Название | Christmas with the Rancher |
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Автор произведения | Mary Leo |
Жанр | Контркультура |
Серия | Mills & Boon American Romance |
Издательство | Контркультура |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781472071583 |
No way did she want to run into Travis.
Ever.
Under no circumstances.
If her dad hadn’t agreed to keep him away, she wouldn’t have come. No way could she deal with seeing him again...all grown up...wearing butt-hugging jeans and a cowboy hat.
Nope, she could do very nicely without that meeting.
And just as she thought it, there was a loud clatter coming from up above her.
“Look out!” a male voice yelled.
She stared up as a black cowboy hat came tumbling off the roof followed by a man holding on to a thick white rope. He caught himself on the trellis that crept up the front of the building. Then in what seemed like slow motion, he lost his hold and with more hooting he slid off the trellis and reached for a low-hanging branch of the barren maple tree. He only briefly caught it then slid off that and swung toward the front porch. He put out his hands and grabbed hold of the gutter that ran around the roof of the front porch, finally stopping his momentum.
He hung there, strapped in his red harness, momentarily facing the front door.
No one moved or spoke as he slowly swung himself around to face Bella.
“Woo-hoo! That was one hell of an entrance!” he howled.
Despite the stubbly facial hair, something Bella did not usually like on a man, she knew absolutely she was gawking at a grown-up Travis Granger, and from his entrance, grown-up status had obviously completely eluded him.
She lifted an eyebrow, smirked and said, “I’m not impressed.”
Although, if truth be told, the little girl in her would have loved to be swinging on the harness with him, but she abruptly quashed that childish notion.
She walked away from him and calmly seized her father’s arm, trying her best not to show her anger in front of Travis as she guided her turncoat dad toward the lobby of the inn.
“We need to talk,” she told her dad as they padded around the dangling Travis, who smiled over at her looking every bit as sexy as she had imagined he would be. His hair color hadn’t changed much from a sandy shade of light brown, only the golden sun streaks were gone and he wore it cropped fairly short now. Despite his having worn a hat, she could tell there was a lot of style going on with all that thick hair.
She’d forgotten how gray his eyes were, the color of slate, but she hadn’t forgotten how his lips had once felt on hers, all warm and sexy. No other boy could kiss like Travis Granger. If he’d improved at all on that thirteen-year-old kiss, which looking at him now he most certainly had to, she definitely needed to get out of Briggs before the ink dried on the documents she wanted her father to sign.
Being around Travis again only deepened the wound in her heart. She’d cried enough tears over him when she first left Briggs. She sure as heck wasn’t going to go through that again no matter how perfectly his jeans hugged his butt or how hot he looked dangling in a harness.
* * *
TRAVIS LET OUT another loud whoop once Colt and Dodge rescued him. Bella had disappeared into the inn with her dad and Joey, who had followed close behind.
“That woman is a different kind of fine,” Travis cooed, every cell in his body excited about seeing Bella again.
Bella Biondi had grown into a siren of an Italian beauty with thick black hair, smokin’ hot eyes and an attitude that made him want to know exactly what she kept hidden under all that bluster.
“Maybe so, but that fine lady doesn’t seem to want any part of you,” Colt told him as he helped brush off the snow that Travis was covered in.
“There’s where you’re wrong, brother. She’s begging me to break through that hard shell of hers,” Travis said as he retrieved his hat and dusted off the snow.
“I’m thinking that there shell of hers is thicker than twelve-gauge steel, son,” Dodge said. “You’re gonna need a blowtorch to get through it. And in the end, you might be the one gettin’ burned.”
“I’ve never been afraid of a little heat,” Travis joked. “It keeps things moving along at a fast pace.”
Dodge opened the front door to the inn and the three men walked inside, with Travis honed in on Bella who had removed her coat and knit hat. She looked even more dazzling in a red sweater and tight jeans that showed off every curve of her lean body.
“Everyone, please stop decorating!” Bella announced to Helen, Colt’s wife, and their four kids who were busy trimming the monster blue spruce centered in the front bank of windows. Colt’s toddler must have gotten scared because she dropped the glass ornament she’d been holding. It shattered on the floor and she began to cry.
Her mom whisked her up and comforted her, but there was no calming the tearful child.
Helen threw Bella an angry look and immediately took the children into the empty back dining room. Most of the guests left for the day right after breakfast, so the inn was always deserted in the afternoons.
“That might have been a little harsh, honey,” Nick said, but Bella didn’t flinch.
“I’m sorry, but we have a flight out of here this evening. Decorating is a waste of everyone’s time. Of course, you already knew that, Dad, so I don’t get all of this.”
She opened her black briefcase, pulled out a stack of papers, and carefully placed them on a coffee table in front of the tufted brown leather sofa.
“He wanted everything to be perfect for you,” Travis said. “We’ve been working round the clock to make the inn look like it did when you were a kid.”
“Excuse me,” Colt said and followed after his wife and children into the back dining room. Dodge retreated out the front door.
“Thanks, but that, too, was a total waste of everyone’s time. There will be no Christmas celebrations at the inn this year.” She said it as though she had the final word on the issue instead of Nick.
Travis immediately turned to Nick who placed an elbow on the black walnut mantel at the far end of the room. A fire roared in the hearth behind him, warming the festive room. Nick didn’t flinch, smile or react. He merely stared at his daughter, stone-faced.
Travis decided to take another approach, rubbed his now itchy chin and spread a friendly smile across his face. “I don’t know what you might have planned, but that’s not exactly an option. Your dad and half the town have been gearing up for this Christmas for the last six months. The inn is booked to eighty percent capacity, and every event that takes place in this town for the next week all begin and end right here. It’s going to be the best Christmas Dream Weaver Inn has ever known.”
She folded her arms across her chest, and stuck out a hip. “Apparently my dad hasn’t told anyone that he’s sold the inn. I’ve brought the paperwork he needs to sign to make it official, but that’s only a formality.”
Travis felt as if he’d been sucker-punched in the gut. “That can’t be true. There’s some misunderstanding. Your dad wouldn’t sell his inn and not tell me. I’ve been repairing it—” That stopped him cold and he turned to face Nick. “You didn’t have me put in all that time, all that work so you could sell it, did you? What’s she talking about, Nick? You sold the inn? It can’t be true. You love this place. The town loves this place.”
“It’s complicated,” Nick said and plopped down on the sofa, running a hand through his graying brown hair.
Travis stood his ground. He had a lot invested in this Christmas and most of the planned events were his doing. He was not about to walk away and let hard-shelled Bella Biondi swipe everything away with