Ross killed the engine. “It’s a tree farm of sorts. It’s my land, and I got up before day break to plow the road so we could get this far. We’ll have to walk the rest of the way.”
He got out and shut the door before she could protest, so she did the same.
“Did you bring bread crumbs?” She pointed at the dense forest. “If we get lost in there, they won’t find our lifeless bodies until the spring thaw.” No wonder he’d told her to dress warm and wear real winter boots instead of her sequined Uggs.
Which reminded her…
“You seriously expect us to break a trail through that?” She pointed to a clearing off to the left that glistened with untouched snow. Considering the amount of snow that had already fallen that season, knee-deep was probably a conservative estimate. “My lungs hurt already.”
He reached over the side of his truck and retrieved two pairs of snowshoes. “That’s why I brought these.” He came around to her side of the truck and opened the passenger door. “Hop in. I’ll help you put them on.” He slid his aviators to rest on top of his head.
She climbed back into the passenger seat, letting her legs dangle out of the open door.
Ross went down on a knee.
For a moment, Kimberly’s heart fluttered. Her tummy flip-flopped.
Her uterus—the little hussy—quivered.
If she and Ross were in love, she’d swear he was about to propose, and the thought made her brain go fuzzy and her insides fill with emotions she didn’t understand. Had never wanted to understand, because that meant having to count on someone other than herself.
They absolutely were not in love, though. Nor would they ever be. So, Ladyland—the traitorous witch she obviously was—could go back into hibernation and stop putting ridiculous thoughts into Kimberly’s head.
Ross took her foot and studied it, his gentleness a tell-tell sign of the kind of guy he was. Burly and brawny, but gentle and considerate.
“You have big feet for such a little person.” He slid the snowshoe onto her boot, tightening the straps.
Um. Okay.
She bit down on her tongue to force herself back to reality.
“Thanks for pointing that out. It’s every gal’s dream to be told they have big feet. Kind of like calling a guy cute.”
“Sorry.” He reached for her other foot. “I just meant that my sister’s snowshoes will fit you better than I thought because she had big feet, too, like me.”
Kimberly went quiet. His sister had big feet, as in past tense?
Seemed like Kimberly wasn’t the only one holding back painful experiences from the past.
Ross finished securing the straps, but instead of getting up, he held onto her ankle. His touch was tender. Through a pair of thermals, snow pants, and boots!
Kimberly’s heart thrummed.
His gaze traveled up her length all the way to her knit cap. “You look nice, by the way.”
Involuntarily, she ran a hand over her winter cap. “You noticed. Most guys don’t.”
“I’m not most guys,” he said.
Didn’t she know it.
He stood, bracing a hand against the top of the doorframe, and leaned closer. “I gotta say, Kimberly, you don’t usually dress like this, so is the new look for me?”
She scoffed. “No.”
His expression went stony.
“I’ve got to brave the fiery darts of hell that are likely going to be thrown at me when I personally visit every business in town as soon as we’re done here. I wanted to make a good impression.”
He gave her a skeptical look.
Or maybe it was disappointment.
“I do the same to impress a judge. Do you think I show up in court wearing sequined boots?” She shook her head. “I wear conservative power suits.” She pursed her lips to keep from mentioning that she always put on bright unconventional lingerie under those suits, because hello, she had to stay true to herself somehow. “I have a total of two suits; one black and one navy.”
Creases formed above his brows. “I guess I never considered how you dress for court.” Then he smiled. “I’d really love to see you trying to look conservative in one of those suits with that hair.”
She let her eyes bug out at the pseudo insult. “I’ll have you know that most people love my hair.” Not really, but whatever. She ran a hand over her cap again, even though her hair was completely covered except for the tips. “But I do comb it flat instead of wearing it wild when I go to court. It’s in my clients’ best interest to assimilate.”
“And I’ll have you know that I’m one of the people who love your hair. It suits your personality,” he said. “I’m also impressed that making the Wishing Tree a success for the kids means so much to you that you’d dress out of character for it.”
Oh. Well, okay.
“I’ll have a long list of wishes for the tree within a few days. So I need every business and resident in Red River to take one of those wishes and make it come true. Otherwise, it’ll be just another disappointment for children who have likely already suffered way too many disappointments in their young lives.”
Silence filled the air as he studied her, as though he was seeing her for the first time.
Red flag. Had she said too much? Just enough for him to get a glimpse of how damaged she was from her pathetic upbringing?
She scrunched her nose. “Why on earth did you buy land way out here, when you have a perfectly nice cabin at the lodge?”
He pulled in a breath and looked around, taking in his property. “I figured I’d want to start a family some day, and this would be a really nice place to build a house and raise kids.”
Her breath caught in her chest.
Kids. Family. A home, instead of just a house.
She couldn’t take much more. Ross was great husband material for someone who actually wanted a husband. He’d make an even better father, she’d bet. The thought of him swinging little kids, who looked just like him, on a swing set, then climbing into bed with his wife at the end of the day … a wife who definitely would not have the name Kimberly Perez…
Well, it made her feel even more empty.
