Christmas In Mustang Creek. Maisey Yates
He could do that.
That and a whole lot more, if Charlotte gave him half a chance.
What he had to do now was relax, trust, let things unfold.
Easier said than done. After all, he’d made a huge emotional investment, moving to Mustang Creek, pretty much staking the rest of his life on a relationship that might be one-sided.
Still, he thought, watching Mutley trot through the snow at the end of his leash, it hadn’t seemed one-sided last night. He was hardly a player, but he knew when a woman was thinking about sex, especially when that woman was Charlie. She’d been...well, thinking.
There was a chance, a good one. If he’d believed there wasn’t, he wouldn’t be here, walking Charlotte’s aunt’s dog through mountains of snow. Wouldn’t be looking forward to starting the new job, finding a place to live, any of that.
There he went, analyzing again.
Time to shake it off. “So what do you think, Mut? Am I wrong? Stupid? A stalker?”
The dog didn’t even look at him, just pitched his ears forward, sniffed the sidewalk and wagged his tail.
No help there.
He was on a conversational roll, though, so he went right on talking. “Let me ask you something else. What should I get her as a gift? Charlotte, I mean.”
Mutley turned, spotted a dog across the street and tried to make a break for it, barking excitedly.
Jax had to laugh. The other dog looked like a beagle mix to him.
A sign?
Okay, part of his shopping list was done.
Charlotte was getting a puppy for Christmas.
THE FIRST THING Charlotte saw when she got back to the house was Jax’s truck parked at the curb.
Now, that was interesting.
Charlotte pulled into the driveway and marched up the steps. She’d forgotten her phone, unheard of for a businesswoman, especially one who worked in advertising. Or used to. She acknowledged grudgingly that if he’d called, she wouldn’t have been able to answer. Usually that phone was her constant companion; she’d carried it everywhere for the past seven years.
Strange how she’d left the thing behind and never missed it. At least, not until she’d decided to call and ask Millicent if she needed anything from the store.
There was a certain freedom in her new circumstances and she knew that, but she mustn’t lose perspective. She’d just arrived, and there was a lot of important stuff on her personal agenda.
Now was probably not the best time to embark on a relationship with an all-too-attractive veterinarian. She needed to get the house in order; she needed to get her life in order, look after her aunt and Mutley and Can-Can, too.
She got out of her rental car—which needed to be returned and replaced with a vehicle of her own. As she did, she heard that familiar woof and turned around to look. What was Millicent thinking, going out with the dog when the sidewalks were still icy in some places and totally impassible in others? She could break a hip, for heaven’s sake!
Only it wasn’t Mrs. Klozz.
No, it was Jax, coming her way.
Mutley was with him, straining at his leash, wagging his tail in welcome, eyes luminous with joy at the sight of Charlotte, as if she’d been gone for years, not an hour and a half. Jax’s boots crunched the snow, and the hint of a smile curved his lips. He drawled in what he must imagine was a cowboy accent, “Howdy, Miz Morgan. Shore is a fine day, ain’t it?”
It was, actually, now that the blizzard had passed, replaced by a gentle snowfall.
The mountains were gorgeous in their glistening blanket of white against the softened sky—a sky that would be the same piercing shade of blue as Jax’s eyes, once the clouds parted.
She wished she hadn’t thought of that but, when it came to Dr. Locke, her mind, normally so well organized and reasonable, tended to run wild.
“Um, yes, it is.” She frowned. Why was he here? “Did I leave something at the hotel?”
“No.” He leaned down and caught the dog by the collar just in time to keep Mutley from flinging himself at Charlotte in his exuberance and covering her in slushy paw prints. When he straightened, Jax asked seriously, “How was your aunt?”
“Fine.” Charlotte eyed him suspiciously. “It’s nice of you to walk Mutley, but what are you doing here?”
“Can we discuss this inside?” he asked. “The storm of the century might be over, but it’s still pretty chilly out here.”
The expression on Jax’s handsome face was a touch too innocent, Charlotte felt as she opened the door moments later, but he had a point. As festive as that feathery snowfall was, the temperature was probably in the single digits.
Besides, he’d been a total gentleman the night before, hadn’t he? And now he’d taken Mutley for a much-needed walk. It wasn’t his fault, after all, that she was overly susceptible to his smile.
The least she could do was be courteous.
As they stepped inside, into the warmth and the enticing aromas of whatever was baking in the oven or cooling on the kitchen counter, or both, Charlotte’s thoughts jumped the curb again.
What would’ve happened if he’d had a condom?
Nothing, she told herself firmly.
Liar. You were tempted. You would’ve given in and you know it.
Mrs. Klozz was belting out a rendition of “Jingle Bells” from the kitchen, and the cheery sound was comforting. Charlotte couldn’t imagine walking into the house and finding it empty and quiet, like her former apartment back in the city.
Jax bent and unhooked Mutley’s collar and then hung the leash in exactly the right spot before unzipping his jacket. “Can I take your coat?”
Considering it was her house, Charlotte reflected, she should probably be the one offering to take his coat, but he’d already hung it on the antique coat tree. He seemed awfully...well, at home.
Not surprising, really. It was almost Christmas, and there was magic in the air. The house was cozy, despite its size; it seemed to enfold visitors, make them feel welcome.
Naturally, Jax was comfortable here. Everyone was.
He collected her coat as she unwound her knitted scarf, and he automatically took that from her, draping it over the hook that held her coat. “Thanks,” she said, a little awkwardly. “Can I get you something to drink before you explain why you’re here?”
There. She could be polite, too, and still get her point across.
He smiled, very much at ease. “Mrs. Klozz was making a fresh pot of coffee before Mutley and I took our walk. Let’s go sit in the kitchen. That’s the most beautiful trestle-style table I’ve ever seen, by the way.”
Charlotte blinked. Was she having an out-of-body experience or something?
Mutley might be deaf when it suited him, but he heard the word kitchen and trotted off in that direction to check on his bowl. Jax looked at her expectantly. She muttered, “I agree about the table.” She raised one eyebrow. “How long have you been here?”
“Long enough for the grand tour. This is a great old house. Please tell me it always smells this good in here.”
That seemed an odd thing to say. The smell was fabulous, yes, but Jax was merely passing through. Why should he care about always? “I... Well... She likes to bake, apparently.”
He