A Cowboy's Christmas Reunion (Mills & Boon Cherish) (The Boones of Texas, Book 1)

by Sasha Summers

  “Is college really necessary?” another boy asked.

  “I think it is,” Jo argued. “I think college is a good move for anyone, no matter what they plan on doing with their life. Think of it as a way to expand your horizons.” She paused. “I kind of stepped in here at the last minute. Does anyone have any questions?”

  “Is this what you always wanted to do?” a girl asked.

  He watched Jo, amazed at the smile that spread across her face. “It is. It makes me happy. I mean, it also makes me really unhappy, like when I get stuck on a story.”

  Jo stopped then, her smile fading. He followed her gaze to Eli. His son wore a look of pure disdain. Jo’s voice distracted him. “But I guess all professions have ups and downs. Right, Dr. Boone?”

  “Yes.” He swallowed, hoping he didn’t look as thrown as he felt. “Definitely.”

  “How did you get into veterinary medicine?” she asked, sitting on the edge of the table, deferring the floor to him.

  “I grew up working with animals. My father and his father and his father before that. I wanted to heal animals early on. Everything from field mice to injured hawks.” He pointed at the display board one of his teaching assistants had put together for him. “School was a challenge. I got accepted early, before I had my undergraduate degree. I won’t kid you—school is tough and very competitive. But it’s important to understand that some things take work to achieve. You have to want it. You have to do the work.”

  He talked for a while, trying to include Jo in the questions being asked, but she’d withdrawn. One look at his son spoke volumes. It would be hard to engage when someone was staring daggers at you. And there was no denying the resentment on his son’s face.

  Chapter Six

  “I’m going to walk Lola home,” her father announced.

  “Now, Carl,” Lola argued as she pulled on her thick coat.

  He grinned, buttoning Lola’s top button. “Hush now. Doc said it would do me some good. Didn’t he, Josie?” Her father looked at her.

  Josie managed to nod.

  “See there?” Carl opened the doors. “Might take me a little longer, though—”

  “I don’t mind.” Lola tucked her hand into his arm, winking at Josie. “Night, sugar.”

  “Night, Lola.” She stared at the empty doorway long after they’d left. Her dad might just be catching a clue. About time.

  “Jo?” Hunter’s voice was soft, his knock on the screen door startling her.

  “Hunter?” She braced herself. “Come in.”

  The past hour had been at once the best and worst time she’d had in a long time. She missed having that spark, that zippy back and forth that she had with Hunter. The way he smiled that crooked smile, arched his brow at her—she didn’t know whether she wanted to kiss him or run far, far away.

  And then there was Hunter’s son. There was also the possibility that Eli’s scowl might actually kill her. She’d been on the receiving end of quite a few stare-downs in her time, but she didn’t know how to respond to Eli. If only there was something she could do or say to defuse some of his rage.

  “Hey,” she said, peeking around him, expecting Eli to join them. “How many future vets do you think you made tonight?”

  “Maybe a few.”

  “It’s the coat,” she teased. “Something about its white splendor is so...so enticing.”

  “Is it?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Why don’t you ride on home before you freeze, cowboy?”

  He laughed. “I’m going, I’m going, but I keep forgetting to give you this.” He pulled a white envelope from his coat pocket. “I know you probably don’t have time for this, but I promised I’d pass it along to you.”

  She stared at the UET Veterinary Medicine envelope. “Is it an order form for my own white coat?”

  “You wish.”

  She chuckled.

  Silence set in, long and awkward. She didn’t have the nerve to look at him. Not now. Instead, she stared at the envelope in her hands. “Well, thanks for this.” She tapped the corner of the envelope in her palm. “It’s late—”

  “Jo.” His voice changed, from teasing to husky and a little too sexy in two minutes flat.

  “Oh, am I supposed to open this now?” she asked, tearing the top of the envelope. She pulled out the papers, skimming over the letter. This was a commission? A very well-paid commission. For a mural for the waiting room at the teaching veterinary hospital.

  “No.” He sighed. “I was... I was wondering if you’re free for dinner tomorrow night.”

