She turned back to Callen. “I appreciate you helping Sundown out with the particulars.”
“Well, he had his mind set on it.”
Watching her with his horse and her own had Callen’s mind set.
“See that up there?” He pointed to the ceiling.
She looked up, saw nothing but beams. “I don’t see anything.”
“That mistletoe hanging down.”
She looked up again. “There’s no mistletoe up there.”
“You must not be looking in the right place.”
But he was, he thought. He surely was.
He pulled her in.
No accidental lip bump this time. This time he meant it, and made sure she knew it. The hands on her shoulders slid down her sides to her waist, cinched there, while his mouth took hers the way he’d imagined. Slow, sure, strong.
And as he’d imagined, she didn’t pull back, but met him head-on.
She’d grown prettier, he thought, and her lips were full and warm and far from shy. Her body pressed against his until he knew the shape of her would stay imprinted on his mind.
When her hand came up, gripped the back of his neck, he felt every cell in his body leap.
She’d known this was coming, sooner or later. Too much heat, too many sparks under those companionable rides not to lead to this. While she’d wondered how she’d react, wondered if she’d make the move or he would, she’d thought herself fully prepared.
She’d thought wrong.
It was bigger and bolder and brighter than anything she’d foreseen. Her body’s reaction stunned her as she felt herself quiver, at least inside.
He tasted of heat and secrets, smelled of horses and leather and man, and his mouth showed skills she’d underestimated.
When he started to draw away, she pulled him back.
He’d started it. So she’d finish it.
When she was right on the edge of breathless, she pushed him back. “Mistletoe, my ass.”
“I might’ve been mistaken about it.” He glanced up again, seemed to consider, then met her eyes. More blue than gray now, she noted. Those hints of lightning through the storm. “But I wanted to give us both a preview of what’s coming.”
“And what’s coming, Skinner?”
“You know as well as I do, but we’ll go there after Abe’s back this spring. I can wait.”
She turned to take her coat off the hook outside the stall. “You sound pretty damn cocksure of yourself.”
“I’m sure with more than that part.”
Damn it, he made her laugh. “Maybe, but I’ve got something to say about it.”
“You just did.”
Eyeing him warily, she put on her coat. She wasn’t certain if she wanted to fight or find an empty stall and really finish what he had started.
“Maybe I was just feeling a little Christmas spirit.”
“We can test that out.” He took a step toward her. She held up a hand.
“I think it’s best we leave this where it is for right now.”
He just slid his hands into his pockets. “Like I said. I can wait.”
“April’s a ways off. We can both change our minds before then.”
“I don’t think so. But we’ll see come spring.”
“All right.” She’d consider it a kind of agenda. Come spring, they’d see. “Are you coming in?”
“I’m going to go clean up some first.”
“Then I’ll see you after you do.” She strode down the concrete. “You know, Skinner,” she said, without turning around, “I might sleep with you just because of your horse. Keep that in mind.”
As the door closed behind her, Callen looked at Sundown. “You’re not why.”
Sundown proved a horse could guffaw.
*
Linda-Sue’s wedding, even with the additional pomp and circumstance, proved a major success—and a big, fat feather in Jessica’s cap. Or, at least, in the flat-brimmed Stetson Bodine had given her for Christmas.
She handled the bride and her party, assigned Will to the groom and his, and with Chelsea’s help tackled the biggest issue.
The mother of the bride.
From arrivals to wardrobe emergencies, from flowers to decor to music—and a harpist—the wedding kept Jessica and her team scrambling, adjusting, consoling, cheerleading, and coordinating for three solid days.
The wedding rolled right into the New Year’s Eve package: the menu of activities, the entertainment, and the big, rowdy party.
She didn’t argue when Bodine ordered her to take two full days off afterward, and slept through nearly half of them.
Once, popping awake at two A.M., foggy and disoriented, she got out of bed, glancing out the window on her way to her little kitchen for a bottle of water. She noticed an unfamiliar pickup on the road in front of the Village rather than in the designated parking area.
Idly, she wondered if Chelsea—her nearest neighbor—had an overnight guest, and why they had parked on the road.
But when she came back, the truck was gone. Without giving it another thought, she slid back into bed and sleep.
The early January lull drove straight into the writers conference—another feather in her cap—and that slammed straight into the Snow Sculpture Extravaganza.
Every time another booking came in, Rory bounced into Jessica’s office to do a victory dance.
Local media interest didn’t hurt a thing.
With the field behind her filled with people, horse-drawn sleighs jingling by holding even more, and younger kids taking pony rides in the near paddock, Bodine did an on-site interview for local TV.
“We’re thrilled to host our first annual Snow Sculpture Extravaganza here at Bodine Resort. We have guests from all over the country, and from Canada. We have a couple honeymooning here from England who decided to participate today.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Callen hitch a kid onto his back while the boy waited for his turn on a pony, and wondered where he’d gotten that smooth way with kids.
But she kept her attention on the reporter, answered questions.
“I want to say everybody associated with the Bodine Resort worked hard, really got into the spirit to make this event something special, to make it fun for everyone participating. And we’re happy to see so many of our friends and neighbors joining in, either as contestants or just to watch the show. We’re pleased to have Anna Langtree and the Mountain Men providing entertainment this afternoon from two to three-thirty and again this evening at nine, in the Mill.”
When she wrapped it up, Bodine wandered over to Jessica.
“You’re great at that,” Jessica commented. “Getting the message and details across while looking and sounding relaxed at the same time.”
“It’s just talking. You know, some of these are starting to look pretty impressive. Looks like a whole snow family being built over there, a couple of castles going up. I think that may be a horse—a really big one. And … I don’t know what that is, right out at twelve o’clock.”
“It looks like a big snake.”
“Not fond of snakes, but it takes all kinds.” Smiling, she tapped the brim of Jessica’s hat. “You know, that suits you.”
“I really kind of love it. Who knew? Well, you. If anybody had suggested a year ago I’d be in Montana, wearing a Stetson and watching somebody build a snake out of snow, I’d’ve laughed until I broke a rib. And here I am.”