The Maverick's Christmas to Remember

by Christy Jeffries

  “I’ve slept on worse,” he replied, his knuckles turning white as he tightly gripped the cast-iron skillet.

  “Yeah, but don’t you think you’d be more comfortable in my bed?” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. It wasn’t exactly like she was eager to hop into bed with the man she was still trying to remember. But she also recalled his comment this morning about his back and she didn’t want him spending another night in agony.

  Besides, she was learning that she never got any answers out of Craig unless she pushed him.

  “Here’s the thing, Caroline.” Craig glanced toward the bedroom, but when he faced her, he wouldn’t meet her eyes. A pit settled into her stomach as she realized the answer before he said it. “We haven’t slept together yet.”

  * * *

  Craig hated the fact that he’d obviously brought that shocking pink color to her cheeks last night, but there had been absolutely no way he could’ve lain next to her in a bed all night and maintained his distance.

  Hell, he was having a hard time maintaining his distance this morning as the scent of sizzling bacon woke him from his crooked sleep on the uncomfortable sofa bed. Caroline stood in front of the stove, stirring scrambled eggs in her cast-iron skillet, looking like one of those old-fashioned housewives from the Leave It to Beaver era.

  A silky, flowery dress hugged her backside before flaring out above her knees, and she had another pair of high heels on her feet. Who dressed like that to cook breakfast?

  When she turned around to pass him a mug of hot coffee, he noticed that a white apron with a cherry print covered the front of her dress. Her brown hair was clipped away from her face and fell in soft waves down her back. Craig didn’t know what looked more appealing—her or the plate of perfectly crisped bacon she handed him next.

  If he hadn’t already seen how much food she could put away in her petite frame, he would’ve assumed that she was trying to impress him with her cooking skills. But since she divided the eggs into equal portions on their plates, it was obvious that she enjoyed food as much as he did.

  “What time do you need to be at your office this morning?” he asked.

  “I was hoping to go in around eight and get things set up for the meeting.”

  He glanced at the digital clock on the stove. “That was thirty minutes ago.”

  “I know, but I don’t have my car and you were out cold on the sofa bed, so I didn’t have the heart to wake you.”

  Craig rubbed his neck and tried not to think of the stiffness in his back that had kept him awake the first half of the night. Well, it was his aching muscles along with a side of guilt and a constant awareness of Caroline’s physical proximity that had kept him from getting to sleep before two in the morning.

  “Let me just grab a quick shower and I’ll take you,” he offered before carrying his coffee into the bathroom with him.

  Fifteen minutes later, he was backing his truck out of the long driveway and she was handing him an English muffin filled with the eggs and bacon he hadn’t wanted to take the time to eat.

  When he pulled into the gravel parking lot at Sawmill Station, her little blue MINI Cooper was the only vehicle there. Just as it had been yesterday afternoon. Grabbing her laptop case out of his crew cab, Craig followed her inside the former one-room train depot that served as her office. The Daltons had bought the surrounding land last year for their ranching operation, but because the train depot and the larger freight house next door were historical landmarks, they couldn’t tear them down. From what Craig understood, Vivienne, Cole Dalton’s wife, had moved her wedding planning business to Rust Creek Falls and they now used the space to hold big parties.

  Perfectly good waste of grazing land, if you asked Craig.

  “You don’t need to hang around,” she said, flipping on the lights and setting a bright yellow tote bag—similar to the one she’d had yesterday—on an antique desk with fancy scrollwork.

  “But there’s no one else here,” he said, dropping to his knees beside a modern wood-burning stove in the corner. It was freezing in this place.

  “I know, but Brendan and Fiona will be here soon. Plus, it’s not like I’m at risk of falling asleep or knocking myself out. Again.”

  “But the doctor said we shouldn’t leave you alone,” he reminded her.

  “Did she say for how long?”

  “Not exactly. Though I was under the impression that you needed someone with you until you got your memory back.”

  “But, Craig,” she said as she smiled, “I do have my memory back. Or at least most of it.”

  So then why did she still think they were engaged? He wanted to ask her as much, but he didn’t know how to without it sounding like some sort of test. Plus, he heard a car pull into the lot outside.

  He got the fire going and rose up just as Brendan Tanner and his girlfriend, Fiona O’Reilly, walked inside. They greeted Caroline first, and when Fiona turned Craig’s way, she did a double take.

  “Hey there, Craig. I wasn’t expecting to see you here.” Fiona’s family owned a local ranch, and when Craig had been stuck in the hospital with Caroline and bored out of his mind, he’d read one of her online articles about the free-range grazing habits of Herefords. “Are you volunteering for the Presents for Patriots fund-raiser, too?”

  “Nope,” Craig answered a bit too quickly and his single syllable response did nothing to wipe the curious expression from Fiona’s face.

  “My car got left here in the parking lot, so Craig had to give me a ride to work this morning.” Caroline’s explanation wasn’t helping the matter, either. He held his breath as his supposed fiancée turned toward him. “You’re more than welcome to stay, honey, but I’m sure you have other things you need to do today.”

  There was a slight gasp at her use of the endearment and he realized that it had come from his own mouth.

