by Vivian Arend
Yvette stifled her curiosity and focused on the old man who had settled into a straight-backed chair at the small table and was easing off his work boot and sock.
He folded his arms over his chest and glared daggers. “There.”
A slightly blood-stained piece of fabric was wrapped around his foot, tied in place with strips of rags. Yvette loosened it carefully before whistling at the sight of the wound. “Well, now. That’s a very impressive slice. Let me guess. Axe?”
Another harrumph. “Four days ago. Hit a knot, veered off. Went straight through my damn boot.”
She examined his injury carefully, ignoring the fact he was growling at her more than the dog had. Thankfully, she was able to offer some positive news. “It doesn’t look as if there’s any infection, but it’s deep enough that you should have stitches.”
“You sew me up, then. I ain’t going to town.”
With anyone else, Yvette would have refused. But considering how seldom the man ever went to town, if she didn’t do it, chances were he’d ignore her advice. Without stitches, the chance of future infection went up.
She went to work immediately. Complete silence fell over them except for the rhythmic ticking from an antique cuckoo clock on the far wall. It was strangely comfortable.
Stitched and bandaged, Creighton pulled a clean sock on and jammed his foot back in his boot. “Enough of that. Now, scat. Had enough of you poking and prodding into my business.”
“You’re welcome,” Yvette said primly as she rose to her feet, surprisingly amused at his rudeness. “Always so good to see you, Mr. Reiner.”
It wasn’t until she was driving home that she realized what had amused her the most. He’d been trying to be annoying and shove her away, yet the entire time it had been clear something was on his mind. Something that had allowed him to accept her offer of help.
The less-than-vehement gruffness wasn’t what she had expected. She made a mental note to talk to Josiah and see what else he could suggest going forward. She also considered sneaky ways to get someone with medical training to casually drop in to double-check she hadn’t missed something during her examination.
Her time with Creighton was the biggest distraction she faced that entire day and the next. Which gave her too much time to think about Alex. Think about what they were doing.
Impatience rode her like a wild pony.
Day three, she opened a small, narrow drawer at the very bottom of the right side of the desk to reveal a bottle of wine, a package of spice mix, and a note.
For your next girls’ night out. The back of this card is a recipe for sangria. I’m glad you’ve got good friends in your life.
Saturday lunch seemed to take forever to arrive. She distracted herself the best she could, including taking the longest shower ever, singing “Carol of the Bells” at the top of her lungs along with LeAnn Rimes.
She was sort of reading when a solid knock finally sounded. Yvette shot to her feet, book abandoned, heart pounding with anticipation. She opened the door to discover the cowboy who’d been haunting her dreams standing there in all his muscular glory.
He also had a small bundle of grey fur held easily in one big hand and a sheepish grin on his face.
She shook her head even as she stepped forward to take the kitten from him. “Alex. I’m glad you didn’t stick this in one of the drawers of the cabinet, but you can’t—”
“Whoa. Not a gift. I found it. It was slinking its way beneath your truck, and I didn’t want it to get any ideas about curling up under there.” He glanced to the side of the porch, and his amusement vanished, a crease forming between his brows. “What the hell?”
He stepped to the side and lifted a small basket in the air. It was an old-fashioned picnic type, with a hinged lid, and from the sounds escaping, the kitten in her hands was only one of her current problem.
“Seriously? Why on earth would someone drop a basket of kittens on my porch?” Yvette wrinkled her nose. “That was a rhetorical question.”
Alex placed the basket on top of the bureau then slid open the lid to reveal two more little meowing bundles. “I’m sure you get a fair share of rescues dropped off here.”
“It’s gotten better since Sonora started the animal rescue, but yeah. People assume veterinarians adopt all strays.” Yvette sighed even as she lifted the kitten in her palm in the air and looked the little grey fuzzball in the eye. “Hey, sweetie. I guess we’ll need to take care of you and your siblings.”
