A Cadence Creek Christmas (Cadence Creek Cowboys)

by Alward, Donna

  Dessert was served—pastry baskets filled with chocolate mousse and topped with berries and whipped cream. They were almost too pretty to eat, and Rhys noticed that Taylor had slowed down on the wine and accepted a cup of coffee instead.

  He frowned. He shouldn’t care. Shouldn’t bother him that she was wound tighter than a spring or that she was so deliberate in each choice and move. Except he knew now. He knew that there was a vulnerable side. He’d seen it last night when he’d mentioned how her family had ignored her. Whether she acknowledged it or not, she was desperate for her family’s approval.

  And he knew there was an unpredictable side to her, too, that rarely had a chance to get out to play. Because he was pretty sure that the heavy kissing they’d been doing in the cab of his truck last night had not been planned out and put on a list of pros and cons. It had been spontaneous. And combustible.

  When the meal ended, the wedding cake was rolled in. “Oh, it’s stunning,” Taylor gasped, leaning forward to see better.

  “You didn’t know? A detail escaped your notice?”

  She laughed. “No one was allowed to see it. Avery’s friend Denise did it as a wedding gift. Avery insisted I trust her on this and so I did.”

  “It bothered you, though, right?”

  She tore her gaze away from the cake and slid it up to meet his. “A little,” she admitted. “This whole experience has been weird. I’ve had to give up way more control than I normally do. Usually no detail ever escapes my approval.”

  “Sometimes it’s good to let someone else take the reins.”

  She chuckled. “Not my style, Bullock.”

  The cake really was pretty, even Rhys could see that. It looked like three presents stacked on top of each other, each layer turned on a slight angle and alternating red and white. The topper looked like a giant red bow. “What’s the bow made out of?” he asked Taylor.

  “Fondant,” she said, smiling. “Okay, so the only thing to worry about now is the music, and the DJ should be fine, so maybe you’re right. Maybe I can relax.” She sighed. “And finally get some sleep.”

  He wondered if her lack of sleep was to do with the wedding or if she’d been like him last night, staring at the ceiling wondering what it would have been like to finish what they’d started.

  It had been a long time since he’d come that close. He certainly hadn’t wanted to sow any wild oats here in Cadence Creek. The town was too small. Things got around. And before he knew it he’d be tied down, worrying about what he had to offer a wife, wondering how long it would be before he disappointed her.

  No danger of that with Taylor, was there? She wasn’t staying long enough for that.

  Cheers went up as Avery and Callum sliced into the cake. Nell, clearly exhausted, was curled up in Mrs. Shepard’s arms, sound asleep. The wait staff cleaned away the remaining dishes and business at the bar picked up. The show was over. Now it was time for fun.

  He looked over at Taylor, who was more relaxed but looking increasingly exhausted. He was starting to wonder if she knew what fun was—or if it was all work and no play with her.

  * * *

  She wasn’t sure how much more she could take.

  Rhys was beside her every moment. He smelled so good. Like those peel-away cologne ads in magazines only better, because the scent came alive from the contact with his warm skin. He knew how to push her buttons and she’d started to realize he did it intentionally, trying to get a rise out of her. It was sexy as all get-out, like a strange mating dance that sent her heart racing and blood to her cheeks.

  Which was all well and good except she kept feeling her control slipping and the balance of power was not in her favor. She found herself admitting things that she’d normally never dare breathe. Like that wedding story. She never shared that. It was too humiliating! At least she’d stopped before she’d said anything about how that day had ended—with John walking out. Professional and personal failure in one twelve-hour period. Talk about overachieving...

  She didn’t quite know where she stood with Rhys. It was partly exhilarating and mostly maddening and now, at the end of a very long day, she was feeling a bit off her game.

  She decided to take a few minutes to chill out. She’d done her job. Everyone was doing theirs. It would be okay to relax for a bit. Especially when she could watch her brother and brand-new sister-in-law take to the dance floor for their first waltz.

  Rhys disappeared momentarily to the bar and she let out a breath. Avery and Callum swept across the parquet as everyone watched, but her gaze slipped away from the floor and to Rhys, who stood chatting to the bartender while he waited for his drink. She swallowed. His tux fit him to perfection, the trousers showcasing long, lean legs that led to a gorgeously tight bottom. He’d taken off the jacket, and the tailored vest over the white starched shirt accentuated the breadth of his shoulders. He wasn’t classically handsome, but his physique was as close to perfect as she could imagine.

  When he turned back from the bar he caught her staring. She gasped a little as heat snapped between them, even from across the room. Maybe his face would never be in a magazine, but there was an intensity to it, a magnetism, that she couldn’t deny.

  He was holding two glasses in his hands.

  When he got back to the table, he held one out to her. “Here,” he said, taking his seat. “You look like you could use this.”

  “Champagne?”

  He grinned, and it lit her up from the inside. “They managed to have a couple of bottles back there.”

  “You’re more of a beer guy.”

  “It depends on the occasion. And you—” his gaze traveled over her for about the tenth time today “—look like a girl who needs champagne in her hand.”

