His Christmas Sweetheart

Mayor Dempsey hailed her over to the bar. Opening two longnecks, she tipped her head at Will. “You going to put him out of his misery anytime soon or just keep torturing him?”

“What are you talking about?”

She lowered her voice. “He’s not the kind you toy with, Miranda. That heart of his has been through the wringer. Anyone can see it.”

“I don’t toy.”

“You don’t exactly handle with care, either.”

She delivered the longnecks to a far table where a pair of truckers sat. They would be gone in the morning, having off-loaded their cargo of kitchen cabinets to the Abrams, one of many local families in the process of rebuilding their homes.

“Thank you,” she said cheerily when they dropped a tip of several singles on her tray.

They definitely took note of her swaying hips. And as a glance across the room confirmed, Will took note of them.

Okay, maybe she did toy with him a little.

She couldn’t help herself. He liked her, it was obvious. Desired her, even. Yet there he sat, watching, but not running after her as other men had. Not even walking. She was determined to get him up and moving in her direction.

Fancy that. Miranda Staley doing the chasing for once, rather than the other way around.

“Hey, Miranda, bring us another round, would ya, darling?”

“Right away, Henry.”

The cattle rancher’s table wasn’t far from Will. She made a point of passing right by him when she delivered the drinks to Henry and his cronies.

Will’s gaze stuck to her like superglue. Miranda felt her cheeks redden. Seriously! When did a man ever make her blush?

Apparently now.

The mayor’s words came rushing back to her: that heart of his has been through the wringer.

Sweet, darling man. To have lost his parents. How old had he been? she wondered. Not that it made a difference. Losing them at any age would be tragic.

Miranda had no idea if her own birth parents were alive or not. She tried to care. Tried to muster an ounce of compassion and affection for them. A shred of curiosity as to their whereabouts. But any feelings she might have had for them were lost when they’d abandoned her for three whole days in an old car because they were too high to remember they even had a daughter.

Losing her foster parents, however, was an entirely different matter. Miranda ached at the mere thought. Nothing would leave a larger, emptier hole in her life.

Would she withdraw the way Will had? Avoid relationships? For a while, certainly. For years? It was hard to say. Miranda was resilient. More than that, her foster parents wouldn’t want her to close herself off. They were gregarious, affectionate people who had taught their children to live life to the fullest.

“Order up,” the cook called.

Saying hi to her newly arrived coworker, Cissy, Miranda collected Will’s Swiss-and-bacon burger from the window.

“Here you go.” She scooted close to Will, setting the generously laden plate down in front of him. “Enjoy.”

He gazed hungrily...at her. Not at the plate of food. Miranda flushed again.

This was just plain silly, she silently chided herself as she went about clearing a recently vacated table. When Cissy emerged from the back, tying her apron, Miranda tried to distract herself by making small talk. It worked only until she caught Cissy giving Will a decidedly predatory once-over.

“I’ve been trying to get his attention for ages,” she confessed out of the side of her mouth when they met up at the bar to collect fresh drink orders.

“Any luck?” Miranda wasn’t normally the jealous type. She could, she realized, become that way. Cissy was certainly attractive, in a flashy sort of way. Maybe Will preferred that over Miranda’s country-girl looks.

“Don’t I wish,” Cissy sighed.

Miranda busied herself refilling salt and pepper shakers before the dinner crowd arrived in full force.

“He’s sure noticing you,” Cissy said.

Miranda glanced quickly at Will and pretended nonchalance. “Oh?”

“As if you didn’t know.”

“We’re friends. He comes by my elder-care home. To visit one of my residents,” she clarified.

“Uh-huh.” Cissy’s reply oozed sarcasm.

“No, really.” If Will had been wanting to visit Miranda all along, he wouldn’t have recently stopped.

“Well, I’m giving you fair warning. If he decides to be my friend, I’m totally taking him up on it.”

Hmm. Like hell.

The saloon was filling up by the minute and she was running around like crazy. Even so, Will was never out of her visual range for long. More than once their glances connected.