“Let me take it.” Alex scooped the kitten from out of her hand and placed it back in the basket, closing and latching the lid. As soon as they were in the dark, the little things quieted down. “We can drop them off at the rescue before we head over to the pub.”
Yvette gestured him in the door. “I may as well give them a once-over before we leave. That’ll save me from being called in to do it later.” She waited until he put the basket on the table and turned toward her so she could meet his gaze full-on. “So. Let’s start this again. Hi. How’s your day going?”
He stepped farther into the room, closing the distance between them. “Better now,” he said. His dark eyes flashed with mischief even as one side of his mouth twisted upward into a wry smile. “This is going to sound silly, but it’s true. I missed you the past couple of days.”
The bit of bubbling in her system was back. “I—”
Why was this so hard? Why was it so hard to admit that she’d been thinking exactly the same thing not even an hour earlier?
He either sensed her discomfort or she simply lucked out, because he winked then turned back to the door, giving her some much-needed breathing room. “Before I take off my boots, let me grab lunch.”
Yvette cleared off the table, bringing out plates. By the time he’d spread out the feast, once again purchased at Buns and Roses, her mouth was watering. Soup, grilled sandwiches, and another set of cinnamon rolls still warm from the oven. “This looks amazing.”
“And delicious. That’s a country onion soup. Tansy said it was your favourite.”
“It is.” Another rush of pleasure broke over Yvette that he’d deliberately picked food she’d enjoy. She offered a mock pout. “Tansy refuses to share any of her recipes.”
Alex took a deep, appreciative inhale, his eyes closing. “As long as she keeps cooking, I’ll keep buying.” He twisted toward Yvette and raised his can of pop in the air. “To supporting local businesses.”
She laughed. “Hear, hear.”
He lifted his sandwich. “Now tell me about your morning. What’s happening in veterinarian land?”
As the conversation drifted easily for the next few minutes, Alex gave up all pretense of being calm, cool, and collected. He let his gaze roam as he pleased, taking in everything from the crisp cut of her blouse to the tendrils of hair escaping her ponytail, framing her face.
As she ate, the charms on her bracelet clinked together with a small bell-like sound, and he ended up smiling around his mouthful of sandwich.
She followed his gaze to her wrist before lifting her eyes to his. “It’s such a pretty bracelet.”
“It’s not really everyday wear for you, is it?”
“No, but it’s beautiful, and I absolutely adore it. Thank you.”
“Huh.” He sat back and grinned. “I was sure I’d have to arm wrestle you to convince you to keep it. Or that you were going to give me hell for spending too much—which I didn’t. Spend too much, I mean.”
Her nose wrinkled in the most adorable way. “If you’d walked into the room thirty seconds after I opened it, you would’ve been right. But given enough time to think it through, if I’m going to trust you during this dating thing, then I need to trust you know what you can afford. And also to know that expensive baubles aren’t always the way.”
Which was one of the things he had written on his list. The notes he’d made after speaking with his parents at the start of the journey.
She won’t want expensive gifts but thoughtful ones.
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Instinctively, he patted his pocket before catching himself and meeting her gaze. “You’re welcome. I had fun putting together things I thought you would like. A couple of them cost something, but some of them are recycled. We’ll figure it out as we go along.”
The smile she gave him was worth every penny he’d spent on the charm bracelet—definitely not one of the recycled items. Not according to the dent in his pocketbook.
Still worth it.
They finished their lunch. Alex shared about the swing they were putting up for the older children on the ranch to enjoy and how a flock of chickens had unexpectedly gotten in the way. Yvette told him about being out at the Hutterite colony the day before when a section of fencing around a pig pen had mysteriously vanished, letting the entire stock escape. Hijinks and mayhem.
He’d always known their jobs were relatable.
Yvette pushed back from the table with a groan. “I am so full.”
He glanced in front of her and chuckled at her abandoned half sandwich and drink. “I see you managed to finish the cinnamon bun.”