  She took the glass.

  “To a job well done.”

  She raised her glass to touch his but he wasn’t done.

  “And some well-deserved R&R.”

  That’s right. After tonight she was on vacation for a whole week. She wasn’t sure if it was a blessing or if it was going to drive her stir-crazy. She wasn’t used to being idle.

  She sipped at the champagne, the bubbles exploding on her tongue. A waitress stopped at the table, offering small pieces of cake. What the heck. Taylor took one, and so did Rhys. She took a bite. Not straight up chocolate... She closed her eyes. It was lavender. “Holy cannoli,” she whispered, taking another sip of champagne, which only intensified the flavors on her tongue. “That is some serious cake.”

  “You,” he said in a low voice, “are killing me here.”

  She held his gaze. Put a bit of cake on her fork and held it out while the events of the previous night leaped to the front of her mind. “What’s good for the goose,” she said lightly, offering the cake. “I promise you, this cake is a life-altering experience.”

  He took it from the fork. “I don’t think it’s the cake,” he answered, reaching out and circling her wrist with his fingers. “Taylor, what are we doing?”

  Clapping erupted as Avery and Callum finished their dance. “Now could we have the wedding party on the floor, please?” the DJ called.

  Their gazes clung for a brief second as the words sunk in. For all her “you don’t have to act like we’re a couple” bit, the truth was they had been seated together for the reception and they were expected to dance together. The other bridesmaids and groomsmen seated along the head table were getting up from their chairs. Rhys held out his hand. “That’s our cue.”

  She put down her fork. For heaven’s sake, it was one dance at a wedding. Nothing to get in such a lather over. She’d put her hand in his, the other on his shoulder, and stare at the buttons on his shirt. It would be fine.

  Except the moment they hit the parquet, he pulled her close in his arms and the scent that had teased her earlier enveloped her in a cloud of masc
ulinity. Even in her heels—and she wasn’t a short girl—he had a few inches on her. His palm was wide and warm and her plan to simply put her other hand on his lapel was a total fail because she remembered he’d removed his jacket and the flat of her hand was pressed simply to his white shirt. And the hard, warm wall of muscle beneath it.

  “For goodness’ sake, smile,” he commanded as their feet started moving to the music.

  She looked up into his eyes. He was smiling down at her but rather than feeling reassured she got the feeling that she was looking into the face of the Big Bad Wolf.

  CHAPTER SIX

  WHOEVER DECIDED THAT slow, angsty songs were appropriate for weddings needed to be shot.

  Taylor made her feet move, determined to keep her distance from Rhys as best she could, which was a rather daunting task considering they were slow dancing. It might have been easier if the song choice had been a wedding standard, something she was used to hearing time and again over the years and could dismiss as cliché and trite. But this was something new and romantic, and an acoustic version to boot that only added to the intimacy. Rhys’s hand rode the small of her back, fitting perfectly in the hollow just below the end of her zip. The warmth of his touch seeped through the lace and satin to her skin.

  During the planning, a wedding party dance had sounded nice. Since Avery didn’t have any family, the traditional Groom/Mom of the Bride, Bride/Father of the Groom dances couldn’t happen for the second dance of the night. This was Avery’s idea of including everyone. Little had Taylor known that something so innocuous sounding would create such havoc.

  “This isn’t so bad, is it?”

  His breath tickled the hair just above her ear and goose bumps popped up over her skin. How could she say how she really felt about it? That it was pure torture being in his arms this way, determined not to touch, wanting to desperately, knowing she couldn’t with such an audience watching their every move?

  “Not so bad I guess,” she answered.

  More shuffling steps. Was she imagining it or did his hand tighten against her back, pulling her closer? She swallowed heavily, the nerves in her stomach swirling with both anxiety and anticipation. Oh, God, now his jaw was resting lightly against her temple and his steps were getting smaller.

  Her fingers slid over his shoulders as she imagined the smooth, muscled skin beneath the pure white fabric. Each breath caught for just a moment in her chest, making it hard to breathe as the song went on interminably. His fingers kneaded gently at the precise spot of the dimple at the top of her...

  They had to stop this. And yet she lacked any will to back away, to put space between them. What she really wanted was to tilt her head so that his jaw wasn’t riding her temple but closer to her mouth.

  Holy Hannah.

  “What are you doing to me, Taylor?”

  If he kept talking in that husky voice she was going to have a meltdown right here on the dance floor.

  “Nothing,” she replied. “I’m not doing anything.”

  But she was and she knew it. And he wasn’t exactly backing off, either.

  “You...” Fear crowded her breath. She was getting in way too deep. “You don’t even like me. You criticize everything.”

  “You’re not the only one who enjoys a challenge,” he replied, his thumb making circles against her tailbone. “You know as well as I do all that baiting was just foreplay.”

  Melt. Down.

  “You’re forgetting,” he said softly, “who was with you in that truck last night.”

  She finally braved a look at him. His dark eyes glittered at her and she knew in a heartbeat where this would lead if she let it. The big question was did she want to?

