Texas Christmas Twins

by Deb Kastner

  Simon.

  Had he finally decided to ask her to dance?

  She turned, a smile already forming on her lips, but it wasn’t Simon staring down at her. Technically, no one was looking down on her at all. It was Kyle Peterson, and being as short as he was, he was staring up, his gaze full of blatant admiration.

  Simon had accused her of using her charm on the officer last time they’d met, but she hadn’t seen what Simon had seen.

  This time, she did. Her heart sank.

  “Officer,” she said, trying to mask her disappointment. Instead, she sounded choked, like she had just swallowed a bullfrog whole.

  “Kyle, please.”

  “You look different in plain clothes.”

  That was a dumb thing to say. She’d seen him out of uniform dozens of times before. He attended the same community church as she. But she’d never noticed him.

  He tugged at his collar and cleared his throat.

  “You look—that dress is amazing.”

  “Er—thank you,” she said, uncomfortable with the way he was complimenting her—and with his almost gawking perusal.

  There was nothing wrong with Kyle, exactly. He was handsome in his own way, if a little short for Miranda’s taste. He just wasn’t her type—

  Or maybe it wasn’t so much that he wasn’t her type as that she was comparing him to the one man in Wildhorn who had caught her interest.

  She couldn’t help that her gaze trailed around the room, following her heart as she looked for Simon. She finally found him leaning against a post that had been decorated like a candy cane, wrapped in red and white ribbon.

  He’d apparently lost his smile when he’d parted from his foster parents, because his expression now was as hard as stone.

  She caught his gaze and smiled, hoping he would realize she needed rescuing and come ask her to dance.

  No deal. He tipped his hat to her and his frown deepened.

  She had the distinct feeling he was upset with her for some reason, though she couldn’t imagine why. They’d parted on good terms the last time they’d seen each other.

  But with Simon, it was always a toss-up. She ought to know by now that she could never gauge his mood. She’d never met anyone quite as unpredictable as he was.

  “I was hoping to snag a dance with you,” Kyle said, his voice rising. “We never did get that coffee.”

  “I—uh—” Reluctantly, she turned her attention back to Kyle. They hadn’t gone for coffee because Miranda had never agreed to his request, although with the spark in his eyes, she wondered if he remembered it that way. Asking her to dance had caught her off guard, although she supposed it shouldn’t have.

  This was a party, and people were dancing.

  Too bad the only man in the room she wanted to dance with was staring a hole through her back.

  He wasn’t going to rescue her.

  Well, he could hang his stony expression on his beak.

  She was going to dance.

  “Thank you, yes,” she told Kyle, feeling a little guilty when his expression lit up like the brightly decorated evergreen in the middle of the room. “I’d love to dance.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Simon watched Kyle encircle Miranda’s waist through narrowed eyes. He didn’t move a muscle, afraid if he did, it would be to stalk over to where they were dancing and snatch Miranda out of Kyle’s far-too-familiar arms.

  “What are you waiting for, buddy?” Mason jerked Simon from his thoughts when he bumped shoulders with him.

  Was it that obvious?

  Granted, Mason knew Simon better than most folks did, but he hoped his admiration for Miranda—and his sheer frustration that she was dancing with any other man besides him—wasn’t somehow being publicly broadcast through his expression.

  That was all he needed—Mason razzing him about Miranda.

  He shook his head. He wasn’t going to give himself away that easily. “Waiting for what?”

  “Oh, come on. Admit it. You have a thing for Miranda.”

  Simon cringed. His feelings for Miranda, as confusing as they were, were bound to come out sooner or later. He ought to be appalled with himself, although he couldn’t quite find it in him to feel it as much as he knew he ought to be. He was tearing the man code into pieces and he didn’t know how to stop it.

  “I don’t—”

  “Charlotte and I have been observing the two of you doing this crazy back and forth thing for some time now. You’re clearly attracted to each other. Wouldn’t it be easier to just admit how you feel and go get what you want?”

  That was half the problem. Simon didn’t know what he wanted.

  Not exactly.

  Whenever he thought about Miranda, his insides started getting all twisted up and his mind...

  His heart...

  He groaned softly.

  “If I did feel something,” he said tentatively, “and I’m not saying that I do—she’s your little sister. How do you feel about that?”

  Mason chuckled. “I don’t know whether you’ve noticed or not, but Miranda is all grown up now.”

  “I’ve noticed,” he muttered, not quite looking Mason in the eye.

  “Oh, I get it. You don’t want to date her because she’s my sister, and guys aren’t supposed to do that.”

  “I never said I didn’t want to date her.”

  Mason pumped his fist. “Then you do want to date her. Ha. I knew it.”

  “It’s complicated.”

  Mason slapped his back. “Isn’t it always, where women are concerned?”

  They chuckled in agreement.

  “There’s women, and then there’s my best friend’s younger sister,” Simon felt obligated to point out. “That is not the same thing.”

