Christmastime Cowboy

Bank coffee was not his favorite.

“There you are,” she said. “You’re late.”

He lifted his arm and looked at his watch. “Like two minutes late. Are they waiting?”

“No,” she said. “But I was.”

She turned sharply and went back into the building, and he shook his head as he followed her in.

The credit union building was new, at least new to him. With high ceilings and glossy floors. It was much larger and a bit fancier than anything he typically ascribed to the aesthetic of Copper Ridge. Though, there was also a touch of that rustic Oregon flair in the wooden crossbeams on the ceiling, and the supports throughout the lobby area. There were large windows that made the most of the view of the rocks, scrubby pines and the ocean out back.

The mist was clinging to the top of the gray waves today, the sky blending into the water.

And Sabrina stood out in bright contrast to that.

She surprised him today, wearing a pair of black pants that conformed to her slender legs, bright pink shoes and a neutral-colored sweater. Her blond hair was up. He hadn’t seen it down once since he had come back.

It made his fingers itch.

He found the coffee station and decided to make himself a cup, even though it involved powdered creamer. It was something to do. Something other than reaching up and taking Sabrina’s hair out of its bun.

He imagined that he probably shouldn’t harass her right before they went in to sign paperwork. He should wait until after. When it was too late for her to pull out.

He had already faxed over all the legal agreements for the business partnership, and they had been signed by Lindy. For this, Sabrina would be signing on behalf of the winery.

“Have you ever done this before?” he asked.

She jerked, like he had shocked her with a cattle prod. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Have you ever signed mortgage documents?”

“Yes. I bought a house four years ago.”

“Good.” That kind of surprised him. He wasn’t sure what he had expected. That she lived on the winery property, or that she perhaps still lived with her parents. Which was ridiculous, considering she was thirty years old.

But rich girls like her, they often did continue living with their parents. At least, in his head they did. Otherwise, they were sent to some fancy school by their parents. And then subsequently had their housing paid for.

“Where did you go to school?”

She looked at him blankly. “What?”

He realized that he had skipped a step with her. But in his head it had made sense. “School. I was just wondering where you went to college.”

“Oh. Just... I went to Oregon State.”

“I figured you would go somewhere a little bit...bigger of a deal.”

“It’s a great school,” she said, visibly bristling. “Go Ducks.”

It was fine enough, he was sure. But he had gone to a top-ranked university with her father’s money. He had assumed that she would do nothing less.

“I figured that you would go somewhere further afield,” he said. “That’s all.”

She stiffened. “Things change.”

“All right. I guess that’s true. So, what kind of house do you have?”

“What, is this interrogate Sabrina hour?”

“In fairness, it’s basically interrogate Sabrina five minutes. Hour is vastly dramatizing the situation.”

“Have you ever bought a house?” she asked, clearly looking to turn the spotlight onto him.

“Not a house. But a penthouse. New York City.”

She blinked rapidly, her pale eyebrows knitting together. “But those cost...millions of dollars.”

He just let the implication of that hang between them, and watched as her skin went slightly waxen.

“Grassroots Winery and Laughing Irish?” An older woman with dark hair peeked out of one of the glass corner offices with a smile pasted on her face.

“That’s us,” Liam confirmed.

For some reason—instinct, something—he reached out and pressed his palm against Sabrina’s lower back to guide her toward the office. She stopped dead in her tracks, her gaze sliding over to him, irritation glittering sharply there.

“Do you touch men you’re doing business deals with like that? Because I’ll tell you, that’s some mental image.”

“No,” he said, lowering his hand slowly.

“I don’t mind a little Brokeback Mountain fantasy, Liam.”

“After you,” he said, waiting for her to walk into the office before he followed behind her.

It had been a stupid thing to do, touching her like that. Normally, he would never do something so asinine with the woman he was doing a business deal with. He would normally never do that with anyone.

There was just something about Sabrina that pushed him to do things he was usually way too smart to do.

They took a seat at the table with the banker and with another person who was introduced as the notary. Gage West had apparently signed his end of the deal already.

The stack of papers was indeed massive, and both Liam and Sabrina were given pens before the banker handed him the first page, which Sabrina promptly took. “We’re the first name on the documents, as we own a larger portion,” she said crisply.

She signed quickly next to a sticky tab, then passed the paper back to him. As if it mattered which order they signed in as long as they signed on the right spot. But he could tell she was compelled to make an issue out of it, so he was going to let it go.

They carried out the signing in relative silence, the only real conversation happening when the banker explained a page that he was certain both he and Sabrina already understood, but that she was legally bound to verbally expound on.

Sabrina passed one paper to him, and he pressed his fingertips down on it, brushing the tips of them against hers. She jerked back, trying to look composed as she moved on to signing the next document.

“There,” the woman said, smiling through the tension that was making the air crackle, “all finished. Congratulations. You are now the proud owners of some very nice property.”