Holding Out for Christmas (The Christmas Tree Ranch #3)(37)
Rising, she took her old guitar out of its place in the corner. She’d started a song in her head on the drive from Nashville. But she had yet to get all the words down or set them to music. As long as she had the time, maybe the right ideas would come to her.
After tightening the strings to tune them, she sat on a stool and began strumming a few chords.
*
At 5:45, when Conner rang the doorbell, Megan was ready and waiting for him. Dressed in a black cashmere sweater, jeans, and boots, set off by dangly silver earrings, she looked delicious enough to devour on the spot.
“Here, let me help you with that.” Her coat was in her hand. Conner held it for her while she slipped it on. The subtle fragrance of lavender teased his senses. He breathed her in, savoring the aroma. “You clean up like a million dollars,” he said.
She laughed. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Let’s hope those steaks are as good as you say they are. I’ve been looking forward to this all day.”
“So have I. But not just for the steaks.” He let his hand rest on the small of her back as he guided her to the Jeep. He’d done a lot of thinking since this morning. In the end, he’d come to realize that Travis was right—he’d be a fool to let this fabulous woman go, or to lose her by playing stupid games.
The challenge now would be how to end the game he was still playing—and how to do it without driving Megan away.
“So, did you hear any more news from Travis and Maggie?” she asked as they headed north along the highway. “Is that big wedding on or off?”
Conner laughed. “Travis came to his senses. It’s on. I’m sure you’ll be getting an invitation. Did I tell you I’m going to be Travis’s best man?”
“Really? Well, if I get an invitation, I’ll look forward to seeing you in a tux—unless all the women mobbing you are blocking my view.”
“Ouch. The only woman I want mobbing me is you.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said. “Where’s the ceremony going to be?”
“The Community Church. It’s the only traditional place with enough seating. Maggie’s got it reserved for December twenty-second, two days after the Christmas Ball.” He paused, giving her a sidelong glance. “I know you said you wouldn’t be going to the ball, but I keep hoping you’ll change your mind and be my date.”
“And spoil your chances with that sexy singer?” Megan shook her head. “Not on your life. I’ve got someplace else to be.”
Conner held back a sigh. Here they were, playing the same silly game. He was ready to end it. But if he called her bluff now, she might be too angry to have dinner with him—a sad waste of a lovely evening. Confession time would have to wait.
*
Darkness had fallen by the time they reached the restaurant, a rambling, rustic log structure with open beams overhead and a blazing stone fireplace in its center. Candles glowed on the tables. White lights twinkled on a small tree in one corner. Country Christmas music, turned low enough for quiet conversation, played in the background. The air smelled of pine, fresh bread, and sizzling steaks.
Megan had dined at more upscale spots in Nashville. But so far, at least, this place deserved high marks for coziness and taste. The young hostess showed them to the secluded booth Conner had reserved. He seated Megan before hanging their coats on a nearby rack.
By the time he returned, Megan was scanning the menu while a wine steward poured a sparkling cabernet into two goblets. “I hope you don’t mind my choosing the wine,” Conner said. “I took the liberty of ordering ahead to make sure they had it in stock.”
Megan took a sip. “It’s perfect,” she said. “You have excellent taste.” She’d almost forgotten that Conner was no simple cowboy. As a champion athlete and celebrity, he’d moved in wealthy circles and acquired some sophistication. He would be at home almost anywhere.
Conner glanced up at the steward with a word of thanks.
“You’re welcome, sir,” the young man said. “Your server will be with you in a moment to take your order.”
Megan studied the menu. “What’s good here?”
“Everything. But I like the rib eye.”
“Then I’ll try that. Medium rare.” Megan pushed the menu aside and sipped her wine, gazing at him over the rim of the glass. “You know, I’d have been happy with a burger and shake at Buckaroo’s. You didn’t have to go first class to thank me for pouring cups of cocoa.”
He gave her a smile. “You deserve better than first class, and I’m not doing this to thank you. It’s my way of telling you that you’re a special woman, Megan. I want to see more of you. A lot more, if I have my way.”
“What about your dream woman? The one you’re holding out for at the Christmas Ball?” Megan forced herself to ask the question. She could feel herself falling for Conner. But if he was still stuck on Lacy, there could be no hope for them.
Conner hesitated a little too long before he spoke. “It’s like having a crush on somebody in a movie. She might be pretty, even exciting. But she isn’t real. And she can’t compete with a warm, caring, flesh-and-blood woman, especially the one I was holding in my arms last night.”
Reaching across the table, he captured her free hand in his. “Come to the Christmas Ball with me, Megan. Whatever’s keeping you away, cancel it. I want to walk into that gym with you on my arm and show the whole town that we’re—”