  She stared at him, the commission forgotten. “But...” Did he not notice his son’s reaction tonight? “Hunter—”

  “Jo.” His voice was a whisper. He moved forward, his eyes sweeping over her face.

  Her entire body seemed to quiver, waiting for his touch. She stepped back but, somehow, he seemed even closer.

  “Don’t say no.” His words were so low, gruff.

  She couldn’t say anything. Not now, when he was looking at her like that. Instead, she swallowed, searching for some sassy comeback to counter the dangerous warmth spreading through every single cell of her body. In two steps, her back was against the wall.

  He stepped forward. “One night. No history. No interruptions. Just me and you.”

  “A date?” Her question was a whisper.

  His hand reached up, gently grasping one of her curls. Something about the way he caressed her hair made her ache for his touch. “What do you say, Jo?” His eyes met hers. Blazing, electric, the pull almost physical. He released the curl, placing his big hands on either side of her head.

  She blew out a shaky breath, unable to hide the effect he was having on her. His mouth was so close, his breath caressing her skin. His gaze explored her face, slow and intense. His nostrils flared and his jaw went tight. She sucked in a deep breath and tilted her head, an unmistakable invitation. Her heart kicked into overdrive as he leaned forward. She closed her eyes, waiting, ready, willing, bursting.

  His forehead rested against hers.

  “I’m not going to kiss you until you say yes,” he rasped.

  Her eyes popped open. “Yes,” she answered quickly, too quickly. Not that there was any point in denying what was happening. They both felt it—they both wanted it.

  His gaze searched her face, long and slow. Then he smiled and stepped away from her. He shoved his hands in his pockets and cleared his throat. “I’ll pick you up at seven o’clock.”

  She stared at him, in complete shock. “But...but I didn’t—”

  “You said yes, Jo,” he said softly.

  “Hunter, that’s not what I was saying yes to.”

  “What were you saying yes to, then?”

  She swallowed. No way she was going to admit she wanted him to kiss her, not with him standing there all cocky. “But my dad—”

  “Tomorrow’s bingo at the Senior Center. Think they’re having a holiday party after that and I’m sure, what with Lola being there and all, he’ll be going.” He waited.

  No arguing now. She stared at him, knowing he’d won. “Okay,” she murmured.

  “Wear something nice.”

  “Wear something nice?” she muttered.

  His smile grew.

  “Why are you smiling like that?” she bit out.

  “I feel like smiling.” He shrugged.

  She tried to glare at him, she really did. But his smile was just too infectious. She liked him smiling. She liked that he could make her want to smile. Like now. In fact, there was no way she could stop the one spreading across her face.

  The front door opened. “You two done? I’m getting a touch of frostbite out here.” Her father walked in, rubbing his hands together.

  “Dad.” She wrapped an arm around her dad and led him into the living room. She tugged his recliner closer to the fireplace. “Sit and warm up. I’ll make you some hot chocolate.”

  “Checking on Sprinkles, Hunter?” her dad asked as he sat. “Come o
n in and warm up. Josie can make you some hot chocolate, too, can’t you, Josie?”

  She glanced at Hunter. To her extreme aggravation, he laughed. “I’ll have to take you up on that some other night. Eli stayed to help Mrs. Upton clean up, but I imagine he’s ready for me to pick him up by now. You still playing bingo at the Senior Center tomorrow night?”

  “Wouldn’t miss it. Lola’s asked a few of us over for a late dinner afterward.” She heard the satisfaction in her father’s voice.

  “So you won’t mind if I take Jo out for a bit?” Hunter asked.

  She glared at Hunter. Was he asking her father permission? “Oh, please—”

  Her father held up his hand. “I’ll be honest, Hunter, I have a few concerns. Josie’s lighter fluid and you are her match. You two left a lot of destruction last time around, for all those that love you.”

  She paused again, wrapping her arms around her waist. Her attention fixed on her father. He might be teasing, a little, but he was also making a point. She’d been so angry and hurt, she hadn’t stopped to think about anyone but herself, not her father, the Boone family or Hunter. And she sincerely regretted the way she’d shut everyone out. “It was a long time ago, Dad.” She tried to sound flippant but failed.

