The Mistletoe Effect (12 page)

The sprawling main house was a two-level U-shaped monstrosity. Considering that the only people in residence were Ty and Eloise, Haylie, Carina, and Granny June, it must seem absolutely cavernous. Besides the main house, the compound boasted a pool and a double-deep six-car garage with what Decker assumed was office space on the second level.

When they reached the gate, Carina walked Snowflake up to the key pad.

“You gonna be able to reach that?” Decker asked.

“Not sure yet.” She tugged on the left rein, trying unsuccessfully to convince Snowflake to turn sideways so she could reach the keys. Her fingertips were within inches of reaching, her arm and fingers stretched to their limit, when Snowflake sidestepped away.

Decker bit back a smile. “I think Snowflake has a mischievous side I never knew about. Let me help you off of him so you can get the code punched in.”

After dismounting, Decker helped her to do the same, taking extra care to cop a feel of her ass on the way down. He figured that with everything they did last night and the ring she wore, he was entitled to some liberties.

She gave Snowflake’s side a rub. “I’m finally getting the hang of riding again, I think.” Her cheeks were rosy and her eyes bright.

“Any time you would’ve wanted to ride, I would’ve taken care of everything—saddling, the cooldown. Whatever you needed. All you had to do was let me know.”

If possible, her cheeks pinked even more. “It wasn’t that simple.”

“Even so, the offer stands. Anytime you want to ride, say the word.”

With nervous, narrowed eyes that he was learning meant she had something to say but was holding herself back, she turned her nose into his coat, brushing her cheek and lips on it. He loved how she looked wearing it, all soft and feminine and small. He sure hoped it smelled of her when she gave it back. The mere thought of it got his blood pumping.

“Tell me what you’re afraid to say. I can see it in your eyes that you’re holding back.”

Her eyes went distant as though she was considering; then the words started flowing, seeming to burst out of her. “You always intimidated me. That was one reason I stopped riding. The thought of being in the stable, asking you for help …”

“Me? Why?”

Her expression turned sweetly exasperated. “Because you’re you and I’m me and …”

“And what?”

“And you are way out of my league.”

That was bullshit. He rubbed her arms. “Remind me again, whose family compound are we standing in front of?”

She smiled, catching his drift. “My family’s.”

“And who owns these thousands of acres and pays my salary?”

“My family.”

“Which one of us is the heiress to a fortune?”

She raised some fingers, timidly. An apologetic smile had turned up the corners of her lips.

“That’s what I thought. You should be the one feeling sorry for me, what with you being out of my league and all. I’m just a lowly stableboy.”

She laughed, and it was the sweetest sound. “Come on. Let’s get my stuff. I’m anxious to get back on Snowflake.”

“He’s a lucky guy.”

She punched in the key code while Decker tethered the horses to the fence; then he followed her through the gate and across the wide driveway toward the staircase that led to the rooms above the garage.

“I thought these were offices.”

“No. It used to be my grandfather’s retreat. Like a man cave. It sat empty for years, and when I was eighteen I drew up a proposal for my parents. Either I moved onto the university’s campus or they let me refurbish this place into an apartment.”

“Savvy move for a teenager.”

The observation earned him a shrug. “There aren’t many ways to get a little privacy around here, being that my family and I live and work in such close proximity. I keep meaning to build my own place on the southwest section of the property, but—”

“Let me guess, you haven’t had time.”

“Bingo.”

She unlocked a dead bolt. It struck him as odd that she’d lock it at all, given the gate around the compound and the fact that nobody in their right mind would mess with the Briscoes. He’d heard about the size of Ty’s shotgun collection from Wendell.

The apartment was a mess, with every surface covered with something. Piles of paperwork, reams of fabric. That surprised him. At the resort, she was the most organized, efficient worker he’d ever met. On top of that, there was not a single holiday decoration in the apartment, which was another surprise considering the passion and energy she poured into the resort’s lavish Christmas décor.

In the living room where a coffee table should be stood a headless mannequin wearing a half-sewn wedding dress. “There something you need to tell me? You weren’t engaged to another man before you married me, were you?”