  Her body said yes. Her brain was another matter entirely. And while it was a close-fought battle, her brain was still in charge. By a very narrow margin.

  “Not going to happen,” she said, sounding far more certain than she felt.

  “You sure? No gravel pit required. I have my own house, with a nice big bed in it.”

  Oh. Oh.

  While that was a temptingly delicious thought, Taylor knew one of them had to be sensible. “I haven’t had that much champagne, Rhys. If you’re looking to hook up with someone, maybe you can find someone local. I’m sure there are some pretty girls in town who’d be interested.”

  He lifted his chin and his hot gaze slid away. “I don’t date town girls.”

  “Ever?”

  “Ever,” he confirmed tightly.

  Well. There was a story there, she was sure. But she wasn’t about to ask. The farther away from Rhys she could manage the better. She did not want to get involved. A couple of stolen kisses were one thing. Start to probe into his personal life and it was going to get intimate.

  “So I’m what? Not hanging around after Christmas, which makes me convenient?”

  He let out a short laugh, dropped his gaze to her lips and pulled her close. Her breath came out in a rush as she found herself pressed against his hard length. “Trust me. You are anything but convenient.”

  The contact rippled through them both until suddenly he released his hold and stepped back. The song ended and a new one began. Other guests crowded the floor as a popular, upbeat song thumped through the speakers.

  Taylor stepped back. “Thank you for the dance.”

  Before he could say anything else, she turned her back on him and went to their table, ready to pick up her purse and go. Except she hadn’t brought a vehicle, had she? She’d gone to the church in the limo and to here with Rhys and now she’d have to beg a ride back to the B&B. Which she’d planned to do with Jack, but she caught sight of him dancing with Amy Wilson, having a good time.

  She grabbed her champagne glass and drained what was in it.

  Callum and Avery stopped for a moment, happy and glowing. “Taylor, we can’t thank you enough,” Avery said. “Today was just perfect.”

  She was relieved to have something to think about other than Rhys. “It was my pleasure. And I did have some help you know. Your florist is a gem and your cake was out of this world. Not to mention Clara saving the day with the church candles.” She looked up at Callum. “You’ve landed in a very nice place, brother.”

  He winked at her. “I know it. Sure you don’t want to hang around a little longer?”

  She shook her head. “A nice diversion but not my style. The week of relaxation that I’ll get housesitting for you is enough small-town for me, thanks.”

  “You sure? Seems to me you’ve made a friend.” He raised his eyebrows.

  “I’m a big girl. And that’s going nowhere, so don’t you worry your head about it.”

  “That’s not what Jack says. He said you were necking with Rhys in his truck last night.”

  This was what she didn’t miss about having brothers underfoot. They always thought it was okay to stick their noses in her business under the guise of “looking out for their sister.” All of it was a pain in the butt.

  “Callum,” Avery chided softly, elbowing her husband in the ribs.

  “Well, they weren’t exactly discreet on the dance floor, either.”

  Taylor’s cheeks burned. “Rhys Bullock is a bossy so-and-so who likes to push my buttons. I’m no more interested in him than...than...”

  A hand appeared beside her, reaching for the other champagne glass. She turned on him. “Could you please stop showing up everywhere I am?”

  He lifted his glass in a mock toast, totally unperturbed. “I’ll disappear somewhere more convenient,” he said.

  He did, too. Right back to the dance floor. The DJ had put on a faster number and Rhys snagged Amy from Jack and swung her into a two-step. He turned her under his arm and she came back laughing.

  “You’re jealous,” Callum noted.

  “I most certain
ly am not.”

  “You’re no better at lying now than you were when we were kids. Dad always said the poker face gene passed you by.” Callum grinned, but he couldn’t possibly know how much the words stung. Another criticism. She never measured up. She was always one step behind her brothers as far as her dad was concerned. One of these days she was going to show her father her accounts and watch his eyebrows go up. Those “frivolous” parties she planned brought in a boatload of cash.

  Funny how the idea of that future moment had always seemed so sweet in her mind, but lately it had lost a little of its lustre. It was only a bank statement after all. There had to be more, right? Something more satisfying than the account balance?

  “Don’t you have cows to milk or something?”

  He laughed. “I hired someone to do that today.” His eyes twinkled at her. “And you won’t have to worry about any farm work, either, while you’re at the house. It’s all taken care of.”

  “Good. Because you used to enjoy mucking around in the barns but I’d rather keep my boots nice and clean.”

  He laughed, then leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “We’ll be gone tomorrow before you get to the house. I’ll leave the key under the Santa by the door. Make yourself at home and we’ll see you on the twenty-third.”

  She relaxed and kissed him back. “Love you, Callum.”

  “I love you, too, brat.”

  They moved off to visit with other guests. Taylor took a turn on the floor with Ty, and Sam, and even once with her father. True to form, he complimented the wedding but in such a way that it made her feel inconsequential.

  “You planned a nice little party,” he said, smiling at her.

  Her throat tightened. Eighty guests, wedding party, church, venue, catering, flowers and all the other tiny details it took to put a wedding together in a ridiculously short amount of time. And it was “little”?