9
Chapter Nine
They were holding hands. A silent link that looped them together during the ride to his ranch while his parents chattered away in the front seat. Kenzie gave the right answers on cue, but her mind stayed in the backseat. Focused on Tucker.
Every time he stroked the fleshy part above her thumb, she got goosebumps like she was a teenager. Yes, Kenzie had butterflies in her stomach. A whole swirling mass of them.
“Kenzie, do you have any special requests for Christmas breakfast tomorrow?” Lori’s neck was going to have a kink in it from the amount of time she spent turned around. Though, she didn’t seem to mind.
They turned off the highway onto a two-lane winding road leading them through a canyon onto what Tucker called the Grand Mesa. A massive flat-topped mountain with his town of Collbran somewhere near the top.
The snow had stopped, leaving a film of white powder on the trees, the road, the outside of the truck.
“Anything will be great,” Kenzie replied. “I can help, too.”
She loved to bake but rarely got the chance.
“Everybody brings something. We do it potluck style,” Lori said.
Kenzie hadn’t been to an event where they did “potluck style” since she was five. How fun was this?
“What were you planning to bring?” Kenzie asked Tucker, her enthusiasm lacing her words.
The little crinkles around his eyes bunched. “Whatever’s in the pantry.”
Clint harrumphed.
He had the act of being the gruff patriarch down to an art, but his eyes told a whole different story. They were among the kindest eyes Kenzie had ever seen. Honest eyes. The kind of eyes that told a story. Clint would’ve made an excellent actor. Ninety percent of getting an audience to believe the story was having eyes that sparkled with truth—even when you played a role. “Last year he brought a jar of mayonnaise.”
“And we used that mayonnaise on sandwiches at lunch.” Lori flashed Tucker an it’s-okay-sweetie smile.
Kenzie glanced to Tucker’s profile. “Did your brother leave flour, butter, all that?”
“If not, come by early tomorrow. I have it all,” Lori assured.
Baking with Tucker’s family sounded…really nice. Fun, even.
“That would be great.” Kenzie settled back into her seat, content.
“What are you planning on making?” Tucker squeezed her hand.
She shrugged. “Whatever I can find a recipe for.”
The two-lane road led through the canyon, a frozen creek along one side. Tucker leaned over her and pointed out the window. “Keep your eye out for deer.”
Kenzie squinted in the direction he’d pointed. “Like, wild deer?”
Tucker’s lips played into a smile. “You’ll see them along the edge of the road sometimes. There was one just there. Watch. There are usually several grouped together.”
“They’ll bounce right in front of the truck. They’re pretty, but they’re stupid,” Clint went on. “Not like mountain lions. Those are smart. Fast. They’ll pounce on you before you have a moment to process what’s happening.”
“Wait, there are mountain lions?” Kenzie shot Tucker a look.
The jerk was laughing. “Yeah. There are some around here.”
“Like, there are mountain lions at your ranch?” Kenzie asked. Just to confirm.
She glanced outside again, leaning close against the window. Her breath fogged the glass.
