His Christmas Sweetheart

“Don’t I wish,” Cissy sighed.

Miranda busied herself refilling salt and pepper shakers before the dinner crowd arrived in full force.

“He’s sure noticing you,” Cissy said.

Miranda glanced quickly at Will and pretended nonchalance. “Oh?”

“As if you didn’t know.”

“We’re friends. He comes by my elder-care home. To visit one of my residents,” she clarified.

“Uh-huh.” Cissy’s reply oozed sarcasm.

“No, really.” If Will had been wanting to visit Miranda all along, he wouldn’t have recently stopped.

“Well, I’m giving you fair warning. If he decides to be my friend, I’m totally taking him up on it.”

Hmm. Like hell.

The saloon was filling up by the minute and she was running around like crazy. Even so, Will was never out of her visual range for long. More than once their glances connected.

She tried reading what lay behind his expression without success, which only served to increase her interest. When he pushed to his feet and reached for his hat on the bar, she was right there beside him.

“You leaving?”

“I have to get back before dark.”

“It’s only five.”

“I’m riding.”

“You are?”

She’d missed seeing him arrive by horseback. She wouldn’t miss seeing him leave. Will astride a horse was a worthy sight.

“Later.” He touched the brim of his hat.

“Does that mean you’re stopping by the house soon?”

“I’ll try.” At least his tone was more positive than the last time.

Donning his jacket, Will left, zigzagging between the tables, his long strides taking him to the door in a matter of seconds.

Without thinking, Miranda set down her tray on the end of the bar and announced to Cissy, “I’m on break. Be back in ten,” then hurried after Will.

“Hey!” the other server called out.

She kept going, ignoring the twinge of guilt pricking at her. She’d make it up to Cissy later.

Will beat her through the door and was halfway around the side of the building by the time she burst outside.

Holy, schmoley, it was cold! She should have remembered her coat. Well, there was no going back now.

Hugging herself, she ducked around the building and came upon Will checking the cinch on his saddle before mounting. The horse bobbed its head in eager anticipation.

Miranda wasted no time. “Will!”

He turned, surprise registering on his face. “I left the money for my tab on the bar.”

“It’s not that.”

“What then?”

She started to shiver, from nerves as much as the cold. Clearly she should have thought this plan through a little more, come up with an excuse for waylaying him. And remembered her coat.

Her shivering increased until she was shaking. “P-p-please come visit Mrs. L-L-Litey.”

“You’re freezing.” He took a step toward her.

“For h-her sake. N-n-not mine.”

“Dammit, Miranda.”

The distance separating them disappeared. In the next instant he was wrapping her in his arms and drawing her against his chest. It felt nice. He rubbed her arms, creating a soothing friction. She burrowed deeper, and a sound of contentment slipped out before she could stop herself. His arms tightened their hold.

She waited. Surely he would kiss her. When he didn’t, Miranda raised her face to his.

Nothing.

She parted her lips and linked an arm around his neck, inching even closer. Still nothing.

Really? Okay, the guy might be shy, but he wasn’t dense. He could be wearing a gunnysack over his head and not realize she wanted him to kiss her.

More drastic measures were clearly called for.

“Will?” She rose on tiptoe, their mouths close enough she could feel his warm breath on her skin.

“Yeah?”

“I’m not cold anymore.”

“That’s good.”

The horse nickered impatiently, but Miranda paid no heed. Her other arm joined her first as she anchored herself more securely to Will. “In fact, I’m quite comfortable.”

He immediately stiffened and started to pull away.

As if she would let that happen. “Dammit, Will. Enough with the game playing. Kiss me already.”