Kissed by a Rancher. Sara OrwigЧитать онлайн книгу.
a small bar in the corner of the back room. We were in the living room last night because of the piano, but usually we gather in the back sitting room because it’s the largest. Through that door. I’ll hurry and be in the kitchen in about twenty minutes.”
He set his glass in the sink and caught up with her to head toward his room. They parted at the door, and she rushed on to her entrance. She had spent the day with him, and it had flown by swiftly. She liked being with him, still had the dizzying response to him physically and anticipated with a growing eagerness being with him again soon.
She knew that Josh would disappear from her life, but it had been fun while he was here—because she wasn’t letting herself fall for him.
She showered and dressed in another thick sweater, this time pink. She pulled on jeans and her suede boots and brushed her hair into a fresh ponytail.
With an uncustomary eagerness, Abby went to the kitchen to check on dinner and set the table. Josh was already there in a charcoal sweater, chinos and his Western boots, his straight, short brown hair neatly combed. He hadn’t shaved today, and a faint dark shadow of stubble on his jaw gave him a rugged look and added to his appeal. He was handsome enough that she had to fight the temptation to stare. Once again, Josh was helpful, setting the dining room table without even being asked.
When the first guests came downstairs, Josh left to serve them drinks. She was busy all through dinner and afterward until the kitchen was clean and everything put away. She heard Josh join the guests about five minutes before she did. As she went into the big sitting room, she could see through an open door some of the men playing pool in the billiards room. In the sitting room, some of the little girls sat at a table with crayons and coloring books. Other kids worked a puzzle, while two teens were busy with their phones. She looked at the fire Josh had built before dinner and saw it would soon go out.
Crossing the room to a game table, she stopped beside Josh, who sat playing cards with Mr. Hickman.
“Can I trade places briefly with you and get you to bring in some logs from the woodpile so the fire doesn’t die?”
“Sure,” Josh said, standing. “It’s your turn, Mr. Hickman.”
“I know, I know,” he said without looking up.
She smiled at Josh, who stood only inches away. She hoped he never realized the extent of the reaction she had to his presence. “The woodpile is below the east windows of this room,” she said, pointing. “You can go out through the kitchen. Thanks.”
She slid onto his seat and watched Mr. Hickman. His wrinkled hands were poised on the edge of the board as he studied his cards.
They each played several cards before Josh returned carrying logs. He paused near Abby. “Folks, there is a huge full moon that you can see rising over the horizon if you step outside and look to the east,” he announced, looking around the room. He glanced at Abby. “It’s marvelous out,” he added, setting down the logs. “Let’s go look and then I’ll build a fire.”
“Mr. Hickman, do you want to look at the moon?” she asked.
“Of course,” he said. “I’ll get my coat. It’s supposed to be seventeen degrees tonight.”
“Can I go upstairs and get it for you, sir?” Josh asked.
“It’s down here in the hall closet,” Abby said.
“Thank you very much anyway,” Mr. Hickman said to Josh.
Once Mr. Hickman had on his coat, Abby got hers out of the hall closet, and Josh held it for her as she slipped into it. “Ready, Mr. Hickman?”
“Ready,” he replied.
Abby linked arms with Mr. Hickman and was aware of Josh moving to the other side of him. Josh held the door, and finally they stepped out onto the porch and walked around the house. Her guests were clustered there, some huddled together because they hadn’t bothered to get their coats. Some gasped at the wintry scene. The wind had finally died, and the snow had stopped falling. It was a cold, clear night, and an enormous moon hovered over the horizon. The moon was a huge white ball with gray patterns on its surface. Nobody had walked through the snow beyond the house yet, and it was pristine, glistening in the bright moonlight.
“Just a minute,” Abby said, releasing Mr. Hickman’s arm and walking to one side of the crowd. “Folks, we have an old Texas legend about the moon. If you’ll move over here on the porch where I’m standing, you can see two oak trees in the yard with entwined branches.” She waited a moment as the group clustered around her.
“The full moon shining on those oak trees sometimes casts a heart-shaped shadow. There’s an old legend here that if two people kiss in that shadow, they will fall in love with each other for the rest of their lives. If you want to see the shadow, you have to stand on this part of the porch, or if you’re in the yard, stand right in front of the porch at this place.”
“Has anyone who has stayed at the inn ever seen it and kissed in the shadow?” someone asked.
“Oh, yes,” Abby said. “Including my grandparents. My grandfather died very young, so my grandmother wasn’t married long, but she always loved him and has never remarried.” Talking softly, people turned to watch as shadows across the snow changed gradually.
“So, have you ever kissed in this shadow?” a deep voice asked beside Abby. She turned to glance at Josh, thankful for the darkness that hid a blush warming her cheeks.
“No, I haven’t. There—look, Josh, I think the shadow is forming,” she whispered, watching the shifting dark patterns on the dazzling white snow. The crowd became silent, seemingly transfixed.
There was a collective gasp when a heart-shaped shadow became visible. People began to call out about it and hold up their phones to take pictures. One couple ran down the porch steps to kiss in the shadow. Two more couples joined them, and little kids laughed and clapped. Someone whistled.
“We can’t waste that,” Josh said, taking her hand and hurrying down the steps.
“Josh—”
“It’s only a kiss,” he said, rushing to stand in the shadow of the heart and pull her to him.
“This is absurd,” she said, laughing, her own heart pounding wildly. “Suppose it comes true? We don’t even know each other. You’re tempting fate. We might not like each other—”
“We’ll find out,” he said, wrapping his arms around her and leaning down to kiss her. His mouth covered hers.
Shocked, excited, caught off guard, she thought this kiss was the craziest thing she had ever done in her quiet, ordinary life. And then she stopped thinking and was consumed by his kiss, which built a fire deep within her. She couldn’t get her breath. She became oblivious to the cold, the snow and the people around her, as well as the knowledge that she barely knew Josh. All she was aware of was his mouth on hers, his arms banding her tightly, holding her against his solid, warm length.
She had never been kissed like this, held like this. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him passionately in return. The reason for their kiss vanished. All she knew was Josh, his hard strength, his tongue that took her breath completely and stirred her desire to a level she hadn’t experienced before.
With Josh’s kiss, her world and her life underwent a change as subtle as the shifting shadows around her, but in another way, a change far more monumental. Desire burned hotly, enveloping her, permeating her being. She clung tightly to him, kissing him in a way she had never kissed any other man.
At some point she realized where she was and what she was doing. With an effort she stepped back. As they broke apart, people clapped again, laughed and whistled. She was thankful for the darkness, because her face burned from embarrassment as she tried to smile but couldn’t.
For once, Josh’s ever-ready smile didn’t appear. He stared at her.
“We drew a crowd,”