  “It was,” her father agreed. “But some wounds take a lot of time to heal—if they heal at all.”

  * * *

  HUNTER STIFFENED. CARL’S words hung there, too big to ignore. He couldn’t help but look at Jo then. The older man was right—some wounds took a long time to heal. He never wanted to open himself up to a hurt like the one he’d felt when Josie had left. It had broken him, clawed at his insides until he’d worried he’d split in two. But she hadn’t left because of what had happened with Amy. She’d left him before Amy had been in the picture. She’d left because she’d wanted to.

  Her gray eyes were looking everywhere but at him. He wondered about that. Did she know how alone he’d felt? That his love had felt insignificant when she’d tossed it aside so quickly.

  Her college admissions letter had been her golden ticket out of Stonewall Crossing. Away from him. He knew the art program in New Mexico was the one she wanted most in the country. And he wanted only the best for her. He’d dropped hints about doing his undergrad work anywhere, but she’d never acknowledged them or asked him to come with her. She’d just left. He didn’t blame her for leaving, for following her dreams. But it killed him to know that he hadn’t been a part of them. To him, it had been their future. To her, it was about getting out and starting over.

  That wound was one he still wasn’t over.

  What happened after that was all his fault. Jo had been gone for months, her calls getting further and further apart. He’d missed her, missed feeling loved and needed. Amy had been all too willing to ignore his drunken state and lead him home to bed.

  Jo had been hurt—he’d hurt her. And he hated himself for what he’d done to her heart. If there was a way to apologize, to undo the heartbreak one tortured night caused so many people, he would. But Eli was the result of that one night, and his son was his life. Even if Jo was still the love of his life.

  Hunter realized Jo was watching him, her forehead furrowed. “If you’re against it—”

  “I didn’t say that.” Carl waved his hand. “It’ll be good for you two to have some time, to work through whatever it is that’s there. And enjoy some holiday cheer while you’re at it.”

  Whatever it is that’s there. His heart knew exactly what was between them. Jo’s gaze met his then and his throat went dry.

  “And Sprinkles is fine,” Carl went on. “She’s been trying to scratch her way through the linoleum for some...” But Hunter was watching the panic creep into Jo’s eyes.

  She was thinking, overthinking, letting her mind take over and fill in all the silent spaces with doubt. She’d always been real good at letting her head overrule her heart.

  “...but she’s eating fine,” Carl finished.

  “Good.” Hunter nodded. “Glad to hear it.”

  Jo was scowling at him. And she looked mighty fine doing it. One look from her made it all too easy to forget any past hurts and move on to their next adventure. He knew the two of them would be better than ever, if she’d give them the chance.

  His phone started vibrating. “Eli?” she asked.

  He heard the catch in her voice as he checked his phone and glanced her way. “Yep.”

  She smiled. “It’s awful cold, Hunter. Too cold to leave him waiting outside for long.”

  He shook his head. After the knives his son had been shooting at her all night, he was fine with letting his son suffer a few minutes of cold. “He’s fine.”

  She scowled again. “Hunter—”

  “I’m going.” He patted Carl on the shoulder. “Enjoy your hot chocolate.” He walked right up to Jo. “I’ll see you tomorrow night.” And, before he could stop himself, he dropped a kiss on her cheek. When he stepped back, her eyes were huge. She might be surprised, but she wasn’t angry. If anything, she looked pleased. Not that she was happy about it.

  He winked at her, ignoring the way she frowned in irritation, the way she stood straight as if prepping for battle. He touched his hat at Jo, said good-night to Carl and slipped from the house.

  It was cold and dark, a steady pelting of icy rain clicking against the sidewalk. But, even with the winter wind cutting through his thick Carhartt jacket, he wasn’t too bothered. If anything, he was excited. It had been a long time since anticipation warmed him.

