Holly Jolly Cowboy (The Wyoming Cowboy #7)(40)

He took it from her and brought it to his mouth, his gaze locked on hers. Chewed. Then held it out to her. “It’s amazing.”

Holly exhaled, the sigh full of relief. She didn’t take the cookie from him, just nibbled on it as he held it. A slight smile touched her face, and she relaxed. “Okay, it tastes fine. I think I was just panicking.”

“I’ve got your back,” he told her, even though it was a lie, wasn’t it? Because if he really had her back, he’d have never sabotaged her in the first place.



* * *



? ? ?

Holly headed into the party with a bright smile on her face, though her nerves were still a little shot. Becca greeted her with excitement, thrilled at the cookies. She hugged Holly twice, beaming, and her daughter, Libby, insisted on trying every single cookie.

Everything was fine. Holly didn’t need to worry. Just because she’d messed up once didn’t mean that she was a terrible baker. Adam had calmed her nerves, walked her back from the panic she was feeling. She was so darn grateful to him. For a man that didn’t want to have a girlfriend, he was already her best date ever.

He looked amazing, she decided, glancing across the room at him after the last of the cookies were laid out and Becca had handed her an envelope. He stood half a head taller than most everyone in the room, and the tuxedo made him look sharp and elegant. Classy. Which was ironic, given that he had a mouth as salty as her own and was at home on the ranch. It was a good thing they’d made it clear that it wasn’t a date, because if it was, she’d be preening over how handsome her man was. Oh well. Holly was used to disappointment when it came to dating. It never seemed to work out, and this was just another example of such things.

Not that they had dated. They were enemies. Coworkers forced to endure one another through the holidays.

She turned and glanced around the party. All the faces here were familiar. There were Cass and Eli, who worked at a nearby ranch. Annie and Dustin, her husband. Annie’s arms were full of her daughter, Morgan, her belly big with her next one. There was Amy, a local schoolteacher, who was dating Caleb, one of Hank’s brothers. There was old Clyde and his wife, Hannah, who ran the town’s only hotel. In a town like this, she knew everyone because they all came by the restaurant. She knew who was a good tipper, who was down on his luck, and who had food allergies.

It was like a big family. No wonder she couldn’t get a date, she thought with amusement. You didn’t date family.

Her gaze landed on Geraldine and her uncle Jonathan, who owned the town’s bakery. Hot humiliation flooded through her. Oh god. If they found out she’d made the cookies for the party, they were bound to make a crack or two about it. They’d tell everyone in the room, and then she’d have to endure the teasing and jokes and . . . she didn’t think she could.

Holly turned away in a panic, looking for someone to attack with a distracting conversation . . . or just a way to run out of the room. Instead, she saw Adam approaching with a plastic cup in his hand.

“You okay? You look like you saw an ex-boyfriend.” Adam arched an eyebrow at her.

Man, did he have to look so damn dashing? She liked seeing him in his regular baseball cap and flannels, but for some reason, with his hair combed into exacting detail like this and his ears sticking out slightly, she couldn’t take her eyes off him. “Not an ex,” she murmured, moving closer to him. No one would care if she talked to her date, after all. “The owner of the bakery here in town. She’s going to call me out on how shitty my cake was at the contest last week.”

“If she says anything, I’ll provide a distraction,” he whispered, leaning in. “How do you feel about me setting the tablecloth on fire?”

She gave a horrified giggle. “I’d hate it, because I worked too hard on those cookies.”

“Fair.” He pretended to consider his surroundings. “Since we’re at a salon, could I fake a hair emergency?”

Now he was just being ridiculous. She kept laughing. “You don’t have enough hair.”

Adam moved in, as if whispering a secret. “Perhaps that’s the emergency.”

Holly giggled harder, her hands on the tight bodice of her dress. “Stop, you’ll make me split my seams.”

“A better emergency than mine,” he admitted, giving her that curled-edge, slow smile. He held the cup out to her. “This is for you.”

“What is it?”

“Alcoholic eggnog. I’m told it’s pretty good.”

She paused. “Oh, but I volunteered to be the designated driver since I made you come here and all.”

He shook his head and nudged the cup toward her again. “And I’ve decided that since you took care of me while I was sick, you deserve a night to unwind. I think you should enjoy yourself. I’ll handle the driving.”

For a nemesis, that was awfully sweet of him. She took the cup and tasted it, and lord, that was divine. She’d never been much of a drinker despite working in a restaurant-slash-tavern. There was just too much to get done every day. But the thought of kicking back and having a few drinks at the party was wonderfully appealing, and she took a larger sip and then smiled up at him.

Adam slung a casual arm over her shoulders, talking in that low voice again so only she could hear. “You might have told me about the dress code for this party.”