He’d meant it as a joke, but it didn’t feel funny at all. The idea of her being with another man, of her wearing this dress for someone else, got Decker’s back up like nothing he’d ever experienced. He snorted an exhalation, reining it in and giving her a chance to explain herself without him turning into a pale imitation of her rant-prone father.

She fingered a sleeve, proud. “You like it?”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

She pressed her lips together, her eyes glowing with amusement, which told him he’d done a terrible job masking his displeasure.

“This is my hobby. More than a hobby, really. Designing and sewing one-of-a-kind wedding dresses is my passion. Always has been.”

“That’s not for you?”

She grinned. “No. I sell them through a friend’s bridal boutique in Los Angeles.”

“When? How? You said yourself you work six or seven days a week. Obviously, given the way you repurposed my tux this morning, you can sew, but this is more than sewing. This”—he waved his hand at the dress—“is incredible.”

It truly was. He knew even less about wedding dresses than he did about best man duties or dancing, but even his untrained eye could see it was a masterpiece of design and execution, with long sleeves, intricate beadwork across the bustline and waist, and material draped and gathered in all sorts of artistic ways that he bet accentuated a woman’s curves just right.

“This is what I do every free moment I have. It’s the biggest reason why it’s been years since I’ve ridden a horse. This is who I am.”

His gaze darted from the dress to her beaming smile. The real Carina, who she really was below the surface of her overworked, underappreciated family whipping girl facade. He’d been anticipating getting a glimpse of that by accompanying her to her house, but he’d never expected this. The confidence and passion she exuded when talking about her dressmaking far surpassed the hard-boiled pride with which she’d described the winter forest reception she’d created for Haylie’s wedding.

“Was Haylie wearing one of your dresses?”

At her head shake, he scoffed. “Are you kidding me? What, is this a secret from your family or something?”

“Oh my gosh, no. That’s not my style. I offered to design her a dress, but she had other ideas. It’s just as well, because she didn’t end up getting married anyway. For all we know, the dress she was wearing is in a Dumpster somewhere.”

“Then it’s a good thing it wasn’t a dress you made, because that would have been a tragedy, and I’m not being sarcastic. You have real talent, which begs another question. Why are you working here instead of making dresses full-time?”

He regretted the words instantly, because her face fell. She busied her hands worrying one of the buttons on the dress’s sleeve.

“The resort is my family’s business. Someday, I’ll be the third-generation Briscoe to run it.”

The way she’d regurgitated those lines from the speech he’d heard her father give more than three years earlier said a lot about how often Ty must have nailed home that point to Carina. It pissed Decker off that Ty had pressured her like that until she didn’t feel like she had options.
Sound like anyone else you know, Decker?

He shook away the errant thought. “Remember your promise to me. Tell me the truth.”

She dropped the sleeve and crossed her arms over her chest. “I promised to tell you what I want, not why I make the choices I do.”

“Okay, then tell me what you want. Do you want to run Briscoe Ranch Resort someday? Can you look me in the eye and tell me that’s your dream job?”

She chewed on her lower lip for a beat, then met his gaze. “No. In a perfect world, I’d be a wedding dress designer full-time. But—”

“You and your
buts
again.” He regretted interrupting her to say that because she stomped toward the bedroom, clearly frustrated. Well, he was frustrated, too, because, damn it, she wasn’t standing up for herself and what she wanted, as usual.

“Carina. I’m sorry. I just … You let your family walk all over you. Always have.” From the doorway, he watched her shove toiletries, underwear, and what looked like panty hose into a black leather overnight bag.

“What about you? Is being a stable manager your dream job? You’ve been here more than nine years, so you must love working for my dad, with our paltry stable of—what—fifteen or twenty horses, am I right?”

“No, I thought I’d be here four years, five tops, but unlike you, I’m doing something about it. Soon, with any luck.”

She stopped mid-zip of the bag and looked at him. “What does that mean? You’re quitting? To do what?”

Why did he feel like an asshole, telling her he was leaving the resort and moving on to greener pastures? He’d been planning the job change for years, and it wasn’t like she was his direct boss or his girlfriend or something. Sure, they were spending the month together, but they never promised each other more than that, romantically.

