Cathy Gillen - Lone Star Christmas

He grinned.

“But this isn’t seventh grade.”

“You’re right.” He rubbed the flat of his hand beneath the underside of his smoothly shaven jaw. “I never went to second base in seventh grade...and I suspect you didn’t, either.”

Ignoring that last comment, she plunged ahead. “Furthermore, I don’t get involved with sexy upstarts. Never have. Never will.”

His expression sobered, all but his eyes, which were still gleaming merrily. “Good to know.”

Feeling like a schoolmarm in front of an unruly class, Callie lifted a lecturing hand. “From this point forward, there is not going to be anything going on between us—except cooperation of a business nature.”

Nash went back to the table to claim the serving dishes. “Speaking of which...did Frank and Fiona Sanders tell you that they have invited me and my crew to join the Old-Fashioned Christmas Celebration at Sanders Mountain on December twenty-first?”

* * *

CALLIE STARED AT him in shock. “The Sanders did what?”

“Asked me to participate. They said you are organizing it.”

Telling herself she had not just stumbled into a lion’s den of temptation, Callie kept her eyes locked with his. “Although I no longer work full-time at the Double Knot, I still advise them part-time and help out with all the marketing.”

“Is this an annual event?” he asked.

Glad to be moving back to a conversation that was strictly business, she got the last of the serving dishes and slid them into the dishwasher. “It’s the first, although we’re expecting it to become a beloved yearly tradition.”

Nash stepped back, giving her room to work. “How did it come about?”

Callie added soap to the dishwasher and turned it on. “They don’t book a lot of outdoor weddings for Nature’s Cathedral in December and January—the weather is too cold for most. So I suggested that Frank and Fiona use the lag time to put on an old-fashioned Christmas Celebration for their clients, suppliers and referral partners and their families, both as a way of saying thank you and to drum up future business.”

She switched off the light and he followed her into the hall. “For you, as well?”

Callie nodded. “We could do the same for your Christmas tree business.”

“As well as the xeriscape plants and trees I am hoping to sell to local garden centers.”

She paused next to the coatrack in the foyer. “In the meantime, you could do what I am going to do, and raffle off free trees and/or evergreen wreaths to whatever number of lucky guests you decide upon.”

“How many people are you hoping to host?”

“Five hundred or so. Although invitations are going out for close to one thousand guests.”

He smiled. “Impressive.”

She reached for his hat and coat, and handed them to him. “We’re setting up the party barn at the Double Knot as a Santa’s Village. Hart is going to play Santa. We’ll also have photographers, train rides up the mountain and a choir and a brass quintet at Nature’s Cathedral to get people in the holiday mood.”

“Sounds great.”

She arched a brow. “So you’re in?”

“Absolutely.”

“It means you’ll have to help the day of the event, as well as the week or so leading up to it,” she warned. “Sure you’re up to that?”

“No problem. As soon as I fill the orders for the Christmas trees I already have, my schedule will free up considerably.”

They looked at each other.

Callie knew if he stayed they would only end up kissing again. She made a show of stifling a yawn.

He grinned, as if knowing however tired she might be, sleep was going to be a long time coming. Especially if she started thinking about the way he had kissed her, and touched her, again...

Which, she told herself firmly, she would not.

His grin widened all the more. “I can take a hint.” He shrugged on his coat and ambled toward the front door. “If you need anything before Monday...” he said over his shoulder.

“I’m good, but thanks.” She reached for the knob and opened the door for him.

“Seriously.” He paused, looking down at her, tenderness pushing aside the mischief in his eyes. “I’m here for you.”

Callie nodded, a lump in her throat. It had been a long time since she had been looked after by any man.

He settled his Stetson square on his head. “This is where you tell me you’re here for me, too.”

She continued looking at him, poker-faced.

He winked. “Us being neighbors and all...”

He really knew how to put a gal on the spot. Lucky for him, she’d been brought up to be a Texas lady. “I’m here for you—as a neighbor—too,” she said finally.

He looked like he’d won the lottery. “Just what I wanted to hear.”

To her surprise, she felt like she had won it, too.

“In the meantime,” he went on, stepping over the threshold, “it’s supposed to rain tomorrow. So we probably won’t be working.”

Callie lounged in the doorway, arms crossed, aware he had planned for weather delays.

“So if you and Brian are up for it,” Nash continued genially, “I was going to see—”

Callie held up a hand, cutting him off. “Actually, we already have a get-together planned for tomorrow. But maybe some other time?” For a moment, Nash looked like he wanted to say something else. Then he stopped himself, nodded. “Some other time, then,” he said.

And, looking more cheerful than ever, left.

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