Chapter 6
Dallas
I wake up in a bedroom at the bunkhouse earlier than usual. After I came back last night, I spent hours thinking about Ginger and those thoughts made it hard to fall asleep.
My insomnia wasn’t caused just because I had a raging hard-on for her beautiful body but also because she’s carrying a big hurt and that hurts me.
Her heart has sharp edges where I suspect someone broke love and left all the fragments behind to cut her.
I want to help her through whatever it is. I want to bring her joy and carry her burden so it’s not so heavy for her.
I crawl from the bed and dress, then go find my boots and coat. Normally, I’d nose around the farmhouse kitchen to see what kind of delicious breakfast Mary’s putting on the table, but not this time.
My goal is to get to Ginger. The sooner, the better.
I hop into the rental car and shiver in spite of my thick coat when the heater takes its sweet time chasing away the cold.
I hope the heat was left on at the community center last night.
Otherwise, it’ll hit the forties in that building.
I don’t like the idea of her being cold.
Before, I’ve always enjoyed the drive into town but today, it’s taking too long to get where I want to be.
Then I see her rental car parked outside the hardware store and swing into a parking space there.
She’s standing in an aisle by the big window wearing a green sweater the same color as that animated cartoon guy who stole Christmas. Part of me wonders if the choice was intentional. Because it’s clear she’s missing holiday cheer.
The bell rings over the door as I stride in and the owner calls out a hearty Merry Christmas and says what a beautiful time of year the holidays are. I see Ginger flinch at his words.
I return the greeting, then walk up next to Ginger, wanting to make her smile. “Miss me?”
She continues looking at paint samples. “It’s too early in the morning for your fantasies.”
“My fantasies kick in any time I see you.”
Her cheeks turn a cute shade of pink, and she sends me a look before she lifts a gallon of paint from the shelf.
I take it from her, and she doesn’t put up a fight. “Just leave it on the counter.” She stops by the register, and I set the paint where she already has rollers and a drip tray.
“I’ll follow you.”
“Follow me? Why?”
“To finish the job. I’d never leave you hanging.”
She mutters under her breath what sounds like “whatever” and finishes checking out.
I follow her and discover I was right about the center being cold. I peel off my coat, drape it around her shoulders, then go adjust the thermostat.
“I’ll warm up as I work.” She clutches the coat lapels like she’s going to take it off.
“In the meantime, it’s cold in here. You get warm while I prep everything.”
She puts her hand on my arm but quickly jerks it away. “Thank you for being considerate, but I’m used to taking care of myself.”
“Before.”
“Before?”
“Before me.”
Ginger removes my coat and pushes it back into my hands. “My goal is to get revenge on you for that dildo incident, not to think of you as someone who’s kind.”
“You can do both. Take your revenge and yet still see the great human being that I am.”
She bends to pry open the lid on the paint can but not before I see her lips quirk into a half smile.
I stoop beside her and put the wooden stir stick into the gallon. “Are you planning on sticking around town a while?” I ask. Because if she is, I’ve got a change of address in my future. I’ll do whatever is necessary to stay wherever she’s at.
She shakes her head. “My hometown is Coyote Bend. I’ll head back there in time for Christmas.”
I’m delighted to hear that our hometowns aren’t far apart. “That’s on the other side of Clover County.”
“You’ve heard of it?”
“I’ve visited there.”
She frowns, “You don’t live in Clover, do you?”
Everyone knows that little town is bad news. “No. I’m in Lucky River. I own a ranch there.” I lift the paint can and pour some in the tray, then fit a roller onto a roller extension.
We work together for hours and as exertion warms her, she removes the green sweater to reveal a pullover shirt with a green and white flower pattern.
Finally, we get the wall done and while the second coat of paint is drying, I step back to admire the job. “You can’t tell where it was repaired or where the new paint begins.”
“My dad taught me how to do this kind of stuff,” she says. “He also taught me how to change a tire and the oil in my car. I’ve always been a bit of a tomboy.” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.
And it’s how she says the word tomboy like someone suggested she was lacking in some way that bothers me. “You’re capable and sexy. That’s a hell of a combination.”
A dazed expression dawns on her face. “You think I’m sexy?”
“I do.”
Her teeth pull on her lower lip and hold it.
“Very sexy.” I grin as I gather the brushes and rollers to rinse them. “What’s next?”