  That settled it. There was no way Craig was sticking around and waiting for Brendan and Fiona’s questions that would be sure to follow. He squared his shoulders and took Caroline up on her suggestion that he leave.

  “Okay, then I’m going to head over to the Daltons’ stable and talk to them about their new longhorn.” It was his way of letting her know that he’d still be nearby if she needed him.

  “We’re supposed to be meeting Bailey Stockton here,” Brendan called out to Craig, who paused as he made his way toward the exit. “So if you see a guy in the parking lot who looks like he’s got a chip on his shoulder and would prefer to be out riding horses instead of inside talking to actual humans, go ahead and point him in this direction.”

  Craig knew some of the Stocktons from his past visits to Rust Creek Falls, but not Bailey. He was the most recent one to move to town, and Craig didn’t blame the guy for wanting to get as far away from the wedding planner’s office as possible. In fact, if Craig did run across the man, he’d probably invite him to hop in the truck with him so they could both get the hell out of Dodge.

  Chapter Nine

  No sooner had Caroline heard Brendan and Fiona pull away in their car than Craig swung the office door wide-open, bringing in the crisp late-afternoon autumn breeze. In fact, if she didn’t know any better, she’d think he’d been purposely waiting for the others to leave before rushing back to her rescue.

  It was on the tip of her tongue to remind him that she was more than capable of being by herself for a few minutes, but when she saw him standing before her in his dusty jeans and sweat-soaked T-shirt, her heart sent a little flutter along her nerves.

  “Why are you all dirty?”

  “The Daltons got a young bull this morning and he was pretty testy about there being a buffer field between the steer pasture and the heifers in the grazing pasture. Young buck busted through the first fence and was scratching his head against the second when I got there, totally oblivious to the thousands of jolts zappi
ng him. I had to help get him back in the pen while they retrenched the ground posts and ran the galvanized wires deeper underground to conduct a stronger current.”

  “I literally have no idea what you just said,” Caroline said.

  “Basically, one of their new bulls got loose and was trying to get to the female herd to get a jump start on the breeding season. We had to calm him down and then fix the electric fencing so that he wouldn’t try it again.”

  “And here, I didn’t need an electric fence at all,” Caroline mumbled under her breath. Last night, Craig had made it clear that he didn’t require any sort of buffer zone to stay well clear of her bedroom.

  “What was that?” he asked, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.

  She couldn’t very well admit that she’d actually been comparing him to an overexcited farm animal. Or feeling jealous of whichever lucky cow had been on the receiving end of that bull’s pent-up desire. “I just need to power off my computer and grab a couple of files and then I’ll be ready to go,” she said instead.

  “No problem,” he said. His boots paced over the wood floorboards as he walked toward the bookshelf. “I hope you didn’t stand on any chairs today.”

  “Nope. Everything was on the lower shelves.”

  “Did you eat lunch?” he asked.

  “Actually, we had a menu tasting with the caterer who is doing the fund-raiser. I saved you a portion of beef Wellington, but when you didn’t come back by two o’clock, I assumed you were eating with the Daltons. Plus, Bailey Stockton was getting pretty antsy, so I gave him your food. But if you’re hungry, we can stop at Buffalo Bart’s on the way home and get some wings. Or if you’re sick of chicken, I can whip up a lasagna for dinner.”

  “You say ‘whip up a lasagna’ like it’s the easiest thing in the world to make.”

  Caroline shrugged as she took a step closer to him, wondering if he normally kissed her hello at the end of a workday. “I like cooking. It gives my hands something to focus on so that my brain can work on all the bigger things.”

  “Speaking of your brain, how’s your head been feeling today?” He reached out to trace a finger across her forehead and she all but sighed and leaned into his hand. “Any headaches?”

  “Nope,” she replied, using his favorite word. She must’ve fallen in love with his protective and caring nature, because she certainly hadn’t fallen in love with his quiet and aloof conversation style. Actually, he was not always reserved when he was speaking. If the topic involved ranches and cattle, he could go on for days.

  But when he touched her tenderly like this, or studied her with those blue eyes dark with concern, he didn’t need to use any sort of conversation. Her thighs trembled and she felt as if she could actually pass out. Again.

  “You okay?” he asked, cupping her elbow. “I should’ve known putting in a full day at the office would be too much for you.”

  No, it was being too close to him—breathing in his musky fragrance of hard work and the outdoors—that was making Caroline suddenly grow weak. “Craig, I promise I’m perfectly healthy.”

  He took a step back, yet watched her carefully as she gathered her things—as though he wasn’t the least bit convinced that she wasn’t going to collapse at his feet at any minute.

  Then, later that evening, when they were again sitting side by side watching television while they ate dinner, Craig kept his body practically glued to the opposite end of the sofa. It was almost as though he was worried that if he touched her, she would completely go to pieces.

  Steeling her spine, she turned toward him to tell him as much. “I’ve been noticing that you’ve been keeping your distance from me lately.”

  “Lately?” he asked, but his tone wasn’t incredulous as much as it was sarcastic, suggesting that the word was some sort of understatement.

