It's a Christmas Thing (The Christmas Tree Ranch #2)(44)

“Maggie’s good at talking people into things, isn’t she?” Tracy remembered Maggie’s phone call and her pitch that she and Rush should become a couple. Maggie had meant well, but there were secrets she didn’t know.

“Maggie’s a master of persuasion,” Rush said, chuckling. “That’s why she’s the mayor. Now, if you’ll come to the ball as my date, I’ll really have a lot to thank her for.”

“As your date?” Tracy wasn’t dating yet. Didn’t he understand that?

“Well, technically it would be our date, since we’d be taking Clara. If I could walk into the gym with two beautiful girls on my arm, I’d be the envy of every man there.”

So it wasn’t a real date. That made the decision easier. “All right,” Tracy said. “You, me, and the princess. It sounds like good, old-fashioned fun.”

“Thank you.” He sounded relieved. “I’d like us to spend more time together, Tracy. If that doesn’t suit you, you can always say no. But it won’t stop me from trying.”

Tracy didn’t reply, but she could feel her emotions pulling her one way, then the other. It was as if she’d been handed a wrapped gift—a gift she was afraid to open.

They had reached the pasture fence. Rush took a flashlight out of his pocket and used its powerful beam to scan the pasture. There was an open shelter for the cattle along the side fence, but tonight, most of the cows and their large calves were still grazing. He took the time to locate all of them. “All present and accounted for,” he said.

His hand rested on the small of her back as they followed Bucket toward the barn. The contact sent forbidden tingles through Tracy’s body but she didn’t pull away. Being touched by him awakened needs that were too powerful to name.

The barn was dark inside. Rush’s flashlight illuminated a wall of hay bales stacked along the back and a row of stalls on either side. The air smelled of hay and the warm, pungent aroma of horses.

Something large snorted and moved in the shadows. Rush trained the light into a roomy box stall. A massive silver-gray draft horse nickered and came toward the gate. “Here, you old beggar.” Rush fished a carrot out of his pocket and laid it on the palm of his hand. The horse took it almost daintily, crunching with its big teeth.

“This is Chip,” Rush said. “His brother in the next stall is Patch. They pull Santa’s sleigh in the Christmas parade.” He moved on to the neighboring stall. The horse that thrust its head over the gate for a treat had a white patch on its forehead.

“They’re magnificent,” Tracy said. “Can I pet him?”

“Go ahead. These two are as gentle as lambs.” Rush guided her hand to the horse’s neck.

Tracy stroked the satiny coat, feeling the solid muscles beneath. “Beautiful,” she whispered.

“So are you.” His hand cupped her chin, tilting her face upward for a long, dizzying kiss.





Chapter 10


The kiss triggered a surge of sensual heat—a heat that flowed like a spring thaw through Tracy’s body, warming every part of her. Her arms slid around Rush’s neck, pulling him down to her, deepening the contact of his lips on hers.

He kept the kiss tender, almost gentle—but that slow-burning flame was kindling a blaze inside her. She stretched on tiptoe, hungry for more.

Whoa! the warning voice in her head cried out. You’re not ready for this. You can’t make a fool of yourself the first time a man kisses you. . . .

Tracy forced herself to listen. It made sense to be cautious. There were red flags going up all over the place—her grief over Steve’s death, Rush’s recent divorce, and the fact that she wouldn’t be able to give him children. And that was just to name a few.

Summoning her will, she tore herself free and spun away from him. They stood face to face, both of them breathing hard.

“Tracy—” he began.

“No. I’m sorry. I can’t do this, Rush. I’m not ready.”

One dark eyebrow lifted. His mouth tightened. He shook his head, visibly bringing his frustration under control. “Tracy, I don’t know whether to believe your words or believe that sensational kiss. I think you’re readier than you say you are. But if you feel pressured, I’ll do my best to be a gentleman and respect that.”

“Thanks.” So why am I aching for him to kiss me again?

“Still friends?” she asked, knowing she sounded like a fool.

“Friends,” he said. “Can I drop Clara off tomorrow? And will you still be my date to the Christmas Ball?”

She forced herself to smile. “Why not—if we can pretend this never happened?”

“No problem. If you’re not ready, you’re not ready. But don’t expect me to wait too long.”

“That’s just the problem. I might never be ready. There are things you don’t know—” Should she tell him? Now would be the time. Waiting would only make things more painful.

“Then let’s give it time,” he said. “For now, we can be friends and enjoy a few laughs together. If anything changes, fine. If not . . .” He shrugged. “That’s life for you. Now let’s get back in the house before my partners get the wrong idea.”

With Bucket tagging behind them, he ushered her back inside through the kitchen. Conner and Travis were loading the dishwasher. “Back so soon?” Conner asked, glancing up.