Mistletoe Rodeo. Laura Marie AltomЧитать онлайн книгу.
at the studio, but since her condo was on the way to the ranch, there was no sense in backtracking.
George was a friend Nola trusted completely. A veteran himself, George had witnessed more than his share of fighting and tragedy after serving twenty years in the Navy. Unlike Nola, he’d come to town to retire and wind down, not climb the ladder of success. George was one of the few people who knew of Nola’s past and her current fears. Nola regarded him as a pinch-hitting father, and she was grateful George kept her secrets even though it must put a strain on his marriage.
“I see you dressed down today.” George regarded her wardrobe choice and nodded. “I approve.”
Nola looked down at her favorite buttery soft gray T-shirt, semi-faded jeans and cowboy boots. She was comfortable to a point but felt exposed without her Spanx. “I’m not sure how long I’m going to last in these boots. I bought them a couple years ago because everyone said I needed a pair in Texas, but I’ve hardly worn them. I’m going to get blisters.”
George laughed at her. “You need to get out more and do some dancing to break them in.”
“Why? To add blisters on top of my blisters? No, thanks. Besides, I don’t dance.”
“You need to learn,” George said. “But have no fear. There’s still a pair of your nasty old black Converse sneakers in the back of the van. At least I think that’s what I smell.”
“Why, you—” Nola hauled off and playfully smacked him. “That’s not right and you know it. Stop laughing and keep your eyes on the road.”
George composed himself and cleared his throat. “You and Chase looked pretty chummy at the baggage claim.”
“Chummy? How?” Nola hoped she hadn’t looked like a lovesick fan. Chase’s hard, chiseled features had softened during the flight and Nola had begun to see a side of him she hadn’t known existed.
Chase had always come across as the quiet, watchful brother in the background. During the Ride ’em High! and Dance of Hope grand opening, Nola had noticed how Chase allowed the rest of the family to revel in the spotlight, and Nola respected his modesty despite his exorbitant wealth.
The van stopped at a red light. “I do believe you’re blushing.” George lifted his sunglasses and leaned over the center console to take a better look. “You are blushing.”
His encroachment on her personal space snapped Nola back to reality. “What are you doing?”
“Honey, you’ve got it bad.” George whipped out his cell phone and snapped a picture of Nola.
“What was that for?”
“No one would ever believe me if I told them Nola West was not only frazzled, but frazzled over a man.”
“You realize I know over a hundred ways to kill you, right?”
“Yeah, but you won’t.” George chuckled. “Besides you’ll need me to be your bridesman at the wedding.”
“Bridesman?”
“Who else is better suited to stand up for you when you marry Chase Langtry? You don’t have any close friends nearby and you lean toward the unconventional. Instead of a bridesmaid, you’ll have a bridesman. Me.”
“You’re deranged, you know that? I am not marrying Chase Langtry, or anyone else for that matter.” Nola refused to allow herself even one second of imagining marriage to Chase Langtry. “We don’t exactly run in the same social circles.”
“Brace yourself, darlin’. We are about to enter Camelot.”
Camelot was the nickname George and Nola had given Bridle Dance the first day they’d seen the log home whose size rivaled that of a small castle. The horses lived better than Nola did. The familiar entrance to the ranch was majestic with its bronze rearing-horse sculptures on either side of the wrought iron sign. Only they’d never seen them with gigantic red bows around their necks. Nola was willing to bet that once the sun set, the main road would light up like a fairy-tale forest of sparkling lights.
The drive was unpaved and dusty, and Nola loved how the Langtrys had maintained a rustic atmosphere. With the exception of a few side businesses, like the winery and the sod farm, the majority of the ranch was devoted to horses.
“What on earth is that?” George asked.
“It looks like Santa.” Nola peered through the windshield. “Are those real reindeer?”
“I hope not.” George slowed the van as they passed the Christmas sleigh display. “They sure do look like it though, don’t they?”
“That’s borderline scary.” Nola laughed. “I love Rudolph, though. Good God, look at the house. How many wreaths do you think they have on that thing?”
“Forget the house—there’s your Prince Charming.”
Chase waved from the garland-draped front porch, where boughs of holly framed the front door. As he stepped down the stairs, the sun glinted off his golden hair, and Nola thought it was unusual to see Chase hatless. There was nothing shading his gorgeous Caribbean blue eyes. Normally a man without a hat appeared more vulnerable to her, but the opposite held true with Chase. He looked more raw and rugged, and Nola was aching to run her fingers through his hair.
“Like I said, you’ve got it bad.” George parked the van and smiled at her.
“If you do one thing to humiliate me, I promise you’ll live to regret it.” Nola watched Chase walk toward them and prayed she wouldn’t embarrass herself.
Chase opened Nola’s door before she reached for the handle. As he swung the door wide, a crisp breeze swept across Nola’s face and chest. And that was when her body betrayed her. Victoria’s Secret be damned, her nipples stood at attention right through her shirt.
A slow, easy grin spread across Chase’s face. “You might want to grab a jacket if you have one. It’s a bit chilly today.”
So much for not embarrassing herself.
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