“Look, Viv, I’ll be the first to admit that you’re damned good at your job. You’ve been here at Lake Pleasant for a long time and I’ve never had to worry about you slacking off, or making a wrong decision about handling problems. But—”
Vivian didn’t allow him to finish. “But what? I’ve been here nine years, Mort. Going on ten. And by that length of time, you should know I have the routine down. Why bother bringing someone in to fill Louis’s place when I can handle the job on my own?”
The sixty-year-old man with red hair was tall and rawboned, with blue eyes that crinkled at the corners. He’d been Vivian’s supervisor from the day she’d been hired on at Lake Pleasant State Park in Arizona. Since then, he’d not only been a great boss, but he’d also become her friend, and she’d expected him to understand her reluctance to work long days with a stranger. Instead, his patient smile made it clear she was wasting time trying to argue her point.
“If Louis was only going to miss a day or two of work, I’d say fine, Viv. Go ahead and handle it on your own. But at the very least, it’s going to be four to six months before Louis’s broken leg will be ready for work again. And with the Christmas holiday coming up, the park is going to be brimming with extra campers. Like it or not, you’re going to need help.”
Vivian’s jaw dropped as she turned to stare at her boss. “Six months! I talked to Louis over the phone yesterday morning. He told me he’d be back at work in two or three weeks!”
Mort shook his head. “That was before the doctor discovered the tibia bone in Louis’s leg was more than a stress fracture. It’s going to require surgery to fix it. If things go well and Louis takes care of himself, he’ll be back to work by spring.”
Vivian stifled a groan. Today was the second day of December. Spring seemed like eons away. She couldn’t survive without Louis for that length of time.
Completely deflated by this turn of events, Vivian wilted into the chair she’d vacated moments earlier. “Oh, no,” she muttered. “Six months. Poor Louis.”
“No need to worry about Louis. While he’s laid up Inez will spoil him rotten. It’s filling his spot here at work that’s my concern right now.” Mort glanced at a large clock positioned on the wall to his right. “And I’d say your new partner should be arriving any minute now.”
His unexpected announcement caused Vivian to bounce up from the chair. “This morning? Now? Are you kidding me?”
Mort was about to make some sort of reply when a knock had Vivian whirling away from the supervisor’s desk to stare in horror-like fascination at the door. How could he have sprung such a surprise on her? Why hadn’t he warned her that she’d be meeting a new partner today? At the very least, she would’ve had time to mentally prepare herself.
“Come in,” Mort called out.
With her hands behind her, Vivian unconsciously wrapped her fingers around the edge of Mort’s desk in an effort to brace herself. Man or woman, young or old, this couldn’t be good, she thought. Louis was the only partner she’d ever had. He’d always been like a father figure to her and she trusted him implicitly. She didn’t want to share long working hours with a stranger.
She sensed Mort rising from his desk chair, but after that everything in the room suddenly faded, except for the man walking through the doorway. Even if she’d had time to think, he was like nothing she could’ve imagined for a partner.
Somewhere in his late twenties, he was tall and lean, with bronze skin, blue-black hair and black eyes hooded beneath a pair of black brows. High cheekbones and a hawkish nose dominated his angular features, yet it was the faint curve of his thin lips that caught and held her attention.
Who was this man? Rangers from other areas of the state sometimes visited Lake Pleasant headquarters, but if this man had been one of them, she would’ve definitely remembered. Just looking at him made her feel hot all over.
“Sawyer, good to see you,” Mort greeted as he went to shake the man’s hand. “And right on time, too.”
“Nice to see you again, Mr. Woolsey,” he said as he gave Mort’s hand a hearty pump. “I had planned to be here earlier, but a rancher on the res decided this morning was a good time for a cattle drive down the highway.”
“No worries about the time. And you needn’t bother with the Mr. Woolsey. Just call me Mort, like everyone else around here. Except for Viv. She calls me Mort, plus a few other things I’d rather not repeat,” he joked, then motioned for Vivian to join them. “Come here, Viv, and let me introduce you to your new partner.”
Certain she’d suddenly walked into some sort of hazy dream, Vivian drew in a deep breath and forced herself to move toward the two men.
“Viv, this is Sawyer Whitehorse. He’ll be working with you until Louis is back on his feet. And, Sawyer, this is Vivian Hollister.”
The man flashed a smile at her and extended his hand. Vivian fought off the urge to wipe her sweaty palm on the hip pocket of her twill pants and offered him her hand.
“It’s a real pleasure to meet you, Ms. Hollister,” he said. “From what I hear, it’s going to be tough trying to fill Louis’s shoes. But I’ll do my best.”
In spite of the cold weather outside, his hand felt as warm as a sunbaked rock and just as hard.
“Hello, Mr. Whitehorse. I—uh, didn’t learn until just a moment before you walked in that I was getting a new partner. But now that you’re here, welcome to Lake Pleasant State Park. I hope you’ll enjoy your time here.”
