Christmas Kisses with My Cowboy - Diana Palmer Page 0,80
home and raise your kid brother. Which you’re doing a damn fine job of,” he whispered. “A file is nothing but details of the worst moments of someone’s life. And angel, you’re worth a hell of a lot more than a quick glance at a screen.”
“Oh,” was all she said, unable to pull her focus from his lips. She couldn’t help it. Noah had the most mesmerizing lips. And the words he’d spoken stole her breath.
“Now, from what I gather, you’re a private person. Whether by nature or necessity, I don’t know, but I’d like to find out,” he said, and dread filled her chest.
Was there time to change her mind? Tell him, “Now that I’ve had time to think, maybe you should read my file, in the privacy of your own office, hundreds of miles away. That would be way less embarrassing than me recounting every awful, tragic, and mortifying detail while you look at me with horror.”
But that was a Hope move. Draw them in, then disappear when things fell apart.
“I’m not sure where to start. All of it’s pretty bad.” She’d never admitted that to anyone. Most people knew bits and pieces, but no one knew the whole story. And Faith took comfort in that. “What do you want to know?” she asked, wondering why she was going down this path.
Because you can’t carry it all alone anymore.
He peeked over her shoulder at the mess on her counter. “How about we start with something you enjoy? Walk me through what you’re baking.”
“Baking?” She blinked. “You can ask me any question and you want to know what I’m baking?”
He shrugged. “Courting usually starts with the fun stuff. The hard stuff comes later. Why shouldn’t you have the same experience? Plus, I like cookies.” He leaned close. “And I like seeing you smile.”
With that he backed away, to stand by her side. She didn’t know what to say. Or how to feel. Because for the first time since her daddy went to prison, someone who knew enough about Faith’s past to get that it was scandalous, was more interested in the small things that made her . . . her.
He bumped her shoulder with his. “So bears with hats, huh?”
She couldn’t hide her smile, or her gratitude. “They’re my ginger bears. It’s the first thing I taught myself to bake. Over the years I’ve made some changes, but whenever I bake them, I feel like I’m that twelve-year-old kid who still thought Christmas was magical.”
“And now?”
She shrugged. “I bake them for the Treats for Tots bake sale so other kids can feel a little Christmas magic.”
He stuck his finger in the bowl. “Is this something you do every year? Deliver Christmas magic?”
“Yes, on the magic, but this is my first time participating in the bake sale. They were short on bakers, so I told Ester Rayborn I’d fill in for her.”
He leaned past her and went for a second dip of batter. “Ah, so a Secret Samaritan project then.”
“I am not Sweet’s Secret Samaritan. And stop that.” She batted his hand away. “I’m already low on batter because of the blackout. Plus, eating raw dough is dangerous.”
“I like a little danger.”
“Danger’s not my thing.” She’d spent an entire lifetime trying to avoid it.
“Maybe you’re trying it with the wrong people,” he teased.
This time she bumped his shoulder. “Are you flirting with me, Ranger Tucker?”
“No, ma’am,” he said seriously, that accent of his rolling down her spine and making her shiver. “Not that I don’t want to, but you don’t seem to like it.”
Her smile collapsed. Was she that out of practice? Or was he so intuitive he knew she hadn’t had a whole lot of experience with men? Oh, she’d dated guys here and there, but she’d never let any of them fully into her life. That wasn’t a risk she was willing to take.
But with him, it felt fun and easy. Safe even.
She looked at him with a new awareness. “Usually flirting makes me nervous, so most men think I’m cold. But with you, it’s different.”
“Different good or different bad?” He playfully crossed his fingers. “If you can’t tell, I’m rooting for different good?”
“I’m not sure yet,” she teased. “But I can tell you that I like it.” She put her thumb and finger together, peeking through the tiny crack at him. “A little bit.”
“Do you like me, Faith?”
She rolled her lips in. “Maybe a little?”
“I can work with that,” he said softly, stepping closer, wrapping his arms