Christmastime Cowboy. Maisey Yates

      “How would it differ from Lane Donnelly’s store? She sells specialty foods.”

      “Well, we would focus on Grassroots Wine and Laughing Irish cheese. Also, I would happily purchase products from Lane’s to give the menu a local focus. It would be nothing big. Just a small lunch place with wine. Very limited selection. Very specialty. But in a town like Copper Ridge, that works well. People want to wander the historic main street and shop in boutiques. A place that offers the chance to sit and have a short break is perfect.”

      “Great,” she said, her smile remaining completely immobile.

      He took that moment to examine her even more closely. She was more beautiful now than she had been at seventeen. Her slightly round, soft face had refined in the ensuing years, her cheekbones now more prominent, the angle of her chin sharper.

      Her eyebrows looked different too. When she’d been a teenager they had been thinner, rounder. Now they were stronger, more angular.

      “Great,” he returned. “I guess we can go down and have a look at everything sometime this week. Gage West is the owner of the property, and he hasn’t listed it yet. Handily, my sister-in-law is good friends with his wife. Both of my sisters-in-law, actually. So I’ve got the inside track on that.”

      Her expression turned bland. “How impressive.”

      She sounded absolutely unimpressed. “It wasn’t intended to be impressive. Just useful.”

      Her lips twitched, like she was holding back a smile. But not a particularly nice smile. “Well, aim for what you can achieve, I suppose.”

      “I didn’t say I couldn’t be impressive if I had the mind to be,” he said, unwilling to let that dig go.

      Her lips twitched again, but this time he sensed a lot more irritation than he had before. “That won’t be necessary.” She cleared her throat. “Lindy and I had discussed a shop front in Gold Valley, since it’s slightly closer to the winery, and at the moment retail space is cheaper there. Why are you thinking Copper Ridge? Aside from the fact that it’s closer to your ranch.”

      “I just told you. I have the inside track on a good deal. Plus, Gold Valley isn’t as established a tourist spot as Copper Ridge. It’s definitely on its way, but it’s not there yet.”

      “But it’s on its way like you said. Property values are only going to go up.”

      “Property values in Copper Ridge already have. And oceanside real estate isn’t going to get cheaper. At the price Gage is willing to sell for we’ll come in with equity.”

      She looked irritated, but clearly didn’t have another argument ready. She sighed slowly. “Did you have a day of the week in mind to go view the property? Because I really am very busy.”

      “Are you?”

      “Yes,” she responded, that smile spreading over her face again. “This is a very demanding job, plus, I do have a life.”

      She stopped short of saying exactly what that life entailed.

      “Too busy to work on this project, which is part of your actual job?” he asked.

      She looked calm, but he could sense a dark energy beneath the surface that spoke of a need to savage him. “I had my schedule sorted out for the next couple of weeks. This is coming together more quickly than expected.”

      “I’ll work something out with Gage and give Lindy a call, how about that?”

      “You don’t have to call Lindy. I’ll give you my phone number. You can call or text me directly.”

      She reached over to the counter and chose a card from the rustic surface, extending her hand toward him. He took the card, their fingertips brushing each other as they made the handoff.

      And he felt it. Straight down to his groin, where he had always felt things for her, even though it was impossible. Even though he was all wrong for her. And even though now they were doing a business deal together, and she looked like she would cheerfully chew through his flesh if given half the chance.

      She might be smiling. But he didn’t trust that smile. He was still waiting. Waiting for her to shout recriminations at him now that they were alone. Every other time he had encountered her over the past four months it had been in public. Twice in Ace’s bar, and once walking down the street, where she had made a very quick sharp left to avoid walking past him.

      It had not been subtle, and it had certainly not spoken of somebody who was over the past.

      So, his assumption had been that if the two of them were ever alone she was going to let them have it. But she didn’t. Instead, she gave him that card, and then began to look...bored.

      “Did you need anything else?” she asked, still looking determinedly cheerful.

      “Not really. Though I have some spreadsheet information that you might want to look over. Ideas that I have for the layout, the menu. It is getting a little ahead of ourselves, in case we end up not liking the venue.”

      “You’ve been to look at the venue already, haven’t you?” It was vaguely accusatory.

      “I have been to the venue, yes. But again, I believe in preparedness. I was hardly going to get very deep into this if I didn’t think it was viable. Personally, I’m interested in making sure that we have diverse interests. The economy doesn’t typically favor farms, Sabrina. And that is essentially what my brothers and I have. I expect an uphill fight to make the ranch successful.”

      She tilted her head to the side. “And yet, our winery is well established and very healthy.”

      “But Lindy wants to expand, I’m not incorrect about that. She was very interested in this proposition, and not only that, she’s started hosting weddings and farm-to-table dinners, right?”

      “You know you’re right,” she said. “Like you said, you do your research.”

      Her friendliness was beginning to slip. And he waited. For something else. For something to get thrown at him. It didn’t happen.

      “That I do. Take these,” he said, handing her the folder that he was holding on to. He made sure their fingers didn’t touch this time. “And we’ll talk next week.”

      Then he turned and walked away from her, and resisted the strong impulse to turn back and get one more glance at her. It wasn’t the first time he had resisted that.

      He had a feeling it wouldn’t be the last.

      * * *

      AS SOON AS Liam walked out of the tasting room Sabrina let out a breath that had been killing her to keep in. A breath that contained about a thousand insults and recriminations. And more than a few very colorful swear word combinations. A breath that nearly cut her throat, because it was full of so many sharp and terrible things.

      She lifted her hands to her face and realized that they were shaking. It had been thirteen years. Why did he still affect her like this? Maybe, just maybe, if she had ever found a man that made her feel even half of what Liam did it wouldn’t be so bad dealing with him. The feelings wouldn’t be so strong.

      But she hadn’t. So, that supposition was basically moot.

      Everything that had been beautiful about him then had only magnified in intensity since. That square jaw more firm. Gold-tipped hair she wanted to run her fingers through. Green eyes that seemed to see directly inside her.

      The worst part was the tattoos. He’d had about three when he’d been nineteen. Now, they covered both of his arms, and she had the strongest urge to make them as familiar to her as the original tattoos had been. To memorize each and every detail about them.

      The tree was the one that really caught her attention. The Celtic knots, she knew, were likely a nod to Irish heritage, but the tree—whose branches she could see stretching down from his shoulder—she was curious about what that