  “Look. I’m cool with it. I promise I’m not going to go all haywire on you if you have a relationship with Miranda, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “And if it ends badly?” Simon couldn’t believe he was actually having this discussion with Mason. Saying it out loud made it real. “What happens then?”

  “Will it?”

  “I hope not.”

  “Then don’t borrow trouble. Nothing is going to come between you and me. Our friendship is too important. But so is what you feel for Miranda. For all you know you could be watching her walking down the aisle to you before long.”

  Married men always wanted single men to get married. Simon thought that was because they wanted them to suffer in the same way.

  At any time in the past, Mason’s annoying statement would have sent him running for the hills. But now...

  “And the twins,” Simon added.

  “What?” Mason looked puzzled.

  “When I picture it, the twins would be walking down the aisle with Miranda. They are a package deal.”

  Mason grinned like the Cheshire cat and punched Simon on the biceps.

  “Now, see? That’s what I’m talking about. That’s exactly why you’re the right guy for her. You see Miranda and the twins as a package deal and you want it that way.”

  “Doesn’t Miranda have a say in this? She might disagree with you on all counts.”

  “She doesn’t. Disagree with me, I mean. I can ask her what she thinks of you, but I already know what her answer is going to be.” Mason gestured toward the dance floor, where Miranda was dancing a second song with Kyle Peterson.

  “Look at her. She’s miserable out there.”

  Simon had to admit he thought so, too. They looked ridiculous together. Miranda was clearly uncomfortable. She would have towered over the animal control officer even if she wasn’t wearing heels. Which she was.

  She needed a taller man.

  She needed him.

/>   He was plenty tall enough for her, heels or no heels. She fit right into the crook of his shoulder as if she was made for it.

  “That doesn’t look right at all, does it?” Mason scoffed.

  “No, it does not.”

  And Simon was aiming to fix it.

  Now.

  * * *

  Miranda couldn’t have been more surprised when Simon took her hand right out of Kyle’s, twirled her around and whirled her away without a word of explanation.

  One second she was in Kyle’s arms, and the next she was in Simon’s. She ought to be affronted by his alpha-man tactics, but really, she couldn’t complain.

  She wanted to be in Simon’s arms.

  “You probably should go apologize,” she said.

  Kyle was still standing in the middle of the dance floor, stunned into inertia.

  Simon chuckled. “You’re right. I probably should. And I will. Later. Right now I want to dance with you.”

  “Really? Because I got the impression earlier that you were unhappy about something. Something to do with me.”

  “Was I? I don’t remember.”

  “Well, you were smiling when you came in the door with Edith, but when I saw you later—”

  “You were talking to Officer Peterson.”

  Miranda’s heart warmed when he didn’t offer more of an explanation than that. He hadn’t liked what he saw. He made it sound like the only right place for her to be was—

  In his arms.

  And at the moment she couldn’t agree more.

  She leaned her head against his chest and he tucked his chin on top of her head, drawing her close and swaying softly to the music. He was a good dancer, a natural leader and easy to follow. Which was good, since Miranda was not as coordinated.

  She’d always felt awkward dancing. But not now.

  She knew things were far from settled between them, and if they were headed toward a real relationship, they were both taking teeny-tiny baby steps, but right here, right now, she was in his arms, listening to the quick, steady tempo of his heartbeat, and everything was right in her world.

  Who would have guessed that ten years after pining for a boy in high school, a young man who had laughed at her and brought her down, she’d be dancing with that very same boy, now grown into a rugged, handsome man whose angry youth was a thing of the past.

  The feelings she’d experienced as an angst-ridden teenager paled in comparison to the way her heart expanded with the most tender of emotions now. Every nerve ending snapped and crackled pleasantly like a warm fire on a cold day.

  “Lookee here.” From behind her, some guy’s hand stole out and made contact with Simon’s shoulder, knocking them both off balance. He pulled her closer and swung them around to keep them upright.

  “The cowboy and the celebrity chick. How do you rate, West? What did you have to do to get her attention?”

  “Knock it off, Russell,” Simon muttered.

  “Just ignore him.”

  “Yeah,” he agreed, but his tension was palpable.

  “Thinkin’ about marrying up? Like way, way up. She’s out of your zip code, buddy,” another man said.

  “Mind your manners, Alfie Redmond,” she scolded, but that only made Simon’s jaw harden more.

  “She’s so far out of your league, pal. Wishful thinking.”

  Miranda didn’t even know the third man. Why did they all have to gang up and pick on Simon? She knew he had to be extra-sensitive to being bullied, even if it was all in fun—and Miranda wasn’t sure it was all in fun.

  The guys, who all had women in their arms and were sorta-kinda dancing, had maneuvered around Simon and Miranda, making a circle and blocking them in, the jerks.

  Simon stiffened and Miranda leaned back enough to catch his gaze.