“Well, good for you. I’ll come to the wedding when you meet Mrs. Right.” She pushed on his shoulders. “Come on, big guy. Do your lumberjack routine and go kill an innocent tree just to save Christmas for Red River.”
He knelt and went to work on his own shoes. “I plant five saplings for every tree I cut down.”
Of course he did. It was impossible to find even the smallest thing to dislike about Ross. Which was why she’d played the disappearing game several months ago, and made herself scarce when he was around town.
When he was done with his shoes, he let out a sharp whistle that pierced through the cold air.
Comet bounded over the console into the front seat and placed a paw on each of Kimberly’s shoulders. His big chops rested on top of her head.
Ross belly laughed. “Perfect.” He reached inside his pocket and retrieved a phone. “I have to have a picture of this. It’s going on my desk as one of my favorite Christmas memories, right next to the last Christmas I was able to spend with my sister, Noelle.”
For a moment, all the joy melted from his eyes, his mouth, his very countenance.
Her name was Noelle? There had to be a sad story there, and it must’ve been the reason he went crazy over Christmas. And Kimberly had teased him for it. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
And just like that, he was back to the old Ross, snapping off pictures with a smile. “It’s fine. This makes it okay, because it’s exactly the kind of thing that would’ve made her happy. Come on, Grinch, smile for the camera.”
Kimberly rolled her eyes, then struck a pose. Then she circled her arms behind her head and around Comet’s neck. The dog whimpered, and when she looked up at him, the damned thing licked her right on the mouth.
Kimberly crinkled up her entire face, but she couldn’t bring herself to pull away, because th
is was obviously Ross’s way of paying tribute to the sister he’d lost. “Eww!” Kimberly clamped her eyes shut and let Comet cover her face with sloppy kisses. She gave Ross an I give up look while the dog had his way with her ear.
Ross clicked off more pictures, then stared at his phone with a frown. “I guess the cold got to it because it just shut down.” He put the phone away and started toward Kimberly.
“Then can you get your dog off me?” Kimberly patted Comet on the head. “Between the French kiss and the wet willy he gave me, he’s already gotten to second base. That’s further than I’ve let any guy go since…” Her voice trailed off at the look in Ross’s eyes as he advanced on her.
He stopped in front of her, lips parted, eyes smoky. “Since when, Kimberly?” If she’d thought the deep tenor of his voice was sexy before, the huskiness that vibrated through it now was panty-melting hot.
“Um.” The tip of her tongue slipped through her parted lips to trace the seam. “What?”
“How long has it been?” Ross placed a gloved hand on each of her thighs and smoothed them up to her hips.
“Wh…why?” She tried to shimmy backward, but Comet was in the way. “I mean, it’s not like it’s any of your business.” She gave him a friendly slug to the arm. “Right, big guy?” Then she snorted out a fake laugh.
His eyes wandered over her face and anchored to her mouth. Frosty breaths filled the small space between them, their noses almost touching. “I suppose it’s not, but I wouldn’t mind making it my business. So, how long?”
She nibbled on her bottom lip. “Um, well,” she whispered. “I’m having something of a dry spell.”
Who was she kidding? Her sex life was like the Mojave.
At the moment, Ross Armstrong strongly resembled an oasis that was calling to her for a long, refreshing drink.
“I could help you out with that,” he murmured. “If you wanted me to.”
Heat zinged through her veins.
He placed a finger under her chin and lifted her gaze to his, their eyes locking.
It was the simplest, yet the most intimate of gestures. His touch and his eyes both communicated a softness that Kimberly had never known. Never let herself experience because it couldn’t last. If a man could actually get past the crazy clothes, wild hair, and flamboyant personality—which were there to keep men out to begin with—they wouldn’t want her once they saw underneath the façade.
Kimberly didn’t do rejection. She’d had enough of that to last two lifetimes, and she’d never give anyone that kind of power over her emotions again.
Yet in that moment, maybe one kiss wouldn’t hurt. Maybe a kiss from a man who looked at her as though he wanted to give her much more.
Before she knew what she was doing, she gave her head a tiny nod.
Ross let out a low throaty growl, then he took her mouth with his.
Red hot fire arrowed straight to her core, and she moaned. Moaned!
Which made him growl again and crush his lips harder to hers, wrapping her in his arms. Her lips parted, and she snaked her arms around his neck.
His tongue—his wonderful, glorious tongue—swooped in and took charge. Not gentle this time, but demanding and driven with need.
She sighed into his mouth and melted into him.
He framed her face with both hands and angled her head, then deepened the kiss, bringing it to surface-of-the-sun hot.
Her desire spiked, crashing through her to drown out the voice in the back of her mind that told her this wasn’t a good idea.
When she slid both hands under his jacket to warm them against his flannel shirt, he groaned.
Comet barked.
They pulled apart, and Kimberly touched her swollen lips with her fingertips.
Ross closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against hers. “Can we pick this up later tonight?” He chuckled. “Preferably indoors, where it’s warm?” He glanced around her. “And where I can give Comet a bone and shut him in the pantry for a while.”
