If the weight of the object didn’t remind her of what she clutched, then the smell of recently fried eggs did. Neither encouraged her to dip the pan into suds and scrub away the remains of breakfast. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from the window. Oh no, she possessed little motivation for anything more than gawking. One of the cowboys who joined her for breakfast tilted his hat and smiled. The other hunk in boots waved after he slipped his thick arms into the coat she insisted he wear into the dead of winter. Absentmindedly, she wiggled her fingers in a hello gesture and then quickly turned around before either cowboy witnessed her pink cheeks. God help her. She was losing her mind. The young men, less than a hundred yards from the house, probably knew they were the sources behind her reason for staring outside with true interest. Since they shared her roof, too, the flirtations continued around the clock. Grabbing a dishcloth from the soapy water, she washed the shallow pan and tried to pretend she wasn’t interested in the cowboys she’d hired for the holidays.
What do You think about Christmas With The Stallions?
