“I’m just saying we’re stuck here until this series of storms passes, and I want you to be careful,” Cole said. “We should stick together when we go outside.”
“Cole, who else is on the ranch? You told me no one was here other than the three of us,” Maia said. “Is it possible you’re being . . .” She broke off when his gaze swept over her face. The dark hunger was gone. His eyes were back to ice-cold, piercing blue.
“Paranoid? Maybe. But it’s how I stay alive. I don’t know what’s happening, and until I do I just want to err on the side of caution.” He stood beside Jase, clapping a hand briefly on his shoulder. “That doesn’t mean we can’t have fun, or do the Christmas thing, it just means we stick closer together if we go outside. We can share the work and keep an eye on the doc when she’s looking at the horse for us.”
“I came down here to tell the doc that my mother’s things are in the attic,” Jase said. “There’s a chest up there that might have a few Christmas ornaments in it.”
Cole glanced at Maia’s face, trying to get something from her. He wasn’t certain what it was. Reassurance maybe. Courage. The thought of decorating the house turned his stomach.
“I’d love to see some of your mother’s things, Jase,” Maia said with her usual warmth. Her gaze was on Cole, watching his face closely, reading too much.
He presented a stone carving to the world, a man invincible, one who had no fear, yet she seemed to see through the barrier between him and the rest of the world. The one woman he wanted to impress. The only woman who got under his skin and threatened to turn his carefully ordered world upside down was the one who saw him vulnerable.
Maia sighed. “Jase, you ever notice Cole can look scary?”
“I told him he did,” Jase said, with a triumphant grin toward Cole. “Just last week I told him that.”
“He does it when he’s losing a battle.”
Cole raised an eyebrow. “I don’t lose battles. Don’t be telling the boy a thing like that.” A part of Cole stood off to the side, observing the banter, the way Maia seemed to be able to bring them all together when there was always such a distance between him and everyone else. A distance between Jase and everyone else. He wished he knew how she did it.
No one had ever teased him before. Even his coworkers refrained from venturing into personal territory with him, but Maia had no problem giving him a bad time. He reached out, tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear before he could stop himself. He wanted to touch her, to feel her skin. He ached for her. Cole pulled himself up short. He was beginning to want more than her body. He found himself looking for her smile, listening for her laughter, watching the expressions chase across her face.
Jase’s rude snort of derision dragged him from his thoughts. “You’ve got it bad, Cole. You’re a goner.”
Cole couldn’t take exception when he heard the laughter in the boy’s voice. It was genuine and even affectionate. Maia had managed to put it there somehow. He turned away from both of them, a lump in his throat. “I’m denying everything,” he managed to get out. His voice was husky, and he knew if he looked at her, Maia would have a small knowing smile on her face.
“What are we going to do with the doc?” Jase asked.
“She can just sit there holding the ice pack, and we’ll go up to the attic and get this box you want. I finished feeding the horses before I came in. Al’s got the cattle under shelter with plenty of feed, so we’re good for a few hours. We may as well start figuring out what we’re supposed to do about Christmas.”
Maia’s laughter came again. “You sound like a man about to be hung. Christmas is fun, Steele, not a funeral. Jase, the man has such an Eeyore attitude.”
Cole swung around. “Eeyore? You just called me Eeyore.”
Jase burst out laughing, joining Maia. The sound drifted through the ranch house, dispelling the cold, barren feeling and replacing it with a warmth that had never been there before.
chapter
8
COLE DUSTED OFF THE BOX before he brought it down to Maia. Jase had obviously managed to remove things he’d treasured and conceal them before his father could throw them out. It said a lot about the boy’s courage. He’d only been ten when his mother had been killed. He must have been terrified to defy his father and gather her things. The housekeeper would have reported it had she seen him, and there were the cameras to avoid, yet the boy had managed to keep a few precious items. As Cole placed the box carefully in front of Maia, he realized his genuine affection for the boy was growing. And that was frightening.
He couldn’t warn Maia how much the contents of the box meant to Jase because the teenager was right beside him, anxiously watching his every move. He could only hope she would notice as she seemed so aware of every little nuance involving the boy.