We fell into a more comfortable silence as the Amarillo skyline grew closer. I found myself sneaking glances at Diego when I thought he wasn’t looking. The way his large hands rested on histhighs, the profile of his jaw, the slight curl of his hair at the nape of his neck. And the way his jeans were always bulged at the crotch.
God, I was in trouble.
“Take this exit,” I said, grateful for the distraction as we approached the city limits. “The boot store is downtown.”
Diego nodded, reaching to turn up the radio. Some country Christmas song was playing, something about ex-wives and Santa and whiskey.
“You like Christmas?” he asked suddenly.
The question caught me off guard. “I guess. I mean, I used to.”
“Used to?”
I shrugged, navigating through the increasing traffic. “It’s just different when you’re older. Less magical.”
“I don’t know about that,” Diego said, his voice thoughtful. “I think it can still be pretty special.”
“Let me guess, you’re one of those people who goes all out for the holidays,” I said, trying to keep my tone light. “Big tree, hundreds of lights, matching ornaments?”
“Actually, I’ve never really had a proper Christmas,” he said quietly, and something in his voice made me look over at him. The usual cocky confidence had slipped from his expression. “Foster homes don’t exactly go all out for the holidays. And when you’re bouncing from ranch to ranch...” He shrugged, but I caught the flash of vulnerability before he covered it with a grin. “But hey, maybe this year’ll be different.”
My chest tightened unexpectedly. I’d been so wrapped up in my own sob story that I hadn’t considered Diego might have his own baggage. “Oh. I’m sorry, I didn’t?—”
“Don’t,” he said, waving me off. “No pity parties in this truck, remember? Besides, I’m looking forward to seeing what all the fuss is about. Beau and Lucas are going full Christmas movie with their decorations this year for the guests. They donated a lot of money to the town to decorate as well.”
I couldn’t help but smile at that. “Yeah, I noticed. Dolly’s diner looks like Santa threw up in it.”
“In the best way possible,” Diego laughed. “That woman has more Christmas spirit than should be legally allowed.”
“Turn left here,” I said, spotting the western wear store Lucas had mentioned. The parking lot was already busy despite it being mid-morning on a weekday. “Looks like we’re not the only ones with Christmas shopping on the brain.”
“Good thing you’re here to keep me from buying Beau a belt buckle the size of a hubcap,” Diego said, unbuckling his seatbelt as I parked.
“That’s exactly what I’m here for,” I replied, trying to ignore the way my pulse quickened when he stretched beside me. “To save you from your own questionable taste.”
“My taste isn’t questionable,” Diego protested, climbing out of the truck. “It’s bold.”
“That’s one word for it,” I muttered, following him toward the store entrance.
The blast of warm air that hit us as we walked inside was a relief from the December chill. The store was bigger than I’d expected, with rows upon rows of boots, hats, and western wear. Christmas music played softly overhead, and garland was draped along the displays.
“Damn,” Diego whistled low. “This place has everything.”
“Focus,” I said, pulling out my phone to check Lucas’s notes. “We need dress boots, not cowboy boots. Something Beau can wear to dinner or... I don’t know, whatever fancy things they do.”
“Right.” Diego was already wandering toward a display of elaborately tooled leather boots. “What size is he?”
“Eleven and a half wide,” I said, consulting my notes again. “And Lucas specifically said no exotic leathers. Apparently Beau has opinions about that.”
“Good man,” Diego nodded approvingly.
“I think the boots are over this way,” I said, pointing to the other side of the store as I glanced back at Diego.
And that’s why I didn’t see the open shoebox sitting on the floor in front of my feet. On the first step I collided with it, tripped, and headed for the linoleum floor at breakneck speed with hardly a squeak.
But I never hit the ground. A strong arm caught me around the waist, yanking me back against a solid chest.
“Whoa there, Freckles,” Diego’s voice rumbled against my back, his breath warm against my ear. “You okay?”
