But she still couldn’t help it. He was just all man—big and brawny and muscular and masculine—and she thought she would have had to be dead not to recognize that fact.
And she definitely wasn’t dead. In fact, she knew she was awash in extra hormones that made it especially difficult for the woman in her not to be extraordinarily aware of him.
Still, she tried to tamp down on it as she brought two mugs of steaming cider into the living room, where he had, indeed, built a beautiful fire.
“Oh, that feels good,” Nina said as she joined him. “Why don’t we move the coffee table and sit on the floor in front of the couch so we can be closer to the fire?”
Agreeing, Dallas held both cups while she eased herself down, tucking her feet to one side and watching as he sat beside her and tasted his cider.
“Mmm, that’s perfect,” he judged.
Nina took a sip of hers, too, then said, “So, Arthur Swinton...” referring to the man who had become the subject of conversation just before they’d left the marshmallow-toasting station earlier. “I’ve never been too clear about him. Seems like he was a big shot in Thunder Canyon, then a bad guy who went to jail, then I thought I heard he was dead, then he wasn’t, and now people seem to be saying positive things about him again.”
“Yeah, that all sounds about right,” Dallas answered. “You know we just learned that Shane Roarke—who is Arthur Swinton’s biological son—is actually our cousin?”
“I think I did hear something about that,” Nina said vaguely.
“Yeah, Shane was raised by adoptive parents, with a brother and a sister who were also adopted. Then he found out that Arthur Swinton was his biological father and that Grace Traub—one of our Thunder Canyon relations—was his biological mother. Grace died a long time ago, but apparently, when she was in her late teens, she was involved with Swinton and got pregnant, then gave the baby up.”
“There are Traubs in Thunder Canyon, and here—you guys are all over the place.”
“In Texas, too,” he said. “But Thunder Canyon was where Swinton was.”
Somewhat larger than Rust Creek Falls—and only three hundred or so miles south—Thunder Canyon had prospered in recent years, and because there were many connections between the two towns a number of its residents had gone to great lengths to assist their neighbors in Rust Creek Falls since the flood.
“He was on Thunder Canyon’s town council for years and he even ran for mayor a while back. Then somebody figured out that he’d been embezzling funds from Thunder Canyon—”
“Oh, that’s right—that’s why he was in jail,” Nina said.
“Swinton wouldn’t say what happened to the money or where it was hidden—if it was hidden—”
“And it was rumored that he’d died in jail...”
“Uh-huh. Except that he really just escaped. Then he was recaptured—”
“So, not dead,” Nina said, making Dallas laugh.
“No, not dead. And at that point he was pretty widely considered Thunder Canyon’s villain. Then folks found out about him having a son—”
“Shane Roarke.”
“Right. Shane. But Grace never told Swinton she was pregnant. She went out of town to have Shane and put him up for adoption. When Shane found out Swinton was his father he came from California to Thunder Canyon and let Swinton know. When word got around, public opinion softened for Swinton. There’s been some sympathy for him not getting to see his son grow up. Now Shane and his adopted siblings, Ryan and Maggie—who are both attorneys—are working on getting him out of jail.”
“I heard some talk about Arthur Swinton raising money for Rust Creek Falls.”
“Yeah, Shane claims that he’s somehow managed to do that, even from prison. We haven’t seen the money yet, but Shane believes that it’s a legitimate campaign and that something is going to come of it. As a symbol of Swinton’s goodwill.”
“I hope for your cousin’s sake that that’s true. And for Rust Creek Falls’ sake, too—we could certainly use the money to help with the reconstruction.”
“But the school is about finished. I heard today that it’ll be reopening after winter break, which is great. It’s getting to be a pain to take all three kids to three different places for their classes.”
“I’m sure!” Nina commiserated.
For a moment they sat quietly, enjoying the fire and the cider until their cups were empty and set aside on the floor.
Then Dallas said, “Speaking of school, tomorrow night is the Christmas program. It’s always kind of a hoot and makes me feel like Christmas is really here. They’re having to do it in the social hall at the church this year, but the boys and I wondered if you might like to see it? It’ll give you a preview of Christmases to come,” he said with a nod in the direction of her middle.
“I’d love that!” Nina heard herself answer before she’d considered what she was agreeing to, acting solely on impulse. Then she remembered that she’d told herself to start keeping her distance from Dallas and realized this wouldn’t aid that cause.
“But won’t your family be there?” she asked, seizing one of the multiple reasons she’d told herself to keep that distance in the first place.
“Yep,” he confirmed with a note of defiance underlying his tone. “But the boys asked me to invite you, so everyone else will just have to deal with it.”
The boys had asked her. It wasn’t Dallas’s idea.
No sooner had that thought crossed Nina’s mind than Dallas seemed to read it. He turned to face her, peering into her eyes. Using his index and middle fingers he brushed her hair over her shoulder and confided in a quieter voice, “And how could I deny them when it’s what I want, too?”
Looking into that handsome face of his, those gray-blue eyes staring into hers—it was a lethal combination that sank all of Nina’s better judgment.
