but the man in front of her surely was.

The Elmo DVD had finished and the television screen was blank. Kyle had fallen asleep on the floor, his thumb in his mouth. She thought about moving him to his bed; he'd probably wake up in the process. No harm letting him finish his nap on the floor.

Rafferty came back from the kitchen with two cans of Dr Pepper. She didn't drink soda a lot, but she had it on hand because one of the offerings in her Texas-theme bakery menu was a Dr Pepper pecan praline cupcake. Dr Pepper had been invented in Waco, Texas, and made for a supremely moist cake.

He popped the pull top from the can and walked across the living room toward her. He moved with an easy-legged lope that came across as a slow pace, but was surprisingly brisk.

The soda was cold and damp in her hand. She took a sip. It was very sweet, but refreshing, and she drank it faster than she should have. Without ever taking his eyes off her, Rafferty tilted his head and took a long swallow from his Dr Pepper.

Her gaze tracked from his lips to throat. She watched his Adam's apple work, and this time, she shivered. Perspiring one minute, shivering the next. Was she coming down with something?

Anxiously, she shifted her attention away from him, looking for something else to focus on. She surveyed the Web site.

It looked simple and beige and . . .

Stark.

He'd used the color palette she'd selected. This wasn't his fault, but hers.

“What's the matter,” Rafferty asked, coming to sit back down beside her.

“It's blah.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“I assumed you were going for the crisp, professional look—clean lines, fresh, classic. Something that will make your photographs pop when we get them all uploaded.”

“The Web site looks so generic. Like it could be any Web page. I want it to be warm and welcoming and inviting.”

“Like you,” he said huskily. “You were playing it safe when what you really wanted was to let your personality shine through.”

“Yeah.” She ran her palms over the tops of her thighs. “That's it.”

“No problem,” Rafferty said. “I can change it in an instant. Speak up, Lissy. Tell me what you really want. I'm listening.”

“You don't mind changing it?”

“Why would I mind?”

“I'm wasting your time—”

“Shh. Consider my time as your time. What do you really want?” he asked, challenge in his eyes.

She gnawed her bottom lip. “I don't know.”

He took her by the shoulders and turned her on the couch to face him. He placed his hand over her heart. It thumped erratically. She was sure he could tell exactly how much he affected her. Who could miss the wild galloping?

“Listen to your instincts,” he murmured.

“Yellow,” she said. “I really like yellow. It's bright and cheery, but Jake didn't like it so he wouldn't let me paint the kitchen yellow. He said it was too bright. He didn't want the walls looking like one of those yellow smiley face stickers.”

“Yellow it is.” Rafferty tapped a few commands on the keyboard and boom.

Sunflower yellow replaced the beige. Just looking at the color made her smile.

“What contrasting colors do you want?” he asked.

“Green.”

“Any particular shade?”

“Olive.”

The color appeared on the page and it looked so great she hugged herself.

“Considering these colors I have a suggestion for the font, but if you don't like it, please say so.”

“Okay.”

He changed the font color from black to a dark, rich burgundy. The combination of those colors transported Lissette back to the Loire Valley French kitchen where Madame Boulanger had taken the students for a two-week field trip during Lissette's pastry school education. Those two weeks had been some of the happiest of her life and she'd almost forgotten about them. Now, every time she looked at her Web site, she could remember the happy woman she'd once been.

“I love it!” She put her palms together. “L. O. V. E. Love it.”

“Keep in mind I can always change it if you don't.”