As he was still hanging on to her hand, his smile deepened and Vivian didn’t miss the dimple carving his right cheek. Was there anything unattractive about the man? she wondered. So far she’d not seen it.
Beneath the hunter green jacket with ranger patches adorning the upper arms, she could see that his shoulders were very broad, while his chest narrowed down to a trim waist. The trousers of his matching green uniform hugged narrow hips and long muscled thighs that evoked images of strength and stamina.
Darn it. Sawyer Whitehorse was wearing the same uniform that every other park ranger at Lake Pleasant wore, so why did he make it look so downright sexy?
He said, “Thank you, Ms. Hollister. I’m looking forward to it.”
Seemingly pleased with this new pairing of employees, Mort grinned. “Don’t you two think you ought to lighten things up and make it Vivian and Sawyer? The park guests might find it a bit odd to hear you addressing each other as Ms. and Mr.”
“That’s fine with me,” Sawyer said with another wide grin aimed at Vivian.
Was that a gleam in his dark eyes? Dear Lord, what was this man thinking? Didn’t he realize she was several years older than him? Besides that, she was going to be his working partner for the next six months, not a sex object.
“Please call me Vivian,” she said, while purposely extricating her hand from his warm grip.
“Well, that’s better,” Mort said with approval. “I think—” Before he could finish, the phone on his desk rang. “Excuse me. This call is important. You two don’t need me to tell you what to do. Viv, show him around and get him acquainted with everything.”
Mort left them to go deal with the phone call and Vivian walked over to fetch her jacket and hat from a hall tree standing near the front entrance of the office.
As she started to jam her arm into the sleeve, Sawyer quickly came up behind her to assist her with the garment. As his hands smoothed the fabric over her shoulders, an odd flutter attacked the pit of her stomach.
None of her fellow rangers had ever done such a gentlemanly thing for her. To them she was no different just because she was a female. And that was the way she wanted it. Until this moment. Until Sawyer Whitehorse had walked through the door with his long, lean body and sinfully sexy grin. Something about this man treating her like a lady made her feel ridiculously special.
Get a grip, Viv. You haven’t had a man on your mind in years. You sure don�
��t need to let yourself start thinking about this one. He’s nothing but tall trouble.
“Thanks,” she murmured, then turned to face him. “Are you ready to head out, or is there anything you need to deal with here at headquarters first?”
“I’m ready. Just lead the way.”
When he’d first walked through the door, she’d thought his eyes were black like his hair. But now that she was up close, she could see they were the color of a rich coffee bean polished to a warm brown hue. The lashes surrounding them were thick and black and matched the brows that were presently arched with something very close to amusement.
Vivian levered her hat over her long, chestnut hair and tightened the stampede string beneath her chin. “I hope Mort told you that I rarely come back to headquarters for lunch. Mine and Louis’s section of the park is too far away to waste the time and gas. I hope you brought something with you.”
“It’s in my vehicle. I usually try to think ahead.”
He jammed his hat onto his head, then opened the door and gestured for her to precede him. As Vivian brushed past him, she caught the faint scent of soap and sage and some other spicy scent that was uniquely male. The fragrance evoked images of wild wilderness and making love next to a low-burning campfire.
Oh, my, where did that kind of erotic thought come from? And how was she possibly going to survive one day with Sawyer Whitehorse? Much less four to six months?
Shoving the questions aside, Vivian stepped through the doorway, while keenly aware of Sawyer following right behind her.
Outside, the sun was shining in a clear blue sky, but the north wind was crisp, even for December in Arizona. Vivian zipped the front of her jacket all the way to her throat as she walked briskly toward the SUV parked to the left of the building. Sitting next to it was a black Ford truck. Since she’d not seen the vehicle before, she could only assume it belonged to Sawyer.
“I’ll get my lunch and be right with you,” he said, his long stride easily keeping pace with her shorter one.
“Sure,” she said. “I’ll wait for you in the SUV.”
He veered off to collect his things from the truck and Vivian hurried on to take her place behind the steering wheel of the work vehicle. By the time Sawyer joined her, she already had the motor running and her seat belt snapped in place.
After placing his lunch bucket and a pair of leather gloves behind the seat, he paused to look at her. “Do you normally drive?”
She stared at him. “What kind of question is that?”
He grinned and the sight of all those straight white teeth gleaming against his dark skin made her breathing go haywire. She wasn’t sure whether she needed to pull in a lungful of oxygen or blow it out.
He said, “From the indignant look on your face, you think it’s a sexist one.”
“No! I mean, that isn’t what I’m thinking,” she told him. “I—Actually, I’m thinking now—before we get started—would be a good time for us to have a talk.”
He settled back in the seat and folded his arms comfortably against his chest. Vivian tried not to notice the way his biceps strained the sleeves of his jacket, or the empty ring finger on his left hand.