All of it.
Because when he kissed her, she was right there with him, kissing him back. And unable to think about anything except that kiss and that it was what she’d been wanting since the minute he’d stopped kissing her the night before.
And, oh, what a kiss...
Saturday’s kiss had been good, but this one was even better. Deeper right from the start.
His mouth was pressed more insistently to hers. His lips were parted farther and more sensuously, and she only realized after the fact that hers were, too.
And then there was his tongue...talented, enticing, tempting hers into a coy fencing match, upping the level of intimacy.
And Nina gave as good as she got, still thinking about nothing but that kiss and him, and how much she just wanted to go on and on kissing him.
Which was what she did. What they did. For a long while. Making out there in front of the fire, things heating up between them that the fire had nothing to do with.
His arms had come around her, her hands were in his hair and he was holding her tightly against him. So tightly that her breasts, fuller these days, were smooshed to his unyielding chest, blissfully pressing into him, her nipples turning to insistent little peaks that she wondered if he could feel. That were beginning to cause her to think about more than the mere pressure of even his rock-solid pectorals.
Oh, yeah, kissing this way was only making her want more!
So much more that it gave Nina pause.
She wasn’t even supposed to kiss him again. Let alone for the entire past half hour. And the way they’d been kissing.
Distance, she reminded herself. Separate corners...
Less, not more...
Whether she liked it or not... She drew her hands down, her shoulders back and pushed on Dallas’s shoulders. Pushed him away.
And he got the idea.
Reluctantly tongues retreated, leaving mouths to linger for another moment before they parted, too. B
efore the kissing that Nina wanted never to end, ended anyway.
Dallas took a deep breath and raised his head high enough to tuck hers under his chin, staying that way as he exhaled.
Then he said a musing, “Huh...how’d that happen?” As if he wasn’t quite sure what had just carried them away.
“The cider was not hard or spiked,” Nina joked in a soft voice, her face burrowed into his neck.
“Let’s blame—”
“The spices?” Nina suggested.
“Or just the damn smell of your hair that goes right to my head...”
“The shampoo, then.” Nina went on joking because she knew at that point that she had to lighten the mood. Or give in to it...
And she couldn’t give in to it.
“Yeah, the shampoo,” he agreed reluctantly, taking another deep breath and sitting back as he took her by the shoulders and repositioned her several inches away from him.
Then he said, “I believe we were talking about an innocent elementary school Christmas program...”
“We were,” she confirmed, knowing without a doubt now that she shouldn’t go.
“The program starts at seven, the boys have to be there at six, so what if I take them to the church, get them situated, then sneak over here and pick you up?”
Say no...
But out loud she said, “I’ll be ready.”
Dallas smiled as if he’d known she’d been thinking about turning him down after all and he was relieved that she hadn’t.
Then he got to his feet, held out both hands to help her to her feet, as well, and they went to her door. He took his coat from where he’d hung it on the doorknob and put it on.
He looked at her the entire time, studying her, and then he shook his head and said more to himself than to her, “Nina Crawford...”
And this time she knew what he was thinking—that of all the people for whatever was happening to be happening, it was happening between a Crawford and a Traub.
Then he breathed deeply, sighed it out as if in some kind of concession and leaned forward to kiss her again—a long, sweet, sexy kiss that could well have started everything all over again had he not pulled away quickly.
Another deep breath, a sigh, a last lingering look into her eyes, and he opened the door and left.
And Nina wilted against it once it was shut.
Knowing that distance and separate corners were not at all what she wanted, in spite of what she’d sworn to herself earlier.
What she really wanted was Dallas.
Any way.
Any time.
Anywhere.
Chapter Eight
The school Christmas program on Monday evening was funny and endearing and full of foibles. There were heartfelt, off-key Christmas songs—one per grade that advanced from the timid singing of the kindergarteners—who forgot some of the words—to the far more polished sixth graders. There were skits. There was a sixth-grade girl band with an overly loud drummer doing a rendition of “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree.” And the diamond in the crown was the production of “’Twas the Night Before Christmas.”
The students enacted the poem while one of the older girls read it. A kindergartner in a mouse costume pretended to sleep, but couldn’t keep her eyes closed.
A fourth grader played Santa in a costume stuffed with a pillow that was sticking out from under his cottonball-edged red jacket. He was also wearing a beard that was askew in one direction while his hat was off-kilter in the other, and his boots were black galoshes.
The sleigh was a red wagon with cardboard sides resembling Dallas’s bobsleigh—not surprisingly, since Ryder had worked on the scenery and staging. But one of the sides fell off midplay.
The reindeer wore brown construction-paper antlers, with Jake in the lead wearing a red clown nose.
Some license was taken. The father was at the cardboard cutout window, but so was Mama in her kerchief as well as the two children who rose from their visions of sugarplums to witness Santa’s ride.
Robbie was the youngest child of the pajama-clad family, although rather than watching Santa, Robbie scanned the audience for his father and waved when he spotted Dallas and Nina.