  Clearly the men’s razzing was getting to him, but she didn’t see why it should. Either these guys were all friends of his giving their buddy a hard time, or they were grown-up bullies. And Simon knew what to do with bullies.

  “They’re not worth it,” she murmured.

  What they were saying was ridiculous. In her eyes, she and Simon were perfectly matched. It wasn’t as if she was better than him in any way, just because she’d been a celebrity photographer and he’d stayed here in Wildhorn to pursue his own dreams. She admired what he’d done with his life. There were many qualities about Simon she wished were part of her own character.

  And as far as personalities went, Simon definitely held his own when they were together, even when they clashed.

  And yet clearly he was bothered by the men’s words. Maybe it was thoughts of his past rising up to taunt him.

  And all because of her stupid dress.

  She now deeply regretted her choice of attire. She should have known better. Why had she ever wanted to wear a sparkly cocktail dress to a party in Wildhorn?

  Because she didn’t mind standing out in a crowd.

  But Simon did.

  “Don’t you guys have anything better to do with your time than give us grief?” she asked, not quite able to keep the annoyance from her tone. “Your dates are going to abandon you if you don’t pay attention to them.”

  Russell’s date playfully slapped his chest. “That’s right, big guy. After all this nonsense, I’m thirsty. Let’s go find the punch bowl.”

  Russell laughed and let his date lead him away, and without him, the other two instigators danced their dates off in different directions.

  Good. Well, that was settled.

  Simon stopped dancing and stood stock-still, his muscles clenched tight.

  “Men just never grow up, do they?”

  She hoped her flippant observation would bring a smile to Simon’s face, or at least unravel the coils of tension in his arms and shoulders, but instead, his jaw tightened with strain and his gaze grew hard.

  “What is it?” she asked, wondering if he now regretted cutting in on her dance with Kyle. If he hadn’t been dancing with her...

  “It’s nothing.” He started rocking them slowly back and forth, but he was so tense that the movement was awkward and arrhythmic.

  “Maybe we should just go,” she suggested, meaning that they should leave the dance floor. Get a snack, or find the twins.

  His expression lightened in relief. “You should stay. Have fun. But only if you’re sure you really don’t mind if I skip out of here.”

  “You’re leaving the party?” she asked, confused.

  “Isn’t that what you just suggested?”

  “No. I only meant—”

  “They’re right,” Simon cut in.

  “What? The men? Right about what?”

  “You’re too good for me.”

  She snorted. “That is about the most ridiculous statement I have ever heard come out of your mouth. This is about this outlandish dress. It’s over-the-top and draws too much attention. I should have known better and I wish I had never worn it.”

  “It’s not the dress. Although let me say you are more beautiful than any other woman in the room.”

  “Thank you, I think. But I—”

  She felt like she should apologize to him for something, but other than drawing attention because of the dress, she wasn’t sure what that was.

  Their gazes met and locked, and she reached out to him with her eyes, baring all the emotions she was feeling in her heart. His usual sea-blue eyes darkened like a tempest and his arms tightened around her.

  Their attraction to each other was visceral. There was no way either one of them could deny it.

  And she no longer wanted to.

  “Simon,” she breathed.

  “Miranda, I—”

  He dropped his arms to his sides, his fists clenching and unclenching,
his breath coming in uneven puffs.

  “This isn’t going to happen.”

  It wasn’t a definitive statement by any means. He sounded like he was trying to convince himself.

  From her perspective, it was happening, and there was nothing either one of them could do to stop it. Their relationship was like a boulder let loose at the top of a high hill, gaining momentum as it tumbled down the side of the mountain.

  Sure, they were polar opposites in every way, but if anything, that only made them stronger as a potential couple. He made up where she was lacking, and she liked to think she lent strength to him when he needed it, although she was clearly failing in that now.

  He’d been through so many trials in his life. Surely a trio of overzealous testosterone-filled men wasn’t going to trip him up from what could be a really good thing.

  That wasn’t the Simon she knew.

  He was a fighter, a scrapper. He’d told her that himself. He stood up for what he believed in, and just now, when their gazes had met, she’d been certain he believed in her.

  In them.

  But then he was striding away from her with long, determined steps, headed straight for the door.

  And he didn’t look back.

  Chapter Twelve

  Simon hadn’t run away because of anything the guys had said. He had walked away to give Miranda the opportunity to discover her freedom. To dance with other men and flutter around the room like the butterfly she was.

  This was all about her. But he couldn’t stand there and watch it.

  He cared enough to walk away before their hearts became any more entwined than they already were. He’d felt the tug of his heart and the undeniable chemistry every time their gazes met, and he knew it wasn’t all one-sided.

  She cared for him, too.

  Mason had encouraged the relationship. He might even have mentioned it to Miranda. But Mason was wrong.

  And the guys at the dance, well, they were jerks, but they were spot-on.

  Simon wasn’t good enough for Miranda, and even more so because she came part and parcel with that beautiful set of twins.

  He was just a poor, simple cowboy.