“I got a job offer to be a foreman and horse trainer at a large stable on the outskirts of Fort Worth, but I haven’t told your father yet.”

That implied request for her to stay quiet about it, too, didn’t feel right. And Decker flat out refused to tell her that the job depended on Ty’s blessing. Her smarts combined with her shaky, underdeveloped confidence might put the notion in her head that Decker had agreed to their sham marriage in order to get in good with her father, but his only consideration when he’d made the deal was the promise of getting under Carina’s dress. Repeatedly.

After a slow swallow, she forced a smile. “Good. You’ll be great at it. The resort will miss you.”

He stepped closer to her and smoothed his fingertips up her arm. “There are things I’ll miss about being here, too.”

Nuzzling her forehead against his chin, she whispered, “Don’t do that.”

He slid his hand up her ribs and settled it on her breast. “Do this?”

“No. Whisper sweet nothings about missing me. If you’re moving to Fort Worth next month, then let’s just agree to let this month be what it is and part as friends. As much as you want me to be honest with you about what I want, then you need to do the same.”

She was right, except what he wanted was getting all jumbled up. Nine years of knowing he was destined for more than Briscoe Ranch Resort could offer was warring with the connection with Carina he felt building strength. Fort Worth was only a four-hour drive, which didn’t mean a relationship with her was out of the question, but it wasn’t realistic. Given the hours he’d be working and the hours Carina worked, their opportunities to see each other would be few and far between.

“It wasn’t a sweet nothing. I will miss you. I’ll miss catching glimpses of you jogging across the resort grounds, your cell phone at your ear and a clipboard tucked under your arm. And I’ll definitely miss catching glimpses of you sunbathing.”

Her eyes widened at that.

“The Bohdie Falls trail has the best views, is all I’m sayin’.”

She gave him a gentle shove of admonishment. “You’ve been watching me?”

“You make me sound like a stalker. It wasn’t like I whipped out my camo clothes and binoculars or something.”

She gave him another light shove, which he countered with a kiss.

“Hey, seriously,” she said afterward. “Promise me you’ll be honest with me, too.”

“I promise. We’ll take this month for what it is and have some fun playing along with Granny June’s plans. I wish it didn’t have to go down like this, with me leaving next month, but I can’t go back in time and fix my mistake of not getting you alone years ago.”

Her sexy smile spoke volumes as she scraped her nails lightly over his neck. “That
was
a terrible mistake.”

“Question—where are your Christmas decorations? I haven’t gotten mine up yet, but it’s only December second. I would’ve thought you of all people would’ve had them up by the day after Thanksgiving.”

“The decorations around the resort provide all the Christmas spirit I can handle.”

Her words from last night came back to him.
Christmas is complicated.
“What is it with you and Christmas?”

She didn’t answer him right away, but the same weariness that she’d had last night when he’d brought it up settled on her face once more. “Let’s get back on the trail to your place. I’ll tell you on the way.”

As they passed through her living room, he caught her eying the wedding dress. “My place has a spare room that I’ve never made great use of, if you’d like to bring over your sewing gear and the dress tomorrow.”

She seemed genuinely touched by the gesture, which confirmed in his mind how important sewing was to her.
Hobby, my ass.
Right then and there, he knew what he had to do. Just as he was finally going after his own dream career, he vowed to do all he could to help Carina gain the confidence to go after hers.

Outside, Snowflake and Dasher were taking it easy, watching the world with the quiet patience of horses who’d been waiting around for humans all their lives. Decker took Carina’s bag from her and helped her onto Snowflake, then mounted Dasher and scratched the horse behind the ear while he waited for Carina to get settled and ready to ride again. Yeah, there was a lot he was going to miss about this place. Carina, of course, but Dasher, too, along with the rest of the stable of horses that his world revolved around.

He waited to broach the subject of Christmas until they’d settled back into a rhythm while headed south on the riding trail that skirted the edges of the property and led to his house on the opposite corner from the Briscoe compound. Though he was loathe to put that weary look on her face again, he was too curious about Carina and what made her tick to drop the subject. “All right, I promise this is the last time we have to talk about it, but I need to know. Why is Christmas complicated?”