A Christmas Homecoming (Bar V5 Ranch)

by Melissa McClone

  Preferably before New Year's Eve.

  He'd like someone special to kiss when the clock struck midnight and start the year off right.

  Nate glanced at the brightly lit house. He'd left more lights on than he realized. At least the interior wouldn't be dark when he went inside. Empty and quiet though.

  The off-season sucked. He'd take summer anytime, when the Bar V5 was full of staff and guests. No time to be bored... or lonely. He'd thought about staying open in the winter, running the ranch like a B&B, but Ty liked giving the horses time to rest. Maybe once the upgrades and remodeling projects were completed they should reconsider.

  Nate set the wreath on the front porch, making a mental note to find the hanger, and headed to the mudroom. A silver pickup with an American flag decal in the back window caught his eye.

  Ty Murphy—his best friend and partner, though Ty preferred to call himself the foreman—was here. Not surprising. Ty was the hardest worker Nate knew, the one person he could always count on.

  He kicked the snow from his ostrich dress boots and opened the mudroom door.

  The smell of ginger, nutmeg, and cinnamon slammed into him like a stampeding steer. Only this didn't hurt.

  Well, his stomach did. Hunger pains.

  His mouth watered with anticipation. He had no idea what was baking or which of his employees had started the morning off in the kitchen, but he wanted a taste.

  The scent of Christmas circled his head, tantalizing his nose and taste buds. If he could bottle and sell the scent, he would make a fortune. He glanced around to make sure he hadn't entered the wrong house.

  Nope, this was the Bar V5, the place he'd grown up and, God willing, where he'd die and be buried when his time came.

  He hoped that wasn't in the next five minutes, but if the Grim Reaper was on his way, Nate had better get into the kitchen so he could get a bite of whatever was cooking first. He placed the duffel bag strap on his shoulder then stepped through the doorway.

  What the...

  Silver mixing bowls, spoons and pans stacked haphazardly on top of each other in the sink like a culinary edition of Jenga. Pull one thing out and the entire pile would tumble down.

  Cereal bowls, full of different colors of icing, sat in a cluster on the island. Pastry bags twisted like licorice between plastic containers full of sprinkles and candies.

  Decorating cookies?

  He took a closer look.

  Not cookies. Gingerbread.

  Like his mom used to make.

  That explained the smell.

  He rubbed his chin. Stubble pricked his fingers.

  Someone had made themselves at home, but who? Ty grilled. He could smoke a mean brisket. But bake? Not likely. The other wranglers usually stuck to the bunkhouse. Maybe elves had decided to pay a visit.

  Nate circled the island for a closer look.

  White icing held together rectangular and square pieces of gingerbread in various stages of construction. Houses, cottages, even a barn.

  On the far counter, miniature white lights illuminated the insides and hung along the eaves of three houses. Christmas trees made from star shaped cookies were strung with lights, too.

  Charming and creative.

  He wanted a taste.

  A small piece of gingerbread, the size of a window cutout, and a few others sat on a paper towel. Scraps to be tossed? No one would miss one. He popped a square into his mouth.

  Flavors exploded with just the right mixture of spices and sweetness. Oh, yeah. Whoever baked this knew what they were doing. Wanting more, he reached for another piece. His hand froze. He did a double take.

  One of the gingerbread houses looked like the Crawford House. Same Victorian architecture. Similar gables and bay windows. A hint of the whimsical.

  Cha-ching.

  Mrs. Annabeth Collier, formerly Crawford, one of Marietta's First Families, would pay top dollar for a custom gingerbread house. Rather her daughter Chelsea's billionaire boyfriend Jasper Flint would. And not only them.

  Nate wanted one of the Bar V5.

  People around here went all out for the holidays. These houses would go over big. He didn't know how much one cost to make or the profit margin, but with the right marketing...

  "Hello." The feminine voice wrapped around him, warm and welcoming as the scent of gingerbread baking. "Can I help you?"

  He turned toward the sweet-as-molasses sound.

  A twenty-something woman stood in the laundry room doorway. Blonde hair piled haphazardly on top of her head. Strands stuck out of the messy bun. A puzzled expression complete with two little creases above her nose made him want to see a smile on her pretty face. Clear complexion, straight nose, full lips and warm hazel eyes.

  His pulse rate kicked up a notch, maybe two. Okay, five.

  Nate recognized, but he couldn't quite place the color of her eyes. But the way the color changed from light brown to green to a golden hue captivated him.

  She wore a simple purple long-sleeved turtleneck, but streaks of white across her chest—flour perhaps?—distracted him, made him want to volunteer for cleanup duty. Faded jeans hugged her hips and thighs until flaring slightly at her calves. Long legs and curvy in all the right places.

  Cute candy cane striped sock-covered toes peeked out the bottom. The pattern amused and intrigued him. Part of an elf's costume or holiday attire?

  Either way, Christmas had come early.

  He'd been good this year and deserved a reward from Santa. Hot gingerbread baked by a hot woman was making him hot. The only improvement to his wonderful gift would be if she was naked and wearing a red ribbon. Though he could live without the ribbon.

