Picking Up Cowboys by Lori Soard Page B

stimulating.
    “Fudge is ready,” she sang, yanking the pot off the burner and dumping a bag of semi-sweet chocolate chips and a jar of marshmallow cream into the pot.
    “Now what?”  Gage moved closer, glancing over her shoulder. 
    His body pressed against her back and Catherine closed her eyes.  “I stir some more.”
    “You certainly stir me,” he whispered.
    Catherine dropped the spoon and turned to face him, planting her hands on her hips.
    “Okay, what’s up?”
    Gage grinned and Catherine blushed.  He hadn’t moved back when she’d spun around and they stood so close their breaths mingled in an age-old dance.
    “Are you trying to seduce me?”  Catherine decided that a good offense was the best armor against his rugged charm.
    “Could I?”
    Catherine felt her jaw slacken.  “No.  So stop it.”  She turned back to the fudge and stirred vigorously to make up for the few seconds she’d allowed it to sit.
    “Liar.”  Gage’s breath brushed over her ear and Catherine began to tremble.  “But then you are a Claiborne.”
    “What’s that supposed to mean?”  Catherine poured the fudge into buttered pans and ran some water in the cooking pot.
    “Not a thing, darlin’.”  Gage’s voice took on the soft southern drawl that it did when he didn’t want to discuss something further.
    “Do you have something against Claibornes in general or is it just me?”
    Gage’s green eyes snapped hostilely for a minute and then a shutter fell over his emotions.  Perhaps she’d imagined it.  Or did he really want this ranch that badly?
    “Truce, Cat.  For Christmas.”  He lifted his hand and held the palm against her cheek.
    Catherine resisted the urge to rub herself against him like the domestic creature he was so fond of calling her.
    A truce for Christmas.  Was it just possible that they could be at peace for that short period of time?  A real Christmas.  Wistful longing swept through her, robbing her of her ability to answer him.
    “We’ll cook dinner together.”
    Catherine raised her gaze to his, but the emotions were still hidden and she couldn’t read his intentions.  Was this all a trick to get her to sell the ranch?  Or was he sincere?  Did it even matter?  A real Christmas.  This was what she’d always wanted.
    “Truce,” she agreed.
    Gage moved his hands to her shoulders and tugged her closer.  “Truces should always be sealed.”
    Catherine raised her brows.  “Oh, really?”
    “Yes.”  Gage lowered his head and captured her lips with his. 
    Catherine didn’t resist, she returned his kiss with more enthusiasm than she’d intended, but he didn’t linger.  He pulled back after that first brief kiss.  The faint taste of disappointment lingered in the back of her throat, which was ridiculous.  She hadn’t really wanted him to kiss her.  Of course not.  It was just the human contact at Christmas.  That’s all it was.
    “And tonight, Santa visits.”  The shutters flung open and Gage’s eyes filled with excitement.
    Catherine giggled.  “Were you like this as a child?”
    “Worse.” He grinned.  “Didn’t you get excited about Christmas?”
    Her thoughts were jagged and painful, like shards of glass covering her memories.  Excited?  How could you get excited when you knew there was no such person as Santa, or that Santa was the drunken shell of a man upstairs passed out?
     
    * * *
     
    Gage watched as the animation left Cat’s face to be replaced with sorrow.  Apparently he’d said the wrong thing.  Was it because this was her first Christmas without her father?  As much as he hated Mustang Claiborne, he supposed he could understand her grief.
    “Excited?”  Catherine laughed bitterly.
    Gage frowned.  She was still talking about Christmas and childhood.  What had upset her then?
    “I guess you could say I was usually anxious about Christmas as a child.”  Her even teeth came out and bit into her bottom lip.
    Gage wanted to take her