She waves her hand around the room. “I have to get started on the party décor. Last night, after I went back to my room at Silver Bell Inn, I worked late on the layout.”
I look around the bare room, struggling to picture it looking festive in time for the party. “What do you have in mind?”
“I’m going to make this look like a giant gingerbread house. I’ve got the fake brickwork already and the lollipops in cellophane arrived this morning. I also picked up the material to create gum drops and some cinnamon-scented pinecones to make everything smell like Christmas.”
As she’s talking, she’s moving around the room and gesturing, clearly seeing it in her mind’s eye. “I’m using foam sealer to make it look like icing is between the bricks. I’ll make those from recycled cardboard and use a wall safe attachment so it doesn’t affect the fresh paint.”
“So when you’re done, it’ll look like everyone who’s here is inside the gingerbread house?”
“Exactly!”
I rub my hands together. “Let’s get started.”
Some of her delight dims. “I don’t mean to take up your whole day. I’m sure you want to spend time with—”
I cut her off. “With you.”
She hesitates like she’s weighing her words, “I don’t know exactly what you’re hoping for from me but—”
It’s too soon to tell her that I’m hoping for marriage and kids and forever because I know she’s not anywhere close to being on the same page.
And I don’t want to say anything that might mess this up.
“I’m hoping to spend time with you.” It’s a gentler hint at what I want in the future but it’s also the truth.
“Okay,” she says to my heart’s relief.
Feeling like I’m walking on air, I go out with her to help unload the trunk and backseat of her car. My arms are loaded down with pieces that’ll make up a white picket fence.
“Those will go outside the center on either side of the front door. And so will that Santa mailbox.” I set the pieces down there.
“If you can fasten those fence pieces to the building, I’ll go back in and start working on putting the house walls up.”
She goes in and I make short work of my task so I can get back to her side. Every second that I spend with her only strengthens the desire to remain with her. I hate the thought of the day ending and us having to part ways.
I know I’ve fallen for her quickly but what’s right is right, and the heart knows the way.
When I’m through, I walk back in to catch Ginger on the highest rung of the ladder on her tiptoes trying to hang a giant snowflake above one of the gingerbread house walls.
My heart drops to my stomach and I rush to the ladder, quickly climbing it until I’m beneath her in case she falls. “You’re not tall enough. Why didn’t you call me?”
She drops the hook of the decoration on the side of the ladder and the snowflake spins, glittering as it turns. “This is the last of the main décor. Now all that’s left are the little touches.”
“Why didn’t you call me?” I ask again after she avoids my question.
“Because I’m not used to having help,” she says, twisting on the ladder and coming down a step so our bodies are facing.
I bracket my arms on either side of her. She fits perfectly like the final puzzle piece of my life snapping into place.
“I’m here. You can get used to it.”
She fiddles with the front of her shirt, lifting it way from her sexy body. “It’s warm in here.”
I smell a cinnamon pine scent as she fans the material. My gaze drops to the neckline of it and the smallest peek of cleavage it presents.
I’m warming up too, but for an entirely different reason. “I’ll finish this,” I say, my breath fanning over her skin.
The slightest tremble moves through her body, and her tongue darts out to wet her lips. She’s driving me wild just existing.
“Ginger…”
Her eyes flutter closed.
I lean slowly toward her wanting to taste the heaven of her lips.
Her phone shrills and I silently curse whoever invented the damn things.
She taps two fingers against my chest. “I need to get that.”
I back down the ladder but stay alert in case she loses her footing.
I remember poking fun at my buddy Marshall for how watchful he was over his woman, for the way he hovered wanting to protect her.
Now I get it. When you meet the woman who’s the center of your world, you don’t want anything to happen to her.
Ginger swipes her phone screen and puts it against her ear. “Hi Dad.” She nods. “Yes, everything is fine. No, I’m not working all day and night. I’ve already finished for the day and I’m about to go out to eat with a group of new friends and then we’ll catch a movie.”
Our eyes meet and she looks away. “They just arrived. Yeah. I’ll call you tonight.”
Now I know three things with absolute certainty about the woman who’s captured my heart.
She’s lying to protect her father from worrying.
She’s feeling lonely.
She’s hurting deeply.
And I know three things with absolute certainty about myself.
I’m going to protect her.
I won’t let her be lonely
I won’t let her get hurt again.