She tried reading what lay behind his expression without success, which only served to increase her interest. When he pushed to his feet and reached for his hat on the bar, she was right there beside him.

“You leaving?”

“I have to get back before dark.”

“It’s only five.”

“I’m riding.”

“You are?”

She’d missed seeing him arrive by horseback. She wouldn’t miss seeing him leave. Will astride a horse was a worthy sight.

“Later.” He touched the brim of his hat.

“Does that mean you’re stopping by the house soon?”

“I’ll try.” At least his tone was more positive than the last time.

Donning his jacket, Will left, zigzagging between the tables, his long strides taking him to the door in a matter of seconds.

Without thinking, Miranda set down her tray on the end of the bar and announced to Cissy, “I’m on break. Be back in ten,” then hurried after Will.

“Hey!” the other server called out.

She kept going, ignoring the twinge of guilt pricking at her. She’d make it up to Cissy later.

Will beat her through the door and was halfway around the side of the building by the time she burst outside.

Holy, schmoley, it was cold! She should have remembered her coat. Well, there was no going back now.

Hugging herself, she ducked around the building and came upon Will checking the cinch on his saddle before mounting. The horse bobbed its head in eager anticipation.

Miranda wasted no time. “Will!”

He turned, surprise registering on his face. “I left the money for my tab on the bar.”

“It’s not that.”

“What then?”

She started to shiver, from nerves as much as the cold. Clearly she should have thought this plan through a little more, come up with an excuse for waylaying him. And remembered her coat.

Her shivering increased until she was shaking. “P-p-please come visit Mrs. L-L-Litey.”

“You’re freezing.” He took a step toward her.

“For h-her sake. N-n-not mine.”

“Dammit, Miranda.”

The distance separating them disappeared. In the next instant he was wrapping her in his arms and drawing her against his chest. It felt nice. He rubbed her arms, creating a soothing friction. She burrowed deeper, and a sound of contentment slipped out before she could stop herself. His arms tightened their hold.

She waited. Surely he would kiss her. When he didn’t, Miranda raised her face to his.

Nothing.

She parted her lips and linked an arm around his neck, inching even closer. Still nothing.

Really? Okay, the guy might be shy, but he wasn’t dense. He could be wearing a gunnysack over his head and not realize she wanted him to kiss her.

More drastic measures were clearly called for.

“Will?” She rose on tiptoe, their mouths close enough she could feel his warm breath on her skin.

“Yeah?”

“I’m not cold anymore.”

“That’s good.”

The horse nickered impatiently, but Miranda paid no heed. Her other arm joined her first as she anchored herself more securely to Will. “In fact, I’m quite comfortable.”

He immediately stiffened and started to pull away.

As if she would let that happen. “Dammit, Will. Enough with the game playing. Kiss me already.”

“You don’t understand.”

“You’re right. I don’t. But that’s no reason to stop.” Releasing an exasperated breath, she angled her head and planted her lips firmly on his.

The earth didn’t move, bells didn’t ring and fireworks didn’t explode. Miranda might as well have been kissing the back of her own hand.

Wasn’t that a disappointment.

Honestly, how could she have been so mistaken? The kind of heat she’d seen lighting his eyes usually hid a blazing fire.

No sense making a fool of herself any longer. She started to peel herself off him—only something held her in place and refused to let her go.

That something was Will’s arm, locking itself firmly across the small of her back.

“What are—” She didn’t have the chance to finish whatever random thought had popped into her head.

Will’s mouth came down on hers, hot, hungry and all business. She let him take control, not that she had much of a choice, and found she didn’t mind in the least. He knew what he was doing.

Sweet angels in heaven, what had possessed her to think the man couldn’t kiss?

The earth moved, bells rang and fireworks exploded all at once, leaving Miranda light-headed. The sensation intensified when Will pushed her up against the hitching post. The hard surface kneading her back was ignored as the entire length of his body met and covered the entire length of hers.