You really didn’t expect the man to be married, did you, Vivian? He has the look of a wild mustang stamped all over him.
“Okay, Vivian. Talk on. I have as much time as you do.”
He made her name sound like sweet cream dripping over a ripe strawberry. Which made it even more impossible to gather her jangled senses.
“All right,” she said, then, resisting the urge to lick her lips, she searched for the right place to start. “Like I said back in Mort’s office, I didn’t know you’d be coming today. Or any day, for that matter. This whole notion of me getting a new partner has thrown me. I was expecting to be going it alone.”
His brown eyes were roaming her face, yet Vivian purposely avoided locking gazes with him. Instead, she focused on the faint curve of his lower lip and the tiny cleft denting the bottom of his chin. He’d clearly shaved this morning. His bronze skin was smooth without the hint of a whisker and Vivian couldn’t help wondering how it would feel to rub her cheek against his.
“Is that what you wanted?” he asked. “To work alone?”
She cleared her throat and tried to gather her thoughts. “Not exactly. You see, Louis believed his leg was only slightly cracked and he’d most likely be back on the job in two or three weeks. Learning to work with someone new takes time and—”
“Patience,” he finished for her.
“Well, yes, I suppose that’s the right word for it. And I thought handling things on my own would be easier.”
“Have you had many partners since you became a ranger?” he asked.
“Only Louis. What about you?”
“Three. The first one retired. The second one moved to the northern part of the state. And now I have you.”
The way he said you very nearly made Vivian shiver. She reached for the knob that adjusted the heater and turned it up a notch. “I see. So how long have you been a ranger?”
“Nine years,” he answered. “I became a ranger right after I turned twenty.”
She’d guessed him to be in his late twenties and she’d guessed right. And though his age really had nothing to do with anything, it made her feel ridiculously old.
“There’s a tiny crease marring your forehead,” he said. “What’s the matter? Is there anything wrong with me being twenty-nine?”
“No. It’s just that you’re very young.” Compared to me, she almost added.
He studied her for a long moment before he finally asked, “How long have you been a ranger?”
“Nine years for me, too. Only I didn’t start as young as you. I’m thirty-five.”
He shrugged as though her age was insignificant and she supposed, to him, it was.
“You didn’t have to tell me your age,” he said, then flashed her a grin that was far too provocative. “But if it makes you feel any better you look a lot younger.”
She stared at him in disbelief while the urge to curse and laugh fought a duel inside her. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”
“Just the facts, ma’am.”
There was a teasing lilt to his voice and it warned her that if she didn’t try to put a brake on his behavior right now, he would soon be outright flirting. And she couldn’t deal with that. Not from this man.
She squared around in the seat until the seat belt was straining tightly against her shoulder. “Look, Sawyer, I have no idea if your former work partners were male or female. Or what sort of relationship you had with them. But I think you need to know right up front, right now, that there isn’t going to be any flirting, any hanky-panky or anything else between us. The only thing the two of us are going to do together is...work. Got it?”
“That’s what I’m here for—work,” he said cheerfully. “I know the ranger rules. Hands off. No flirting. No hanky-panky. No anything else.”
He was making fun of her. Making her sound like some prim spinster afraid to have a man even look in her direction. Damn it.
He said, “You know, you’re even prettier when you get stirred up.”
Her jaw tight, she stared out the windshield. Damn, Mort. What in the hell was he thinking calling in a man like this to take Louis’s place? Why couldn’t he have called some man out of retirement, some old ranger that didn’t set her on fire each time she looked at him?
“What makes you think I’m stirred up?”
Leaning slightly toward her, he studied her face. “Because the little gold flecks in your green eyes are flashing fire and there’s a raspberry-red color staining your cheeks.”
What was it about this guy? She wanted to be outraged and insulted, yet deep down she felt flattered that he was implying she was attractive.
Oh, brother, she’d been
without a man for much too long. At least, that’s what her younger brother Holt would say.
“Really?” she asked.
“Sure. We’re going to be the best of partners,” he said, then gestured toward the gearshift. “Don’t you think you should put that in Reverse and get us out of here? We’re burning daylight.”
Straightening away from him, she yanked the gearshift into R and tromped on the gas pedal to send the vehicle flying backward. If Mort happened to look out the window and see gravel spewing from the tires, then so be it, she thought crossly. He was the one who’d gotten her into this mess.
Copyright © 2018 by Stella Bagwell
ISBN-13: 9781488094002
Same Time, Next Christmas
Copyright © 2018 by Christine Rimmer
All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 22 Adelaide St. West, 40th Floor, Toronto, Ontario M5H 4E3, Canada.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Intellectual Property Office and in other countries.
www.Harlequin.com
Same Time, Next Christmas (The Bravos 0f Valentine Bay Book 3) Page 18