In the process of that, Robbie didn’t see it coming when the nightgown-clad mother of the group tripped on her hem and fell into him, causing them to tumble and barely avoid falling off the stage.
Robbie’s loud “Jeez, Janey,” was answered by Janey’s “It’s this dumb nightgown,” interrupting the performance and making the audience laugh.
By the time Mama in her kerchief got back to her feet and Robbie did, too, the narrator had lost her place and reread a few lines before getting to the only other dialogue in the play—Santa calling “Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!”
Clapping and cheers and whistles rewarded the performance along with a standing ovation as everyone who had participated in the rest of the program, too, returned to the stage to take their final bows.
Robbie was at the very front, and he dramatically hid one arm behind his back, crossed the other over his stomach and took a very deep bow as if the accolades were all for him.
Then the announcement came that refreshments were being set out at the back of the social hall, the kids got down from the stage to find their families and the mingling began—the portion of the evening that Nina had been dreading.
Dallas’s parents had arrived before Dallas and Nina, and Dallas had urged Nina into the two free seats directly in front of them. Restrained hellos had been exchanged with Nina from there, just moments before the lights were dimmed so no more had had to be said.
But now Nina knew there was bound to be more of an encounter and she wasn’t sure what would happen. Although she had been with Dallas and the boys at the bonfire, and the Traubs had been sort of civil, it hadn’t seemed quite as couple-ish as sitting beside him through the program, and she wasn’t sure how that would be viewed.
Especially when she had no doubt that every time Dallas had leaned over to whisper some comment into her ear, every time they’d cast each other a smile, the older Traubs had been watching.
She was right that there was no avoiding Dallas’s parents. By the time all three boys found them, the four adults had met at the end of the row of seats to stand together.
At first the focus of the adults was on the boys, complimenting them for their parts in the various portions of the program. But then the boys wanted refreshments and their grandfather volunteered to take them, leaving Nina and Dallas alone with Ellie Traub.
Who was staring pointedly at her son.
But just when Nina was afraid the other woman was going to say something negative, she instead said to Dallas, “It’s nice to see you like this.”
“Mom. I saw you three times today at home and we’re together at all these school things—are you losing it or what?” Dallas said, clearly perplexed by the comment that made it sound as if this encounter was out of the ordinary.
“It’s nice to see you not down in the dumps,” his mother amended, glancing at Nina.
Nina barely knew the woman. When any Traub did come into the store they were always curt and civil, and they got out again as quickly as they could.
But tonight something was different. And Nina thought what she was seeing in Ellie Traub’s expression was acceptance. Reluctant acceptance, but acceptance just the same.
Then, in a more friendly, conversational tone, Ellie Traub said, “How do you spend the holidays, Nina? With your family, I expect.”
“Usually. At my parents’ house,” Nina answered. “Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. But between yesterday and today, everyone except my mom and me came down with the flu, so my mom is playing nurse. She called just before I left tonight to tell me I’ve been banned from getting
anywhere near them.”
“So, no Christmas?” Dallas asked, alarmed.
Nina shrugged. “Mom said we’ll just have a belated one when this passes—we’ll exchange our gifts, have the same foods we planned, do it all the way we always do, but in a week or so.”
“We have a big dinner Christmas Eve—friends and family—why don’t you come?” Ellie Traub invited her instantly.
Nina wasn’t the only one shocked by that. She saw Dallas’s eyebrows arch, and for a moment he looked as if he wasn’t sure he’d heard correctly.
But his mother ignored both of their reactions and went on as if she hadn’t just extended a major olive branch to the enemy. “We have tons of food—I always cook for an army, don’t I, Dallas? And this year we’re doing even more, making it even bigger. I saw the way the boys were with you—I’m sure they’d like it if you’d come.” She cast a glance at her son, making Nina think that Ellie Traub was including Dallas as one of the boys.
“We’d all like it if you’d come,” the older woman added.
It was on the tip of Nina’s tongue to say: you would? And she couldn’t quite think of anything else to say.
Then Dallas chimed in. “Come. We can’t have you spending it alone.”
“Oh, it’s all right. No big deal. I’ll be fine...”
“I insist, Nina! It’s against our house policy to let anyone be alone at Christmas,” Ellie Traub informed her. “Dallas will pick you up at six. Won’t you, Dallas?”
The older woman looked at her son and smiled a loving, knowing smile.
“I will,” he confirmed.
Then Bob Traub brought the boys back, delivering cookies to his wife and son while Robbie handed a frosting-decorated wreath to Nina.
“I called it first so I got to bring yours,” he announced, as if it were a coup.
Nina thanked him, and after they’d all eaten their cookies Ellie Traub suggested that she and Bob take the boys home and get them to bed while Dallas took Nina. That seemed like the second seal of approval for them to be together.
Which they weren’t, Nina reminded herself. They weren’t together. But if his mother was conceding that they might be friends, that was okay. So that was how she chose to view it.
THE MAVERICK'S CHRISTMAS BABY Page 12