The Cowboy's Christmas Gift. DONNA ALWARD
middle-aged man delivering the food.
He winked at her before turning back to weave through the tables to the kitchen.
Carrie had barely eaten her first onion ring when Kailey lifted her head, gave her curls a toss and called out, “Hey, Quinn! Why don’t you and your friend come join us?”
Carrie kicked her under the table. She knew the toe of her boot had hit its mark when Kailey winced, then pasted on the same bright smile.
“I’m gonna get you for this,” Carrie said as Quinn and Duke left their group and approached the table.
“Kailey.” Quinn smiled down at her. “Planning on stirring up some sawdust on the dance floor tonight?”
“Maybe,” she answered easily. Kailey and Quinn knew each other well. The two ranches backed on to each other and Kailey and Carrie had each taken turns babysitting Quinn’s daughter, Amber, occasionally. He was a good-looking, hardworking man, but they’d known each other too long. They were colleagues hanging out, that was all.
Duggan, on the other hand, was familiar but very, very new. Looking at him resulted in a much different sensation than the one she got looking at Quinn. Something went all jumpy and swirly in her stomach, especially when he looked over at her with that same unsmiling expression. He’d removed his coat and hung it on one of the hooks along the back wall, and his blue-and-white striped shirt gave a clear indication of the breadth of his chest and flatness of his stomach. She wondered if he had a six-pack hiding under there.
“Help yourself,” she offered, reaching for a jalapeño popper simply to keep her hands occupied. She took too big a bite, though, and the heat blasted her taste buds. To compensate, she reached for her glass and took a long gulp.
“Slow down, tiger.” His voice came from close beside her, and she turned her head, a little too quickly it seemed. His eyes were too close, and while he still wasn’t smiling, his eyes twinkled at her. Damned if he didn’t make her feel about fifteen years old with that indulgent gleam in his eyes. Duke Duggan was a bit too big for his britches, in her mind.
“So you do remember how to speak to me,” she said a little sharply. “I thought you’d forgotten this week.”
The amused gaze faded a bit. “Forgotten?”
“It seemed every time I passed you and offered a hello, you were either focused on Quinn or simply ignored me.”
He reached for a chicken wing. “Feelings hurt, Carrie?”
She didn’t want to admit they had been. “Naw. I sort of expected city manners after all.” She wasn’t sure why she was antagonizing him. She really was glad he’d come home, and so was everyone at Crooked Valley. He was the answer to all the uncertainty they’d felt since Joe died. There was just something about him that set her on edge—in more ways than one.
One of the waitresses was passing by and Carrie inclined her chin. “Hey, Suze, a round on me, okay?”
Kailey was grinning widely now. “Just soda for me, Susan.”
“I’ll have a beer,” Quinn said.
“Sweet tea,” Duke ordered. “And the round’s on me.”
“Oh, I insist.” Carrie smiled brightly. “Another rum and cola for me, please.”
But Duke pulled out his wallet before Carrie could unzip her small purse. “I’m not in the habit of letting employees buy me drinks,” he said quietly. Quinn and Kailey didn’t hear, but Carrie did. The man sure did have a way of making a girl feel small.
“Employees,” she replied tartly. “I guess Quinn and I know where we stand.”
His brows pulled together. “That’s not what I meant.”
She shrugged. “Whatever.” She reached for her chicken wing and didn’t worry about being dainty as she ate it, wiping her saucy fingers on a paper napkin when she was done. Susan came back with their drinks and she let Duke pay. Why not, if he wanted to? She wasn’t about to start a spitting match with him over a three-dollar beverage.
And just for spite, she picked up her drink and took a long, refreshing chug.
“So, Duke,” Kailey said, dipping her onion ring in ketchup. “Are you really planning on staying on at the ranch?”
“I don’t know,” he replied, finally smiling. Carrie nearly dropped her second chicken wing. When he smiled, it was devastating. His whole face changed, his lips curved and his eyes crinkled at the corners while the rest of his facial muscles relaxed. When he wasn’t brooding, he was incredibly attractive. And of course that smile had only blossomed on his face when Kailey addressed him. Jerk.
“Are you always going to go by that silly nickname?” Carrie asked, rolling her eyes a bit.
He raised an eyebrow. “I’m used to it. It’s all I’ve been called since I was six years old.” He turned away from her and smiled at Kailey. “When someone calls me Dustin, it makes me feel like my mom’s calling me out for doing something wrong.”
Carrie wiped her fingers and took another sip of her drink simply to hide her face. Duke suited him. Suited him better than Dustin. Dustin brought to mind a tall, gangly boy with thick, unruly hair and freckles. The man beside her was muscled, hard, 100 percent male, still with the hint of freckles under his tanned skin but with a no-nonsense military cut taming his cap of hair. More than that, it was his bearing. Solid and steady and a little bit dangerous. The kind of man you didn’t want to cross, but the sort you felt completely safe with, too.
Well, mostly safe.
She looked up and caught him watching her and her heart did that weird thump thing again, feeling as if it was banging up against her rib cage while she grew hot all over.
Maybe Kailey was right. Maybe it had been too long since she’d dated because she was definitely overreacting.
“So how’d you get the nickname anyway?” Quinn asked, reaching for a jalapeño.
Duke grinned. “When I was six, we spent the summer here and my grandmother put all of us in summer Bible school at the church. One day some kid was picking on my little sister. I cleaned his clock and told him never to bother her again.”
Everyone laughed a little, but Carrie wrinkled her nose. “That still doesn’t explain the name.”
Duke met her gaze. “You know Joe. He loved his John Wayne movies, and I sat through lots of showings of Rio Bravo. When the kid apologized to Lacey, I swaggered up to him, doing my best impression of the Duke, and drawled, ‘Sorry don’t get it done, dude.’ I’ve been called Duke ever since.”
Quinn and Kailey burst out laughing and even Carrie’s lips tilted a little at the cute story. Duke’s icy eyes warmed a little as they fell upon her and his face relaxed. He wasn’t the prettiest man she’d ever seen, but there was something about him that was charismatic. Sexy. Maybe it was his general aloofness blended with moments of charm. Whatever it was, Carrie wasn’t immune. Not even close.
A two-step that was popular on the radio these days came on the speakers and Carrie’s toe tapped along with the opening bars. “Hey, Quinn,” Kailey said loudly, to be heard over the music. “You wanna take a turn on the floor?”
Quinn smiled. “Why not?”
Carrie watched as Quinn and Kailey headed out to the sawdust-covered floor and started circling the perimeter with the other dancers. Kailey was laughing and Quinn was smiling. Carrie had once asked Kailey about why she didn’t date Quinn—they got along great. Kailey confessed that once, before Quinn met his wife, they’d gone out on a couple of dates and that kissing him was like kissing a brother. There just wasn’t any chemistry. Now that Quinn was a widower, they’d just stayed friends.
Carrie turned back to the table and her stomach flipped again. Duke was watching her, his gray-green eyes studying her as if he could see clear