Page 2 of A Mustang River Christmas

She took a step back, and ran into something hard, solid, and human.

Her stomach plummeted, and she caught the scent of a spicy cologne, along with the scent of hay and skin before she turned.

She should have known.

Because there was only one man, one person, that she was that attuned to on the ranch.

“Pike. You scared me to death.”

“Sorry about that.”

Pike and all his charm had been busy working her up into a fantasy frenzy for the last few months. She was physically so, so into him. He was gorgeous. Dark brown hair with gray at the temples, smile lines that made her knees go weak. And he was competent. She had watched him do work on the ranch, and he was just good at everything. People didn’t take him seriously because of his demeanor, but she knew real, bone-deep competence when she saw it. She also knew a leader.

She worked in professional kitchens, had spent the last twenty years of her life doing that. They were fierce, male-dominated environments, and it was where her own ferocity had bloomed and grown.

She could tell when somebody had head chef energy.

Pike had that kind of energy. It made it feel strange that he was here, on the ranch, working for other people, taking a back seat in the proceedings, and seeming happy to do so.

But, people contained multitudes.

Still, it was that leader in him that caused her stomach to tighten up whenever he was around. Feeling uncomfortable, or like someone had power over her had always made her mouthy. And Pike was no exception to that general rule. When he was around, she just said things.

“You ever going to give me that one-night stand?” she asked.

Might as well shoot her shot. He wouldn’t take it seriously, of course.

But she was serious.

She hadn’t had sex in months. The dissolution of her previous relationship still stung like it was fresh and she hadn’t even found anyone to blow off some steam with yet.

Being a chef was a high-stress job and back in the Bay Area it had put her in the path of other people with high-stress jobs who had the same ethos she did. Work hard, play hard. Get some whenever possible.

But then she’d gotten into a long-term relationship, and that had twisted her up and bent her in so many ways she just wanted to feel like the Laney she’d been before all that.

Like Laney in her twenties who would have gotten a new tattoo and a new partner in less than twenty-four hours. Pike made her feel like that.

Like she wanted to be wild and lose her head for just a little bit.

He lifted his brows. Flirting with Pike aggressively was sort of how she interacted with him. And the best part was he didn’t really think she was serious. So she couldn’t embarrass herself. Except, she was absolutely serious, and if he took her up on it...

“Sorry, I have to work tomorrow. But I did come to ask a favor of you.”

That almost hurt. Pike was as dedicated to ignoring her advances as she was to making them. She had a feeling he thought she was doing a bit. She kind of was. But also if he said yes she’d do it in a heartbeat.

“A favor?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Not a sexual favor, though.”

“I’m afraid not.” He smiled, and she was almost sure that there was something like regret in his gray eyes. It made her stomach twist. “What the hell are you doing?”

She turned around and looked at the mess of gingerbread. “Oh. I’m making a gingerbread house for the jubilee.”

“It looks to me like you’re making a gingerbread mess.”

“I’m sorry, are you an expert?”