Her cheeks flushed and body tightened. “Yeah, well…”
He paused. Shit.
Leaning forward, Alex met her gaze. “Backing up, because that was supposed to be a tease that made you smile, not one that made you uncomfortable. You’ll notice I also finished my cinnamon bun.”
She nodded briskly then straightened. “Sorry. Still sometimes feel like a ten-year-old being told I can’t have dessert until I finish everything on my plate.”
He reached across the table and caught hold of the hand closest to him. “What was that you said about life being too short to read bad books? I think the same thing applies to food. Life’s too short to not enjoy dessert. If that means I only eat half my salad and veggies, so be it.”
She twisted her palm upward until she could squeeze his fingers. “That’s a good life mantra.”
“I’m glad you approve.” Time for distraction of a different kind. “Let’s get this table cleaned up before you open day four. We’re going to need some room to work.”
Not even ten minutes later, Yvette pulled today’s key chain off a picture hung on the wall, so eager, she headed into the cold without pulling on a coat.
Alex grabbed both of their jackets, laughing as he laid hers over her shoulders. “Excited much?”
“A little,” she admitted as she folded her arms and glared at the desk. “I cannot figure out which lock this key goes with.” She glanced at him. “There’s no clue that I can see.”
He held his hand out, palm up. She laid the key chain in it.
“What is it?” he prompted.
“A feather.” When he shook his head, she frowned. “Come on. Don’t try to tell the veterinarian that is not a feather.”
“Yes, it is a feather, but it’s more than a feather.” She was concentrating so hard he could almost see smoke pouring from her ears. “You can figure this one out.”
“Give me a clue?” She slipped her arms into her jacket, rubbing her bare hands together as the sharp cold surrounded them.
He was tempted to offer a trade. He’d warm up her hands in exchange for a clue. Hell, he’d warm up more than just her hands—
Stick to the plan, his conscience warned.
“If you had a homework assignment at Hogwarts, you would use…?”
Her eyes snapped wide, and she snatched back the key chain to examine it closer.
“It’s a quill. For writing. Which means it should open the writing desk part.”
Yvette twirled back toward the bureau and put the key to the lock. She all but shouted as the long rolling section reaching from side to side smoothly pushed upward to reveal a large box and eight more small, locked drawers.
“Oh, my goodness. Okay, that also explains why there were way too few drawers for this to last all the way until the twenty-fourth.” Her smile in his direction was as bright as the star at the top of the Christmas tree. “This is so much fun.”
He reached past her and picked up the box. “Good. Now it’s time for that some assembly required part of the date.”
Watching as she slipped the tape open and pushed back the box flaps was as good as opening a gift himself. In that moment it was absolutely clear that Yvette loved presents.
Her mouth opened in a circle, and she cooed in delight as she pulled out multiple balls of coloured yarn. The packages of LED lights got placed beside them with a little more confused of an expression.
But it was the package of tiny zip ties that made her pull to a stop and glance at him, suddenly concerned. “Should I be worried?”
Amusement bubbled up. “Keep digging in that box, woman.”
At the very bottom, he had layered two cardigan sweaters. His and hers in sizing but identical in pattern. Big red barns on the back, a fence line that wrapped around the waistline. Puffy white clouds against a blue sky and snow on the ground. A perfect Alberta-ranch-in-December scene built out of yarn.
Yvette pressed her fingers to her lips. When she dropped her hands, it was to clap them. “We’re making ugly sweaters, yes?”
“I prefer the word gaudy,” Alex said seriously.
“This is going to be so much fun.” Yvette scrambled back into the plastic bags she had tossed aside in her hurry to get down to the bottom. “Alex. Tell me those aren’t hand puppets.”
“They were hand puppets, but now they’re going to go on our sweaters.” The puppets Yvette was pulling out of their wrappers fit on a single finger. All sorts of farm animals, including chickens and goats.
Alex joined Yvette in pawing through the pile, triumphantly raising his prizes in the air once he found them.
