A Cowboy for Christmas by Lori Wilde Read Free Book Online

scanned the room, the tight, masculine lines of his mouth at once both comforting and unnerving. A mouth that seemed to say, I’m a man you can count on. Trust me .
    Lissette blinked, seeing the room through a stranger’s eyes. The kitchen housed commercial-grade appliances, two large convection ovens, a state-of-the-art refrigerator, and dishwasher. Stainless steel glistened and everything smelled of organic cleaning products. Three wooden bar stools were tucked up to the backside of the marble-slab cooking island.
    Her parents had paid for her kitchen renovations as a lavish Christmas present the previous year when Texas laws had changed to allow cottage-industry bakers to operate from their homes as long as certain conditions were met. Before the law passed, Lissette had been forced to lease space from a commercial bakery in the nearby town of Twilight, to make the wedding cakes she sold through Mariah’s wedding planning business. The renovations were another reason she was reluctant to ask her parents for money. They were still paying off the loan for the project.
    â€œHave a seat,” she invited.
    Rafferty pulled out a bar stool. The wooden legs scraped against the terrazzo floor. He settled his cowboy hat on the seat of a second stool.
    Lissette turned to grind coffee beans. Soon the rich smell of freshly crushed French roast filled the room and the only sound between them was the gurgle of the coffeemaker.
    Rafferty perched awkwardly on the stool, as if he were just waiting for an excuse to fly away. He tilted his head, studied her hands.
    Feeling self-conscious, she tucked her arms behind her back. “So,” she began, searching for something to say. “You’re Jake’s half brother. I never knew about you.”
    He nodded as if that did not surprise him. Strong, silent type. The cowboy type. Someone she should stay away from.
    â€œBut you knew about me?” she asked.
    â€œNot much,” he admitted. “Just your name. Jake sent me your wedding announcement.”
    â€œBut not an invitation?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œDon’t you find that strange?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œWhy not?”
    He shrugged. “I’m the skeleton in the closet.”
    â€œYou’re younger than Jake.”
    â€œBy four years.”
    â€œThat makes you twenty-nine.”
    Another nod.
    â€œMe too,” she said for no reason. “I’ll be thirty in January.”
    â€œYou look much younger.” He spread his palms out on the island, the backs of his tanned hands startling against the white marble. His nails were clean and clipped short but his knuckles were crisscrossed with small nicks and scars.
    Her face heated at his straightforward comment. “It’s not just Jake. No one around here has ever talked about you. That fact in and of itself is quite odd in a small town where even the brand of laundry soap that people use is up for public discussion.”
    Slowly, he drummed his fingers against the marble, producing the simple duple meter of a funeral march. The beat sent a shiver over her. He shrugged again, circumspect. Nothing at all like Jake.
    She felt like a cotton shirt twisted dry by the old-fashioned wringer that decorated her mother-in-law’s screened sun porch in retro country chic. Knotted up. Tense. “When did you learn who your real father was?”
    â€œI always knew. My mother didn’t hide the fact that my father was married with a family in Texas and he wanted nothing to do with us.” He kept up the drumming. “Who knows? Maybe that’s why I became a cowboy. To impress him.”
    Lissette tried to imagine what that was like. Knowing that your father wanted nothing to do with you. A rush of sympathy washed over her for the little kid that he’d been, growing up without a dad. It killed her soul to realize that her son would never know his father either. It wasn’t fair. For Rafferty or