“Look, Ross—”
“Tonight.” He stepped away and withdrew a chainsaw out of the back of his truck. “We either continue this or you tell me why we can’t, because we both obviously want it to happen. Either way, it’s your choice.” He stepped over a bank of untouched snow and started breaking a trail. “The tree I’ve got in mind isn’t that far, so follow me.”
Comet whined at her back, so she slid out of the truck and took a few steps to get used to the snowshoes.
The dog bounded out of the truck, with his antlers bouncing around, and followed Ross.
Ross was someone she wished she could follow, too, and not just through the snow but through life. She’d given up on that dream a long time ago, though. Resolved in her heart that it was better to be alone than to be let down, or worse, end up disappointing someone like him.
He’d labeled her a Grinch. Maybe that’s exactly what she’d be if it meant saving him from herself.
Chapter Seven
Chopping down and transporting a huge tree all by their lonesomes hadn’t been as difficult as Kimberly thought it would be. Ross had tied down the branches so they wouldn’t break, used the winch attached to the front of his truck to drag it to the road where they’d been parked, then hoisted it onto the flatbed trailer with a mini-crane, which was built into the bed of his truck.
And voila. Pretty impressive.
Not nearly as impressive as the kiss he’d laid on her, though.
As they drove back to town, she kept quiet, giving one-word answers or nods to his questions and comments. Finally, she reached over and turned up the radio, found a hard rock station, and played the headbanger music so loud there was no way they could have carried on a conversation.
Without a word, Ross switched it to a softer station.
She switched it back to rock and roll.
He let out an exasperated sigh, and his lips pinched. He turned off the radio altogether and guarded the on-off switch with one hand.
To say the silence inside the truck had been awkward was an understatement.
Mission more than accomplished. She’d wanted to act the Grinch to push him away so he wouldn’t have false hope, and she’d achieved that in spades.
Which made her feel like the brown pile Comet had left steaming out in the snow-white wilderness.
She got out her clipboard, flipped to a blank page and started to doodle. Before she knew it, she’d sketched a picture of Comet wearing his annoying antlers.
Ross took his eyes off the road just long enough to see her drawing. “Nice. Where did you learn to draw like that?”
She flipped the other pages back over the top of the clipboard to cover her sketch. “Nowhere. It was just something I started doing when I was a kid to stay busy when there were no toys or video games available.” Hell, many of her foster homes hadn’t had sufficient heating in the winter, cooling in the summer, or even food on a daily basis. When she could find a piece of paper and a pen or pencil, it had been like striking gold.
“You must’ve been born with natural talent, because you’re good at it.” Ross coasted to a stop in front of the park.
“It’s just chicken scratch.” She waved him off dismissively.
He pinched the bridge of his nose, as if to say he was at the end of his rope with her.
A group of brawny men stood in a circle chatting it up next to the gazebo.
“I texted them before we started back to town.” Ross put the truck into park and killed the engine. “They’re here to help set up the tree.”
“Wow, Ross. You’ve got superpowers with that contacts list of yours.” She let out a friendly chuckle. Not her usual full-on snort, but enough of a laugh to try and lighten the mood. “They’re like our own personal elves.”
Apparently, he didn’t appreciate her smartassery. Without responding, he got out of the truck, called Comet to follow, and slammed the door a little harder than she’d expected.
She put a palm against her forehead.
Pushing him away was one thing. Pissing him off so royally was quite another. A nice guy like Ross didn’t deserve that kind of treatment.
She grabbed her clipboard and opened her door. She stopped. Tapped her pen against the paper on top. What could it hurt to leave him a memento of their Christmas decorating expedition? Because when it was over, she didn’t plan on spending time with him anymore. Didn’t plan on giving him false hope. She flipped to Comet’s portrait, tore it out and left it on the dash. Then she went around to the rear of the trailer, where Ross was loosening the straps over the tree.
The group of helpers were strolling toward the curb.
“Listen, big guy,” she said, unable to stop fidgeting.
Without looking up or even acknowledging her presence, Ross kept loosening the straps that held the tree in place.
His team of helpers got closer, and she knew there wasn’t enough time to smooth things over, so she had to talk fast. “You seem to have this part handled, so I’m going to start working on the rest of our list.” She tapped the clipboard.
Still no answer.
She heaved out a breath. “I’ll…” The group of men was almost to the edge of the park. “I’ll check in with you later so we can give Ms. Clydelle an update on our progress.”
When he gave her a nod that was barely noticeable, she turned and walked toward the nearest strip of offices so she could start gathering supporters for the Wishing Tree. By the time she was done, she had a long list of local businesses who were willing to make a child’s Christmas wish come true.
She also had a mob of business owners who had all but threatened—with a friendly smile on their faces—to chase her out of town with pitchforks if she didn’t see to it that Red River’s tradition was continued by cheerfully decorating it for the holidays.
The bell over the door jingled as she left the last of the shops along Main Street and stepped onto the sidewalk. She came to an abrupt halt so as not to plow into Ms. Clydelle and Ms. Francine.
Geez, did they have a satellite radar locked onto her location? Or maybe they’d implanted a GPS locator when she was asleep. “Um, morning, ladies.” Kimberly clutched her clipboard to her chest.
It's In His Christmas Wish (A Red River Valley Novel Book 7) Page 6