  His heart raced, as if trying to catch his horse Arrow when the stallion had escaped from the pasture. Sweat dampened the back of his neck. Had someone turned up the heat?

  Her mouth twitched. She looked like she was waiting for something.

  Oh, yeah. Him. "Hi."

  Clever, Vaughn. Impressive show of eloquence with a two-letter word. He would try again. "Thanks for the offer, but I'm good. I don't need any help."

  His mouth twisted. He felt tongue-tied like a teenager talking to his first crush.

  "Are you a ranch hand?" She studied him. "Or Nate?"

  "Nate." She knew his name, but he didn't have a clue who she was or why she was walking around like she owned the place. He should probably care more than he did. But she was pretty and her cooking smelled delicious and most importantly, she wasn't holding a cell phone or pointing a gun or, he double-checked her left hand, wearing a wedding ring. "And you're..."

  "I was rinsing out my apron in the laundry room," she said at the same time. A charming pink spread across her face. "Sorry, I'm Rachel."

  "Rachel." A lovely name to go with a beautiful woman. A woman he wanted to get to know better. Intimately. Before New Year's Eve. "Nice to meet you."

  "You, too." She walked toward him, a subtle sway to her hips he found mesmerizing. "Ty's told me so much about you."

  "Ty?"

  She nodded. "Thanks for letting me use your kitchen."

  Yesterday's forgotten conversation rushed back, bunching Nate's muscles. He rubbed the back of his neck. He knew exactly why her hazel eyes looked familiar.

  "You're Ty's sister." So much for an early Christmas present. Nate should have known finding a beautiful blonde cooking in his kitchen was too good to be true. "You're older than I thought you'd be."

  The corners of Rachel's mouth curved upward in an almost smile. "Ty thinks I'm still a kid with ponytails crushing on boy bands."

  I don't. But Nate couldn't say that about his friend's sister when said friend was as protective of her as a new foal's momma. "Ty's a good guy."

  "The best."

  Nate's gaze held hers a moment too long. He looked away so she wouldn't think he might be interested in her.

  Not going to cross that line, even if he were tempted. He was, but Ty meant too much to Nate for him to do something stupid like put a m
ove on Rachel.

  He motioned to the gingerbread houses. "Nice work."

  She stood on the opposite side of the island. "Thanks."

  "Are they gifts?"

  The lines above her nose deepened. She picked up a bag full of white icing. "No."

  "Planning to sell them?"

  "Does it matter?"

  A little defensive. He wondered why. "Just curious."

  About the gingerbread, he reminded himself.

  "I made a house for Ty. A friend of his saw it. She ordered one. Then another friend ordered another, and well, here I am."

  "Nice way to earn extra cash."

  Another nod. "We'll see how many more orders I get."

  "I want one."

  "Yours is on me. A thank you."

  Not only pretty, but sweet. "Thanks."

  "I'm the one who should thank you for letting me use this awesome kitchen."

  "No worries. You're Ty's sister. That makes you family."

  Family didn't date or lust after each other or imagine if she had a beauty mark like the one to the right of her mouth anywhere else on her body.

  She adjusted the silver tip on the pastry bag. "That's nice of you to say."

  "It's the truth. Your brother is a big reason the Bar V5 has been so successful." Ty's dedication over the years made Nate want to help Rachel. "Do you have a marketing plan yet?"

  She held the icing bag in front of her, tip pointed at him like a weapon. "Why do you want to know?"

  Her suspicious tone matched her stiff posture. Nate had no idea what was wrong, but time for damage control. "I was a venture capitalist before I came home and took over the ranch. I still invest if I see an opportunity."

  She pressed her lips together. "No opportunity here."

  "If you decide you want help—"

  "I'm good. But thanks again for letting me use your kitchen. I'll be sure to clean up my mess before I leave with Ty this afternoon." She angled her shoulders away from Nate. "I'd better get back to work and leave you to yours."

  Rachel didn't want his expertise. Fine. But Nate didn't like being dismissed in his own kitchen when he would rather stay and find out why she acted like he was a villain in a black hat when all he did was offer his help. She was off-limits by virtue of being Ty's sister, but that didn't mean Nate couldn't find out more about her.

  Nah.

  Sticking around and getting to know her any better would be a bad idea. He didn't want to piss off Ty. Might as well get to work. "Have fun baking."

  Though having another taste of her gingerbread couldn't hurt. Not much anyway. Nate wondered if she would be willing to share...

  Find out what happens next in Home for Christmas...

  Buy now!

  Coming Soon from Melissa McClone

  Can’t get enough Melissa McClone romance? Check out what’s coming soon!

  Order now!

  A Thankful Heart

  Releasing November 3rd, 2016

  Order now!

  Christmas at the Castle

  Releasing October 18th, 2016

  About the Author

  Melissa McClone has published over twenty-five novels with Harlequin and been nominated for Romance Writers of America’s RITA award. She lives in the Pacific Northwest with her husband, three school-aged children, two spoiled Norwegian Elkhounds and cats who think they rule the house. For more on Melissa’s books, visit her website: www.melissamcclone.com.

  For the latest news from Tule Publishing, check out our website at TulePublishing.com and sign up for our newsletter here!