“You found people as well?” Yvette reached for the one in his closest hand, which happened to be the little farmer. “He’s adorable.”
She stroked a finger over his little cowboy hat then grinned up at Alex.
“You’re adorable,” Alex said in response, unable to stop the words.
A sudden pause, and her cheeks pinkened again. Only this time it wasn’t discomfort like at the end of the meal.
Oh, she was embarrassed, but it felt…right. Like a connection growing between them instead of a wall shooting up.
Yvette pulled her gaze from his, stealing away the farm woman figure. “So, do we sew these onto the sweaters?”
“It’s whatever we want to do,” Alex said. “As long as the end result is super special so that it’s painstakingly clear that our sweaters are way better than anything Mack and Brooke can come up with.”
Something suspiciously like a snort escaped Yvette. “Not that you’re competitive or anything.”
He reached for the LED lights, ripping them out of their protective packaging. “Not competitive at all. You’ve got that right.”
Yvette slipped on the smaller cardigan, buttoning it up the front before holding her arms out to the side and turning slowly. “It fits.”
Dear God, did it ever. Snug against her hips, the sweater dipped in at her waistline then flared outward over her breasts. Alex forced his gaze to continue to rise, but holy hell, did he want to simply sit and admire her assets for a little while. He’d known she was curvy, but the sheer impact at this moment—breathtaking.
Lust-inducing. His body shot into high gear like a wound-up Christmas top.
Unaware of his dilemma, Yvette grabbed two packages and held them toward him. “I’ve got an idea. What if we light everything up, but instead of sewing the puppets onto the sweaters, we attach them with Velcro?”
He forced his mind away from its current path and concentrated on her suggestion. “That would be a lot of fun. Only I don’t have any Velcro.”
Yvette gestured toward the side of the room. “Trust me. I have a little bit of absolutely everything you could possibly need.”
He was pretty sure she had more than a little bit of everything he needed.
Stay on task. “Great. Let’s get started.”
Considering
how volatile their relationship had been a couple years earlier, it was bizarre how smoothly their afternoon went, working together. Thankfully, the Velcro she found didn’t involve sewing. The super-sticky glue allowed them to put small squares on the back of the puppet pieces and strategically all over the sweaters.
Then they got to the tricky part. Yvette pulled on her sweater and pushed the LEDs into his hands. “It’ll be much easier for you to see where to weave these in and out of the fabric if I’m wearing it.”
Weaving meant touching. Sliding his hands over her torso as he stood close enough to smell her skin. The apple scent of her hair. The tempting sounds of…everything.
Dear God. Easier?
She had no idea.
Alex swallowed hard. “Turn around.”
His voice sounded as if he had been gargling with gravel, but she’d already pivoted her back toward him.
He focused on what he was doing, but his fingers shook as he gently laid the long strands over her shoulder and then went to work. Weaving the end of the thin filament along the edge of the barn was fine, except for the heat coming off her body toward him.
It was when he began working along the top rail of the fence, the one sliding around her waist and headed toward the front of her body—that’s when his mouth went dry and his heart started beating hard enough that it echoed in his ears.
Yvette’s cheerful chatter slowly faded away. Her breathing accelerated as his hands brushed her belly. The full curves of her breasts swam in his vision.
Dammit, he was striving to keep this from turning into a moment that went too far, too fast. His gaze lingered on her heartbeat fluttering at the base of her throat. Her tongue slipped over her lips, leaving the bottom one wet.
Her hand came down on his forearm. Fingers curling around and holding him in place. She spoke barely above a whisper. “Alex?”
According to his timeline, he was already pushing to get things physical between them a whole lot faster than most men would try. He’d be foolish to push his luck too hard.
Alex was no fool.
He was about to take a step back when she shocked the hell out of him. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and squeezed him tight. Bodies coming into contact, heat wrapping around them. Sweet, lush woman pushed against every inch of his body.