Her Rancher Rescuer. Donna AlwardЧитать онлайн книгу.
grinned at her crookedly. “You should come down to the ranch for a week. I’ll take you zip-lining.”
Harry chuckled. “Maybe we will. I’d like to see your mother on one of those contraptions. Good night, son. And you, too, Amy. It was nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, too,” she said, and meant it.
They hadn’t spent an hour sipping bubbly in Jack’s room, but in some ways this had been better. She’d felt welcomed and relaxed. It was, to her surprise, the perfect ending to the day.
They said their good-nights and Jack turned to her. “I suppose this is where I say I should walk you home,” he said.
“I suppose it is.” She stood and put her glass down onto a coffee table. “I’ll get my coat.”
“Not so fast,” he murmured, catching her hand when she would have turned away. He pulled her back so that she was in front of him. He put his hand at her waist, his fingers sliding along the soft material of the curve-hugging dress. “I was on my best behavior,” he murmured, his voice low and intimate. “I kept my promise, too. The least you can do is give me a kiss good-night.”
“I suppose it is only fair.” She smiled up at him. If nothing else, in the past few hours Jack had given her something that she hadn’t had in a very long time: acceptance. She hadn’t felt the need to be anyone other than who she was. Hadn’t felt pressed to meet any sort of expectation. Perhaps that was because the Shepards hadn’t been in Cadence Creek very long. Or perhaps it was because they were a genuinely nice, normal family.
And after tonight it was unlikely she’d ever even see Jack again. The least she could do was take a kiss to remember him by.
She tilted her face up and kissed him, and with far less reserve than she’d shown on the dance floor. His arms came around her and pulled her close; she twined hers around his neck and slid her fingers through his hair. They were as close as two people could be with their clothes on, pressed together at several contact points. Jack’s hands roved over her back and came to tangle in her long curls as he tilted her head back and took command of her mouth. He tasted like man and the rich, erotic tang of champagne.
If he asked, she realized, she might reconsider her earlier bargain.
“Do you know how beautiful you are?” he asked roughly. “If I didn’t have to leave tomorrow night, I think I’d actually consider seeing where this leads.”
“But you are leaving tomorrow night.”
“Yes.” He nibbled at her earlobe and her eyes rolled back in her head with pleasure.
“And you’re not coming back.”
“Well,” he said, and he kissed her neck just below her ear, “I’m back on Christmas Eve and gone again Boxing Day.”
“And spending it with your family.”
“Yeah.”
They kissed a little longer until they were both out of breath.
“Jack, you should take me home. This would be a foolish mistake.”
She stepped backward, her chest rising and falling with exertion, her body humming with arousal. Of all the times to be sensible...and yet she was somehow happy about her choice. She was nearly twenty-five. It was time she took control of her life rather than simply letting it happen to her, time she decided what it was she wanted and found a way to get it. She could start by not letting herself get swept away in a moment that would only be a dead end.
She’d figure the rest out in time. Changing your life was a big job for one night.
“You’re right. I’ll get our coats.” He stepped back and ran a hand through his hair. “But dammit, Amy, you are not an easy woman to walk away from.”
As he disappeared around the corner toward the foyer, Amy bit down on her lip and blinked a few times. Jack couldn’t possibly know that that was the sweetest thing he could have said to her tonight.
* * *
AMY COULDN’T STAND being in the house another moment.
It was Christmas Eve. It should have been a time for happiness and joy and presents and carols and hot chocolate spiked with peppermint schnapps. Instead there wasn’t even a tree up at her house. A little-known secret—if Cadence Creek had any secrets—was that Christmas simply didn’t happen at the Wilson house in any way, shape or form. Not since she was ten years old and her dad had walked out on her and her mother on December twenty-third. Neither of them had seen him since.
It made Amy bitter. Naturally it had ruined that Christmas, but she didn’t see why it had to ruin every holiday since. But her mother was adamant. No tree. No turkey dinner, no Miracle on 34th Street.
As much as she understood, Amy refused to be Scrooged out of the holiday altogether. Tonight she would sing carols and look at the tree decorated at the front of the sanctuary and soak it all in for a blessed hour. She looked forward to this every year.
“Mom, why don’t you come with me? The service is so great.”
“Not this year, Amy.” Mary Wilson’s voice was tired. She looked up from her chair, where she was watching television. “You go and have fun.”
Amy went back into the living room and perched on the arm of the sofa. Since the wedding she’d been doing a lot of thinking. Thinking about what she wanted and the person she wanted to be. Something had changed in the moment she’d stepped out of the bathroom with Jack. Something good. Something...strong.
She’d been going to wait to broach the subject but the time felt right. “Mom, what would you say if I told you I wanted to go to school?”
Mary’s head turned, her program forgotten. “School? When? Where?” Was that fear Amy saw in her eyes? It only made her more nervous. Amy kept pushing for Mary to get out, but what would happen if she weren’t here anymore to give that nudge?
“Not far,” Amy assured her. “In the fall. I’ve been looking into college courses in the city. I’d have to get an apartment, but I wouldn’t be far away. I could come home lots. Every weekend.”
She wished she could tell what her mother was thinking. But years of hiding her emotions had served Mary well. Her face gave away nothing now that the initial shock was over. “You’re unhappy at the flower shop?” Mary asked.
Amy chose her words carefully. She didn’t want to put everything on her mother’s shoulders. It wasn’t about blame, though Amy did harbor some resentment for how she’d grown up in a cheerless house. At the same time, she understood. And she would never, ever want to add to her mom’s distress.
“I just can’t see myself staying there for the rest of my life, you know? I want more. I want...options. But I don’t want to leave you all alone, either.”
“Don’t worry about me.”
Amy frowned. “But I do worry about you. About you being alone. I wish you’d come with me to church. Maybe try to be a part of the community again. Don’t you think it’s time?”
Mary looked away. “Maybe another time. Just not today.”
Amy knew that look. It was the “discussion closed” look. Disappointed, she got up. “I won’t be too late,” she said quietly.
“Have a good time.”
The words sounded empty. There was no joy at Christmas, not in the Wilson house. And while Amy longed to get away, she was worried, too. Worried about what would happen to her mom if she were left all alone. At least now she left the house to work. Get groceries. What if that changed?
Amy walked to the church, taking deep breaths of the cold air and enjoying the sound of snow crunching under her favorite boots to shake her dull mood. The parking lot was already full and golden light spilled from the windows, welcoming her. She shook off the heavy weight of her talk with