  “Took you long enough,” Eli mumbled when Hunter arrived at the high school. But he didn’t let his son’s tone or long-suffering sighs get to him. Instead, he turned up the radio, blasting Christmas carols the entire ride home.

  Once he’d closed the door behind him, he turned to find Eli waiting. “Dad,” his son began.

  He put his hands on his hips. Eli had no idea how close he’d come to being publically put in his place. “Yep?”

  “I owe you an apology.”

  That was the last thing he expected to hear. “You do?”

  “Yes, sir.” Eli looked at him. “I was disrespectful.”

  “To me?” he asked, trying not to feel impatient.

  Eli’s mouth pressed shut.

  Hunter sighed. “Why do you think you owe me an apology? You weren’t bound and determined to make me uncomfortable tonight.”

  “I wasn’t trying to make anyone uncomfortable tonight.”

  Hunter shook his head and hung up his hat and coat. “Now you should apologize.”

  “I just did,” Eli shot back.

  “No—” Hunter folded his arms across his chest. “Not for your behavior tonight. But for the lie you just told.”

  Hunter watched his son. Eli had a temper on him, but he’d never let it slip. It killed Hunter to see his son’s hands fist, see the raw anger twisting his boy’s features. That was bad. But watching his son turn, storm out of the room and slam his bedroom door shut behind him made Hunter feel as if he’d been kicked in the gut.

  Chapter Seven

  Josie was tired, bone-tired. But watching Dara and Lola at work, being part of their comfortable chatter, made the daylong baking less of a chore. When Dara and her father had shown up early this morning looking for breakfast, Josie had offered to let Dara stay and bake while he did some holiday shopping. Lola had knocked on the door at seven, bringing in a basket of fresh biscuits and some fresh jam, and set to work alongside them. They’d been mixing, baking and decorating gingerbread, sharing stories and laughing the whole time. At the rate they were going, they just might have a complimentary cookie for everyone in Stonewall Crossing.

  Dara piped an icing smile onto the gingerbread girl she was finishing, then placed a small gummy spice drop right in the middle of the bow she’d made. Josie watched the girl, noting the satisfaction on her young face. “Sure you’ve never done this before?” she asked.

  Dara shook her head. “My mom doesn’t like to bake. If she can’t
buy it at the store, we don’t have it at our place.”

  Lola clicked her tongue. “Well, that’s just wrong. Baking is good for the soul.” She paused, winking at them both. “If not for the waistline.”

  They laughed.

  “You’re welcome to lend a hand anytime,” Josie added. “Once you’re old enough to hire, believe me, I’ll tell Dad to hire you.”

  “He does too much on his own. The ol’ coot,” Lola agreed. “Would do him some good to hire some help.”

  Josie agreed. When she couldn’t sleep, she’d organized her father’s financials. He was making a tidy profit. He didn’t need to be a one-man show. Josie loved seeing him relaxing, putting on a little weight, smiling and laughing. He needed to get out, to have a life beyond the four walls of his bakery. With Lola Worley.

  “If I can convince my mom.” Dara sounded a little wistful.

  “She doesn’t want you working?” Lola asked. Lola, Josie noted, didn’t mince words when it came to conversations. “A woman should have skills.”

  Josie agreed. But there were women, her mother included, who still believed the best career a woman could have was marrying a rich man. Her mother’s idea of a well-rounded education had included pouting, exercising and the importance of thorough grooming. Aging gracefully was a concept her mother disdained. She claimed it was an excuse for letting yourself go and getting complacent.

  “I think my mom worries about me. She doesn’t want me to be a housewife. She wants me to be a lawyer or doctor or something.” Dara shrugged, her cheeks turning a deep red. “I like making things.”

  “What do you want to do?” Josie asked the girl.

  “I don’t really know. Do I have to? Right now?” The young girl looked between them both.

  “No.” Lola laughed.

  “Sometimes I still don’t know,” Josie added.

  Annabeth arrived. “Hey, guys. Sorry, Cody’s playdate got started late. What did I miss?”

  “Dara wants to know when she has to decide what she wants to be,” Josie said.

  Annabeth frowned. “Ugh. Not for years and years?”