When his hand came up to cup the side of her face, she increased her hold on him, fusing their mouths even more firmly together. The resulting sizzle and sparks were off the charts. Miranda couldn’t recall ever being kissed with such fervor. She rather liked it and wanted him to go on and on.

Only he didn’t. To her disappointment, Will released her. Frigid air instantly invaded her every pore, the chill even more noticeable after having been encased in the warm cocoon of his arms.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

“Why?” She grinned. “I liked it, in case you didn’t notice.”

He stared at her, his gaze devouring.

Miranda melted beneath it. Reaching for his cheek, she let her fingers trace the line of his bristled jaw. “We can go for round two, if you have a mind to.”

Something in his expression changed. Before she could ask what was wrong, he pivoted and stepped into the stirrup. Swinging his leg over the saddle, he pointed the horse in the direction of the street and nudged it into a brisk trot.

“Goodbye,” she called after him, but he didn’t acknowledge her. Dammit, had she scared him away? It wouldn’t surprise her.

Miranda followed him as far as the street, watching him ride away as dusk quietly fell. She didn’t move for several minutes, despite the freezing temperature.

That, she realized, was how it felt to be thoroughly kissed. And by Will Dessaro, of all people. Who’d have guessed?

* * *

WILL MANAGED TO stall his panic attack until he reached the outskirts of town. Then all his coping techniques proved worthless. It was his worst attack in years. Since the “Dear John” email he’d received from his ex-fiancée while stationed at Fort Huachuca in Arizona.

Giving Rocket Dog her head, he let the mare carry him home. She didn’t seem bothered by his shaking, cold sweats and hyperventilating. When he could take no more, he bent forward over the saddle horn and waited for his heart to stop drilling a tunnel through his rib cage.

He’d kissed Miranda. Kissed her like a crazed man. He would have done it again if not for getting the hell out of there when he did.

What would she think if she saw him now, on the verge of passing out? Worse, what if the panic attack had struck while their lips were locked?

She wouldn’t have wanted a round two. She wouldn’t want him anywhere near her house, either, Mrs. Litey or no Mrs. Litey.

Eventually the attack receded. Though he didn’t feel like his old self, he regained enough control to maintain a semblance of normalcy. Taking stock of his surroundings, he fumbled for the reins.

Rocket Dog was dutifully retracing her steps along the route they’d taken into town through the mountains. Will changed direction, opting for a quicker route that would have them home in a third of the time. He needed coffee. Better yet, a shot of whiskey. Anything, as long as it hit his stomach with the fiery jolt he craved.

He’d kissed Miranda. His muddled brain had yet to fully process the shocking revelation. His body, however, recalled every moment in precise detail. The taste of her lips. The extraordinary sensation of her generous breasts pressed against his chest. Her tiny moan of pleasure when he’d backed her into the hitching post. Each memory reminded him of how many years it had been since he’d held a woman.

She was everything he’d imagined. More than he’d hoped for. When she had first touched her lips to his, he’d been convinced he could hold out by not moving a muscle. Then his resolve had snapped and he’d practically manhandled her.

Except she’d said she liked kissing him. Had clung to him as if she couldn’t get enough. It may have been a long time for Will, but he could tell when a response was genuine.

No more and never again, he told himself. This was his one and only slip. He wouldn’t screw up his life, not after all the progress he’d made. Even for Miranda.

Rocket Dog’s rhythmic clip-clopping on the hard-packed dirt road worked like a mantra and further calmed Will. By the time they passed through the Gold Nugget’s main gate, it was well after dark and he felt good enough to fool anyone he came in contact with. Except for Sam.

As luck would have it, his boss was waiting for him at the horse corrals, standing in a pool of light cast by the flood lamp mounted overhead.

“There was no envelope,” Will announced, and dismounted. Snowflakes were just starting to fall, melting the instant they landed.

“No? I swear Mayor Dempsey told me she had one.” The smirk Sam wore erased any doubts Will might have been entertaining about a ruse. “Run into anyone interesting?”

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