A Snow Country Christmas (The Carsons of Mustang Creek #4)(25)

Her eyes were full of sympathy and she reached over to touch his hand. “I had no idea. I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t tell anyone. But you aren’t just anyone. I thought maybe you should know.”

Raine was predictably direct. “Is that why you asked me if I’d ever considered having more children?”

Was it?

He still wasn’t sure why he’d asked that personal question out of the blue. He did what he did best and equivocated. “I asked because you and Daisy seem to have a wonderful relationship. I wouldn’t mind a second cup of coffee, but I can get it for myself.” He stood, cup in hand. “When’s your birthday?”

She clearly knew he was deflecting, but went along with it. “The thirtieth.”

He hadn’t planned on staying that long, but maybe he should change his mind. “We need to do something special then.”

“Like?” Her brows went up.

“Paris? Rome? How about Key West? We could watch the famous sunset over the ocean, and escape the snow. You choose.”

*

No one should look so gorgeous in the morning, bedhead and all.

Mick could be stuck on the cover of a magazine in just his boxers and it would sell a million copies. She’d be the first one in line to buy an issue.

Raine waited until he returned with his coffee before she’d formulated her response. “Those are all nice options, but I can’t just pick up and jet off with you, so right here would be better if you have the time.”

She was touched.

In the head.

Don’t fall in love with this man.

Too late.

“I can make the time.” He leaned back and his smile was boyish. “I certainly have it coming to me. And it doesn’t hurt being my own boss, I suppose.”

“I work harder than most people I know and I’m my own boss, too. I don’t think I could make the time.”

“Sweetheart, if you don’t think I work hard, think again.”

It wasn’t like she didn’t know he did. This was a pointless argument, and probably one she was instigating in order to distract herself from worrying thoughts of love and forever after. She smoothed her fingers across the fringe of the placemat. “I know for a fact you do. What I don’t know is what you want from our...er...friendship.” She’d searched for a word and settled on that one, though as soon as she said it she was fairly sure a kindergartener would have chosen something more sophisticated.

Apparently he agreed, his mouth curving in amusement. “I think after last night we’re a bit more than friends, don’t you? I’m not positive what you want either, so we’ll have to figure it out together.”

He’d done a lot better than she had in the words department.

Jangles strolled into the kitchen and made a familiar sound. It was something between a growl and a screech. Mick looked startled and slightly afraid for his life. “What was that? Is he sick?”

“He wants to be fed. He’s very vocal about it and emits that special noise so there’s no misunderstanding. If it’s any consolation, I wondered the same thing the first time I heard it. I assume, Mr. Boardroom, you can use a can opener? While you do the honors, I’ll go get Alice. The food is in the pantry and the opener in that drawer right there.” She pointed and got up. “I’d move fast if I were you. He can get cranky if it takes too long. I’m going to go put on my coat. When you’re done, put on something warm and meet me out front.”

“Cranky?”

“Very.”

The smooth, urbane Mick Branson could get out of a chair and scramble across a room with impressive speed when faced with a large demanding cat. Jangles had his solid behind already on the floor by his bowl and his body language said he meant business. Raine was still laughing when she slipped into her favorite parka and went out back, wading through the snow.

The sleek snowmobile started sweetly. She’d gotten it from a friend of Blythe’s whose husband had unexpectedly passed away, and much like her grandfather’s property, the woman wasn’t going to use it, but didn’t want to sell his beloved possession. When Raine mentioned to Blythe that she was thinking of getting a sled—it was what her father had always called his snowmobile—suddenly she had one. The woman refused money for it, so Raine had done a graphic image of the vehicle and framed it as a gift.

She understood entirely not wanting to place monetary value on a possession so near and dear to someone you loved, but giving it to someone who would appreciate it was completely different.

Mick would appreciate the cabin property, especially on a day like this that Mother Nature had handcrafted to show it off. Brilliant blue skies, deep snow, and the mountains looked surreal, like something from a fairy tale. The skiers would be in seventh heaven, that was for sure. This was pure powder, the kind they lived for. Grace would be busy today, with the week between holidays and the resort always jammed full in this sort of weather.

When she pulled around, Mick was already on the sidewalk—probably to escape Jangles—and when she stopped he came down the steps and jumped on behind her. “Why do I think I’m going to need to hang on for dear life?”

“I like speed,” she said. “Remember last night?”

He wrapped his arms around her waist and said exactly the right thing. “I’ll never forget it. I trust you, so go for it.”