  “Ever since my accident, you back up every time I move closer to you,” she said, then scooted across the cushion to prove her point. Since the armrest prevented him from moving any more to the left, he shot forward, knocking his knee into the coffee table. “See? Every time. That’s exactly what you do.”

  “What am I doing?” he asked, standing up with their plates.

  “You’re trying to get as far away from me as you can.”

  He opened his mouth as though to deny it, but nothing came out. She also stood and took the plates from him and set them back onto the table. Then she swallowed the last bit of orange soda in her glass, wishing it was merlot for an extra boost of courage, before turning back to him and placing her palms on the fresh shirt he’d put on after his shower.

  “You know, Craig, I won’t break if you kiss me.”

  * * *

  Craig had to fight every impulse and muscle in his legs to keep from stepping back and well out of kissing range. Not that Caroline was actively trying to plant her lips on his, but she was blinking those intoxicating eyes at him and pouting her pretty little mouth, the invitation clearly extended.

  “I just think that maybe we should wait for...” For what? Why would an engaged couple wait to kiss each other? The problem was that they weren’t the average engaged couple. Or even a couple at all. He seized on that logic. “I was just waiting until you regained your memory. I don’t want it to feel like you’re kissing a stranger.”

  As impossible as it was, the small living room got even smaller, and it felt as though a cinch belt was squeezing across Craig’s chest, tethering him in place. There was no way Caroline was buying any of this.

  “I know I don’t remember you, but how could I ever think of you as a stranger? Even if I’d never laid eyes on you before I’d hit my head,” she continued and he froze, wondering if she was aware of how close she was to the truth. But instead of going with that more accurate description of the relationship, she slid her palms up to his shoulders and countered, “We’ve spent the past forty-eight hours together.”

  He looked at the digital readout on the cable box. “More like sixty hours.”

  “My point is that a loving heart is the truest wisdom.”

  Huh? Were they talking about hearts or wisdom here? Because in Craig’s mind, the two never seemed to work well together. “I’m not following you.”

  “It’s a quote by Charles Dickens. He’s my dad’s favorite author and I was named after one of his books.”

  “Still doesn’t make any of this clearer,” Craig replied.

  “What I’m trying to say is that your actions these past two days speak louder than anything else, and my heart already knows everything it needs to know about you based on how well you’ve cared for me.” Her thumbs traced circles above his shoulder blades and she asked, “Why are your muscles so tight?”

  “Because I’m trying really hard not to move right now.” There was absolutely nothing stopping him from walking straight out her door, yet he’d never felt more trapped.

  As much as he’d fought it, his attraction to Caroline was like that headstrong young bull trying to bust out of its corral today. Obviously, Craig didn’t believe in any of that nonsense about her having a wise heart or his actions speaking loudly or whatever else it was she was suggesting. But there was some sort of unexplainable connection between them. Some sort of magical fencing that zapped at his senses if he so much as moved, so much as acted upon this attraction.

  “Here,” she said, sliding her hands down his arms and pulling his wrists around her waist. “Let me help you.”

  Craig gulped. He certainly didn’t need her help moving closer. Yet, she felt so damn good, her tiny waist warm under his loose grip. At this point, he might need a jolt of ten thousand electric volts just to keep him away.

  When her fingers returned to his shoulders and traced underneath the opening of his collar, he offered one last warning. “What happens if you end up regretting this?”

  “How will we know unless you kiss me?”
she asked, her breath whispering against his lips.

  Oh, hell. One little kiss wasn’t going to hurt.

  When he dipped his head to hers, pain was the last thing on his mind. In fact, finally kissing her felt like pulling into his driveway after months of being on the road. She opened her lips and her tongue tentatively reached out to his. Heat and urgency filled him and he drew her in closer and responded with his own tongue, more forceful and more exploratory.

  Caroline pressed her small, lithe body against his and every alarm inside him went off. This was too much. She was too much. Craig couldn’t let things go any further. Breaking his lips away from hers was the easy part. Maintaining the distance and getting his breathing under control was way more difficult.

  Well, that and trying to ignore the way Caroline’s chest pressed against his as her lungs expanded with each of her little breaths. Her fingers were twisted into his collar and his hands were still cupped under her backside and he slowly dragged them back up to her waist.

  Her cheeks were flushed and her lids appeared to be heavy since they were halfway closed as she studied his mouth.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, more for himself than for her. He’d kissed plenty of women before, but none as responsive as her. Craig didn’t know if he would ever be okay again.

  “I think I felt something,” she whispered and he tried not to take the words personally. He’d just felt his entire world burst out of the chute and she thought that perhaps she might’ve felt something? “But just to be sure, maybe you should kiss me again.”

  Compelled to make her feel more than just something, Craig lowered his head to hers again, then pulled back right before their lips met.

  “Just one more,” he murmured, needing all of his energy to fight this inner battle of self-control. The inner battle he was clearly already in danger of losing. “We can’t go any further.”

  When he kissed her the second time, it was even better than the first. Their lips already knew how to move over each other’s. Her mouth already knew how wide it needed to open to accept his probing tongue, and her hips knew just where to press against his, cradling his stiff arousal.