Hunter stepped forward. “One night. No history. No interruptions. Just me and you.”
“A date?” Her question was a whisper.
His hand reached up, gently grasping one of her curls. Something about the way he caressed her hair made her ache for his touch. “What do you say, Jo?” His eyes met hers. Blazing, electric, the pull almost physical. He released the curl, placing his big hands on either side of her head.
She blew out a shaky breath, unable to hide the effect he was having on her. His mouth was so close, his breath caressing her skin. His gaze explored her face, slow and intense. She tilted her head to him, an unmistakable invitation. Her heart kicked into overdrive as he leaned forward. She closed her eyes, waiting, ready, willing, bursting.
His forehead rested against hers.
“I’m not going to kiss you until you say yes,” he rasped.
Her eyes popped open. “Yes,” she answered quickly, too quickly. Not that there was any point in denying what was happening. They both felt it, they both wanted it.
He smiled and stepped away from her. “I’ll pick you up at seven o’clock.”
A Cowboy’s
Christmas
Reunion
Sasha Summers
SASHA SUMMERS is part gypsy. Her passions have always been storytelling, romance and travel. Whether it’s an easy-on-the-eyes cowboy or a hero of mythic proportions, Sasha falls a little in love with each and every one of her heroes. She frequently gets lost with her characters in the world she creates, forgetting those everyday tasks like laundry and dishes. Luckily, her four brilliant children and her hero-inspiring hubby are super understanding and helpful.
To the women who cheer me on and keep me writing: Allison Collins, Joni Hahn, Jolene Navarro, Storm Navarro and Marilyn Tucker.
Pamela Hopkins, thank you for being the best agent a gal could wish for. Your belief in me means the world.
To my generous and funny editor, Johanna Raisanen. I’m so very proud to be a Mills & Boon author. Thank you for making this experience a dream come true!
And to my amazing family—you make every day special.
Contents
She’d know that butt anywhere. Hunter Boone.
Damn it.
In eleven years, his derriere hadn’t changed much. Lean hips and a tight butt hugged by work-faded Wrangler blue jeans. And, apparently, the view still managed to take her breath away. Which was unfortunate because she’d come home believing he couldn’t affect her anymore—not even a little bit. She had been 110 percent confident that Hunter was out of her system. She was so wrong.
Her hands tightened on the tray she held and her lungs emptied as a memory of the way that rear felt under her hands...
She sighed, completely trapped.
This was not the reaction she’d expected after so long. Or the way she wanted to see him again. It...it pissed her off.
This isn’t fair.
“Need some help with that, Josie?” Her father’s voice made her wince.
She was hiding, clutching a tray of her dad’s famous German breakfast kolaches and Danish, and crouching behind the display counter. Why was she—a rational, professional woman—ducking behind a bakery counter? Because he’d walked in and thrown her confidence in her face—a face whose forehead was currently streaked with flour and sugar and who knew what else.
There was no doubt her father’s amused question had made all eyes in Pop’s Bakery turn toward her. All eyes, even the very dazzling blue-green ones she was trying so desperately to avoid. There wasn’t much to do about it now.
She shot her father a look as she said, “Nope, thanks, Dad. I’ve got it.”
Her father winked, looking downright giddy. He’d known exactly what he was doing, and, knowing him, he could hardly wait to see what happened next.
Taking a deep breath, she stood slowly and slid the tray of breakfast goods into the display cabinet with intentional care. She refused to look at anything except the pastries. Or the stuffed deer head over the front door. That always made her smile—not